“I've worked with you these past days because I care about what happens here. And because I've begun to care about you.”
Her voice broke.
“But I should have told you about my father's papers sooner.”
Nathaniel looked down.
For several seconds, he remained quiet.
Then he approached the table.
He stopped beside her chair.
“Clara.”
She raised her eyes.
He took a breath.
“I don't like surprises involving Hawthorne.”
“I understand.”
“And I don't like feeling as though somebody knows more about my own ranch than I do.”
She nodded.
“I understand that too.”
He studied her.
Then sighed.
“But I told you I wanted a partner.”
Her eyes filled.
He continued.
“Partners make mistakes. They also tell the truth before those mistakes get worse.”
Clara swallowed.
Nathaniel looked toward the documents.
“From now on, if it's about this ranch, I want us both to know.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
He studied her.
Then offered his hand.
“Agreed?”
Clara looked at it.
For a moment, tears blurred her vision.
Then she placed her hand in his.
“Agreed.”
He smiled faintly.
And something in her chest loosened.
Not because everything was forgiven in an instant.
Because he had given her the opportunity to earn his trust through honesty rather than demand it through affection.
They spent the remainder of the morning reviewing the records.
By afternoon, they'd identified three separate references to the missing instrument.
The oldest described a shared irrigation agreement.
Another referred to the right of the Carter property to receive water from the upper stream crossing.
A third mentioned a maintenance easement near the abandoned mill.
Clara placed the pages side by side.
Then looked toward Nathaniel.
“Your father didn't purchase water rights from nothing.”
He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
She pointed toward the documents.
“He acquired land already subject to an older agreement. Whatever that agreement provided, later owners may have inherited its benefits and obligations.”
Nathaniel considered.
“And Hawthorne?”
Clara looked toward the window.
“If the agreement restricts upstream diversion, he may know that buying your ranch would be easier than fighting the rights attached to it.”
For a moment, Nathaniel remained silent.
Then he whispered.
“That explains why he never gives up.”
Clara nodded.
“Possibly.”
She didn't claim certainty.
Not yet.
They needed the missing document.
And they needed someone familiar with the territorial records.
So three days later, they traveled to Red Hollow.
The town was larger than Clara expected.