A small cluster of fingerlings moved near the submerged vegetation.
Then disappeared.
She smiled through tears.
Behind her, the land buyer cleared his throat.
"Well, this is impressive."
The woman turned.
His expression had changed.
The mockery was gone.
In its place was a strained smile that looked almost painful.
He glanced toward the driver.
"I suppose somebody made a rather large investment."
The older man nodded.
"Yes."
The buyer looked back at the woman.
"But you'll still have to feed them."
She remained quiet.
"Maintain the water."
No answer.
"Pay for electricity. Repairs. Insurance."
The woman folded her arms.
"I know."
He smiled.
"Fish aren't free money."
The driver looked toward him.
"Nobody said they were."
The businessman seemed irritated.
He looked toward the woman.
"My offer is still available."
She stared.
After everything he'd said.
After throwing her father's papers into the mud.
After mocking the work that had brought three hatchery trucks to the farm.
He still believed she might sell.
The woman took a slow breath.
"No."
His jaw tightened.
"You haven't even seen the revised proposal."
"I don't need to."
The buyer stepped closer.
"You're making a mistake."
She looked directly at him.
"Then it's mine to make."
He stared for several seconds.
Then glanced toward the ponds.
The workers were continuing the carefully managed transfer.
Water moved through the hose.
Silver fish flashed beneath the surface.
The businessman looked almost sick.
Finally, he turned and walked toward his pickup.
But before leaving, he stopped beside the older hatchery driver.
He lowered his voice.
"Who certified these ponds?"
The driver frowned.
"Why?"
The buyer forced a smile.
"Professional curiosity."
The older man studied him.
Then answered, "Independent laboratories and qualified fisheries specialists. The records are available to the authorized parties."
The businessman's face tightened.
He nodded.
Then climbed into his truck.
As he drove away, he called someone.
The daughter couldn't hear the conversation.
But the driver watched the pickup disappear.
Then turned toward her.
"That man always this friendly?"
For the first time all afternoon, she laughed.
"No."
The older man smiled.
"Thought so."
Then his expression became serious.
"Your father didn't trust him."
The woman looked up.
"What?"
The driver hesitated.
"I shouldn't speak for somebody who isn't here."
She waited.
He continued.
"But I remember your dad asking a lot of questions about that fellow's interest in the southern land."
The woman's heartbeat quickened.
"What kind of questions?"
The driver looked toward the pump house.
"Water rights. Drainage access. The proposed industrial expansion."
She frowned.
The older man continued.
"He said the buyer kept pretending the ponds had no value while asking for rights that might be valuable to somebody else."
For several seconds, the woman remained silent.