She paused.
A lot.
Enough to transform her position.
He saw hesitation.
“One thousand.”
She looked toward the south field.
“Why?”
“Investment.”
“No.”
He became irritated.
“What answer would satisfy you?”
“The true one.”
He looked at her.
She waited.
Finally:
“Rail depot.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“The spur won’t only cross.”
He sighed.
“Company may build a loading platform near your boundary.”
“And you want warehouses.”
“Yes.”
There.
Truth.
Business.
Not humiliation.
For once.
She asked:
“How much is the land worth to you?”
He smiled.
Now he recognized the negotiation.
“Thousand.”
“Two.”
He laughed.
“Impossible.”
“Then no.”
“Twelve hundred.”
“Two.”
“Fifteen.”
“Two.”
“You're absurd.”
“So I've been told.”
He looked toward the creek.
“Seventeen hundred.”
She thought.
Twenty acres.
Rocky section near road.
Not best orchard.
Could sell and still hold one hundred forty if land-office conditions and subdivision allowed after patent? But she did not yet own patent outright.
That stopped her.
“I can’t legally convey before patent.”
He looked annoyed.
“We can make an agreement.”
“No.”
“Option.”
“No.”
“You may regret that.”
“Probably.”
He stared.
Then laughed unexpectedly.
“You really did learn.”
“From the best.”
His smile faded when he realized she meant him.
She walked away.
The contest against her homestead claim was filed in spring.
Not by the merchant.
By a distant cousin of his son’s wife.
That was almost worse.
The filing alleged failure to cultivate sufficient acreage and periods of absence inconsistent with residence.
The homesteader received notice by mail.
Her hands shook.
Not because the allegations were strong.
Because land office language made two years of labor look like lines someone could erase.
She rode to town.
The boarding-house owner read it.
“Merchant.”
“Maybe.”
“Obviously.”
“Maybe.”
The owner slammed the paper down.
“I hate your caution.”
“It keeps me from looking foolish.”
The wagon driver said:
“I can testify.”
The creamery owner too.
Blacksmith.
Doctor.
Schoolteacher.
Neighbors.
The homesteader opened her ledger.
Dates.
Receipts.
Witnesses.
Cultivation.
Fence.
Barn.
Dairy shed.
Orchard.
Cheese production.
Residence.
Winter fuel purchases.
Everything.
The very business the merchant tried to stop had created documentation.
The hearing took place at the district land office months later.
The contestant’s attorney argued she had not cultivated enough conventional crop acreage.
The examiner looked at her records.
“What is this dairy enterprise?”