"Then I will proceed with access restrictions."
She looked toward her daughter.
"You do that, and we'll address it through the proper channels."
"That sounds like a threat."
"No."
She glanced at the old ledger.
"That's a promise to use the law instead of your temper."
She ended the call.
For the first time, she did not feel as though the banker controlled the conversation.
Chapter 7: The Barricade
The barricade arrived on Friday morning.
Not at dawn.
Not quietly in the darkness.
At nine forty, in broad daylight, a flatbed truck turned off the county highway carrying portable steel barriers and heavy concrete blocks.
The ranch foreman saw it first.
He was checking a water trough near the north pasture when the truck pulled up beside the cattle guard.
He immediately called the ranch house.
The old woman answered.
"What is it?"
"They brought barricades."
She stood so quickly her chair scraped the floor.
"Where?"
"At the county-road entrance."
"Don't touch anything."
"I wasn't planning to."
"I'm coming."
She hung up.
Her daughter, who had been preparing breakfast, saw her expression.
"What happened?"
"The banker made his move."
They drove together.
The granddaughter remained at the farmhouse with the foreman's wife and strict instructions not to approach the dispute.
By the time the women reached the entrance, the flatbed driver had unloaded two portable barriers.
The bank manager stood beside his black SUV.
A contractor wearing a hard hat was studying the road.
Two workers waited beside the concrete blocks.
The old woman parked her pickup across the open lane, leaving enough room for emergency vehicles.
She climbed out.
The bank manager turned.
"You're late."
She looked at the barriers.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Enforcing the bank's property rights."
"You have a court order?"
He frowned.
"We're the property owner."
"That wasn't my question."
He looked toward the contractor.
"Proceed with the installation."
The old woman stepped into the road.
"No."
The contractor stopped.
The bank manager's face tightened.
"Move."
"Not until somebody explains the legal authority to close this access."
"I've explained it repeatedly."
"You've waved a penalty notice and threatened me. That's not the same thing."
Her daughter stood beside her.
"We've consulted an attorney. There is a recorded easement. You've been notified of that claim."
The banker looked irritated by the additional witness.
"Who are you?"
"Her daughter."
"This is a business matter."
"It concerns the only usable road to my mother's home."