Then looked at the new ledger.
“What are you writing?”
She exhaled.
“Dates.”
“Offers.”
“Tax notices.”
“Land classifications.”
“People involved.”
He smiled.
“What?”
“You're angry.”
“Yes.”
“You get organized when angry.”
“I could throw things.”
“I prefer paper.”
“So should dishonest men.”
They rode to Dry Creek the next day.
The county office smelled of coal, wet wool, and old paper.
Clara asked for Ruth Palmer’s assessment file.
The clerk looked at Ethan.
“Your wife?”
“Not yet.”
Clara said at the same time:
“Eventually.”
The clerk blinked.
Ethan smiled.
Clara ignored him.
“Assessment.”
The clerk hesitated.
“Property owner must request.”
Ruth had signed authorization.
Clara produced it.
The clerk looked disappointed.
Good.
The file showed reclassification three weeks earlier.
Commercial water access.
Clara asked for hearing records.
None.
Notice records.
None.
Board minutes.
Incomplete.
Three other creek properties had been reclassified the same month.
Two had already sold.
Buyer:
A holding company.
Clara asked who owned it.
The clerk did not know.
Ethan did.
“Vane.”
Clara looked toward him.
“You sure?”
“His lawyer formed it.”
The clerk became uncomfortable.
Clara noticed.
“Do you know something else?”
“No.”
“Then why did your face change?”
“My face didn't.”
Ethan almost laughed.
Clara leaned closer.
“I worked payroll for six years.”
“I can tell when somebody wishes paper would disappear.”
The clerk’s jaw tightened.
“Ma’am—”
The office door opened.
A well-dressed man entered.
Forties.
Expensive boots.
Silver watch chain.
Mr. Vane.
He saw Ethan.
Then Clara.
His eyes lingered.
Not in attraction.
Assessment.
She knew the look.
He smiled.
“So this is the Eastern bride.”
Clara remained seated.
“So this is the cattle buyer.”
His smile sharpened.
“Mr. Cole told you about me.”
“He told me enough.”
“Apparently.”
He looked toward the files.
“County business?”
“Public records.”
Vane laughed.
“You haven't been here long.”
“No.”
“Then a word of advice.”
Clara closed the file.
“I’m listening.”
“Dry Creek is easier when people understand how things work before deciding they should change them.”
Clara smiled.
“That sounds less like advice and more like an advertisement for bad habits.”
The clerk stared at the desk.
Ethan’s mouth moved slightly.
Vane looked at Clara again.
“You’re clever.”
“I balance columns.”
“Same thing occasionally.”
He turned toward Ethan.
“My offer remains open.”
“No.”
“You didn’t even ask whether it increased.”
“Did it?”
“Twelve hundred.”
Ethan hesitated.
Only a fraction.
Vane saw.
So did Clara.
Interesting.
Vane continued.
“Cash.”
“Enough to improve the ranch.”
“Maybe build a larger house.”
His gaze moved toward Clara.
There.
The implication.
Bigger woman.
Bigger house.
Money solves inconvenience.
Clara’s face remained calm.
Ethan’s did not.
She touched his sleeve.
Not yet.
Then looked toward Vane.