He didn't understand every legal implication.
But he understood enough to know this was important.
He reached for his phone.
Then called Ezra Cole.
The old man answered after several rings.
“Noah?”
The boy's voice trembled.
“Mr. Cole, I found the agreement.”
Silence.
Then Ezra whispered, “What agreement?”
“The one Grandpa drew. The six families.”
For several seconds, the old man didn't answer.
Then his voice changed.
“Don't give that paper to anybody, son.”
Noah felt a chill.
“Why?”
Ezra took a slow breath.
“Because if it's what I think it is, Dale Harker has been telling people a story about that land that isn't true.”
Dale arrived at the fence the next afternoon.
Billy and Pete came with him.
They stood in the same place as before, leaning on the wooden rails while Noah worked in the garden.
The garlic rows looked unimpressive.
A few bulbs had begun producing early shoots, but most of the soil remained bare. Noah understood that the unusually warm planting conditions might damage part of the crop, and he'd already decided to reserve additional cloves for more suitable autumn planting if the trials failed.
Dale didn't care about those details.
He pointed toward the furrows.
“Well, would you look at that. Still no garlic.”
Billy laughed.
Pete shook his head.
“Boy must be waiting for the ground to apologize.”
Noah kept working.
Dale leaned farther over the fence.
“You hear me, Noah?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your mother ought to be embarrassed.”
The boy's hands stopped.
For a moment, he stared at the soil.
Then he looked up.
“Please don't talk about my mother.”
Dale's expression hardened.
“Then stop making a spectacle of yourself.”
Noah swallowed.
He looked toward the house.
Grace was at work.
Ezra hadn't arrived.
And the three men seemed determined to stay until he reacted.
He thought about Grandpa's words.
Never argue with a man who's laughing too loudly to hear you.