May’s chest tightened.
Vernon stepped closer.
“Experimental?”
Henry nodded slowly.
“Factory demonstrator or pre-production test unit.”
Someone whistled.
Another farmer stood from the bench.
Calvin’s face remained controlled.
Barely.
Vernon said:
“That’s ridiculous. Look at it.”
Henry glanced at him.
“You think rare machines stay rare by looking pretty?”
Several men laughed.
Not at May this time.
Henry pointed toward the rear casting.
“Different mounting pattern.”
Then the front axle.
“Reinforced steering bracket.”
Then the hood.
“Vent spacing isn’t standard.”
May looked.
She had noticed some of those details.
Not all.
Henry’s voice became quieter.
“If this number is original, this tractor may have been built before the production configuration was finalized.”
Vernon stared toward Calvin.
Calvin said nothing.
May unfolded Samuel’s sheet.
“My father had this number.”
Calvin’s head snapped toward her.
May saw it.
There.
Fear.
She opened the paper fully.
Samuel’s handwriting occupied the bottom half.
XFD-17-004 — Cutler farm? Confirm frame plate. Never let Rusk buy without checking original title.
The entire barn shifted.
Calvin stepped toward May.
“Let me see that.”
She pulled it back.
“No.”
“Your father and I discussed machinery all the time.”
“Why did he write your name?”
Calvin’s jaw tightened.
“Because he was paranoid near the end.”
The sentence struck May like a slap.
She stood.
“My father died from pneumonia.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
Vernon held out one hand.
“All right. Enough drama. The auction can pause while we verify—”
“No.”
May looked at him.
“I’m the high bidder.”
“This lot may have been miscataloged.”
“That is not my problem.”
“It is if ownership is disputed.”
“You were happy to sell it as scrap thirty seconds ago.”
People murmured agreement.
Vernon’s face reddened.
Calvin stepped toward the tractor.
“We need to inspect the machine privately.”
Henry laughed.
“Why privately?”
“Because you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Calvin.”
Henry looked at him over his glasses.
“I watched you restore two experimental Waterloo units in 2009. Don’t insult me.”
That produced a reaction from the crowd.
Calvin’s composure cracked.
“Those were documented machines.”
“And this one might be too.”
May knelt again.
Something had bothered her since morning.
The plate was not the only metal she had seen.
Behind it, partly obscured by grime, another edge protruded from the frame.
She reached.
Vernon said:
“Don’t touch anything else.”
May ignored him.
She scraped grease away with the corner of Samuel’s paper sleeve.
A small brass tag appeared.
Two screws.
Old.