He stared.
“You're draining water during a drought?”
“Not much.”
“Your dad know?”
Her father, standing twenty yards away, called:
“Unfortunately.”
The neighbor laughed.
“What are you trying to prove?”
“I’m not trying to prove anything.”
“That’s what people say when they’re trying to prove something.”
She wrote a number.
The neighbor looked over her shoulder.
“What does it say?”
“Level recovered two-point-three inches overnight.”
He frowned.
“No rain?”
“No.”
He looked at the pond.
Then back at her.
“So there’s groundwater.”
“Yes.”
“Congratulations. Farms have springs.”
She smiled.
“Maybe.”
He rolled his eyes.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You say maybe about everything.”
“Because I don't know yet.”
“You went to school so you could not know professionally.”
“That’s one interpretation.”
He left laughing.
But the next morning he returned.
“How much did it come back?”
She looked up from the gauge.
“Another inch-point-eight.”
His face changed slightly.
“That’s a lot.”
“Yes.”
“How big is the pond?”
She told him.
He did some mental arithmetic.
Not exact, but enough.
“That would be…”
“A lot of water.”
He nodded.
Then recovered his skepticism.
“Still groundwater.”
“Yes.”
“Nothing special.”
“Maybe.”
He groaned.
By October the drought eased.
Rain returned.
The pond rose naturally.
Her testing became harder.
She waited.
Winter gave her time for research.
At the county archive she found an 1891 agricultural map.
The property belonged then to a different family.
The map showed a mark near the modern pond.
Not blue.
A small black circle labeled:
Spring House
Her breath caught.
The librarian leaned over.
“What did you find?”
She pointed.
The woman adjusted glasses.
“That’s old.”
“What exactly does spring house mean?”
“Could mean storage over running water.”
“Milk cooling.”
“Domestic water.”
“Depends.”
“Would they build one over an artesian spring?”
“Possibly.”
The young farmer photographed the map.
Her father stared at it that evening.
“So your pond used to be a spring.”
“Maybe.”
He groaned.
She smiled.
“Could be unrelated.”
“It’s in the same place.”
“Map accuracy wasn’t perfect.”
He pointed at her.
“You are enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Then they found another clue.
An old newspaper article from 1913.
Local farm sale advertisement.
It described the property:
160 acres improved ground, strong barn, orchard, year-round flowing well near east meadow, excellent stock water.
Year-round flowing well.
Her father went quiet.
“What happened to it?”
“I don't know.”