Hannah looked at him.
“You remember the collapse?”
“No.”
“That seems important.”
Frank nodded.
“Because everyone said collapse.”
“What did you see?”
Frank rubbed his jaw.
“One night, trucks.”
“Where?”
“Your pond.”
Hannah stared.
“How many?”
“Three. Maybe four.”
“Company?”
“Didn’t know.”
“Equipment?”
“Backhoe.”
Wade swore.
Frank continued.
“My father told me stay away.”
“Why?”
“Said engineers were stabilizing the bank.”
Hannah looked toward the spring gate.
“Did you hear an explosion?”
“No.”
“Ground collapse?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
Frank shook his head.
“They worked all night.”
Louise joined them.
“What was the pond like the next morning?”
Frank thought.
“Lower.”
“How fast?”
“Week maybe.”
“Did it dry?”
“Eventually.”
Louise stared toward the mechanism.
“A collapsed spring wouldn’t need a gate.”
Hannah felt cold.
“They sealed it.”
Nobody argued.
Clayton Vale arrived Friday.
Not called.
He drove a new black truck.
Clean enough to reflect clouds.
Hannah was repairing temporary fencing near the pond.
He walked toward her wearing pressed jeans and a pale blue shirt.
“You look busy.”
“I am.”
He surveyed the water.
“Impressive.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk.”
“We’re talking.”
Clayton smiled.
“Privately.”
Wade and Frank were working fifty yards away.
Hannah looked toward them.
“They’re fine.”
Clayton’s smile faded.
He lowered his voice.
“You found records.”
Hannah’s expression did not change.
“What makes you think that?”
“Because Wade Mercer visited the courthouse attorney yesterday.”
Hannah almost laughed.
“You have excellent gossip.”
“This affects multiple properties.”
“It does.”
“And potentially mine.”
There.
Hannah looked at him.
“Which property?”
Clayton paused.
Then smiled.
“Several upstream mineral rights.”
“Groundwater.”
“Possibly.”
“Bought recently?”
“Over time.”
Hannah understood.
He had known something.
Maybe not the gate.
Maybe not the exact location.
But enough.
“You’ve been buying farms above this aquifer.”
Clayton said nothing.
“And offering drought prices below.”
“Hannah—”
“How long have you known?”
“Known what?”
“That the spring wasn’t dead.”
His eyes changed.
Only slightly.
Enough.
Hannah stepped closer.
“You knew.”
“I knew historical reports were incomplete.”
“That’s a careful sentence.”
“I’m a careful person.”
“My grandfather wasn’t.”
Clayton frowned.
“What?”