“You knew?”
“I live here.”
“Then why haven't you fixed it?”
Elias rubbed his jaw.
“I have other problems.”
She nodded.
“That is usually what people say when one problem has become too large to face.”
He stared at her.
“You've been here one night.”
“Yes.”
“And you're already criticizing me?”
“No.”
She carried the bucket toward the house.
“I am describing what I see.”
He followed.
At breakfast, she asked about the cattle.
“How many?”
“Seventy-eight.”
“How many are breeding cows?”
“Forty-two.”
“How much hay?”
“Enough for three months if winter is mild.”
“And if it isn't?”
“We'll buy more.”
“With what money?”
Elias looked at her.
Naelli waited.
He finally answered.
“Credit.”
She nodded slowly.
“That's dangerous.”
“I know.”
“You need another income.”
“I know.”
“You need to repair the well.”
“I know.”
“You need to settle the northern boundary.”
“I know.”
“You need—”
“I know.”
She stopped.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Naelli smiled.
“Good.”
“What?”
“You do know.”
She picked up her cup.
“That means you're not blind. You're simply overwhelmed.”
Elias almost laughed again.
Instead, he asked, “What did you do before you came here?”
Naelli looked down.
“I worked.”
“At what?”
“Whatever needed doing.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It is the only one I have.”
He waited.
She finally said, “My father owned a small farm.”
“Owned?”
“He died.”
Elias softened.
“I'm sorry.”
“My stepmother sold it.”
“Why?”
“She said I was not family.”
He looked at her.
Naelli's expression did not change.
“I learned something after that,” she continued.
“What?”
“That people often decide what you are worth before they bother to know you.”
Elias looked away.
Something about her words stayed with him.
Later that afternoon, Naelli walked through the ranch.
She inspected the barn.
The cattle.
The fences.
The storage room.
She even climbed onto the roof of the smokehouse.
Elias watched her from below.
“You're going to fall.”
“No.”
“You don't know that.”
“I checked the boards.”
“You checked the roof?”
“Yes.”
“You're strange.”
“I have been told.”
She climbed down.
Then she pointed toward the eastern pasture.
“Why don't you use that land?”
“Too dry.”
“There's a creek.”
“Seasonal.”
“Not entirely.”
Elias frowned.
“How do you know?”
Naelli pointed toward a line of cottonwood trees.
“Trees need water.”
He stared at her.
She continued.
“If the creek dries there, those trees wouldn't survive.”
Elias walked toward the pasture.
She followed.
They reached the creek.
It was narrow and mostly dry.
But beneath the stones, water still moved.
Elias crouched.
He had never noticed.
Naelli smiled.
“Your land is not dead.”
He looked at the creek.
“No.”
“It is neglected.”
Elias looked at her.
The words landed harder than she knew.
Because he suddenly wondered whether she was talking about more than the ranch.
Four
The Deal
Two weeks later, Elias went into town.
Naelli went with him.
They stopped at the county office.
The clerk, Mr. Whitmore, looked surprised to see them together.
“I thought the wedding was next month.”
“It is,” Elias said.
Whitmore looked at Naelli.
“And you're Miss Naelli?”
“Naelli Cole, soon enough.”
The clerk raised an eyebrow.
Elias noticed.
“So did I,” Naelli said.
Whitmore coughed.
They sat across from him.
Naelli opened her documents.
“We have a boundary dispute.”
Whitmore sighed.
“Yes.”
“Who filed it?”
“Barrett Land Company.”
Elias's jaw tightened.
Nathan Barrett owned the largest ranch in the county.
He had been buying land from struggling farmers for years.
Elias had refused to sell.
Barrett had never forgiven him.
“What does he want?” Naelli asked.
Whitmore answered.
“The northern grazing land.”
“He cannot have it,” Elias said.
Whitmore spread his hands.
“He claims the original survey was incorrect.”
Naelli studied the map.
“Where is the original marker?”
“Missing.”
“When did it disappear?”
Whitmore looked at Elias.
“Six months ago.”
Elias frowned.
“That was after my father died.”
Naelli looked up.
“Who surveyed the property?”
“Barrett's man.”
Silence filled the room.
Naelli folded the map.
“Then we need the original county survey.”
Whitmore hesitated.
“It is archived.”
“Then retrieve it.”
The clerk frowned.
“Miss, it isn't that simple.”
Naelli smiled politely.
“I'm sure you are right.”
She leaned forward.
“But if the county cannot produce the original survey, we will have to ask the state land office to investigate the discrepancy.”
Whitmore stared at her.
Elias stared at her too.
She had spoken calmly.
No anger.
No threat.
Just certainty.
Whitmore cleared his throat.
“I'll see what I can find.”
“Thank you.”
Outside, Elias stopped her.
“What was that?”
“What?”
“You sounded like a lawyer.”
“I am not a lawyer.”
“Then where did you learn that?”
“My father kept books for several farms. I learned to read contracts.”
“You've been hiding things.”
Naelli looked at him.
“No.”
“You never told me you understood land law.”
“You never asked.”
Elias shook his head.
“You are not what I expected.”
“Neither are you.”
He smiled faintly.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“I expected an arrogant man.”
“And?”
She looked at him.
“I was wrong.”
Elias didn't know whether to be pleased.
Then Nathan Barrett stepped from the saloon across the street.