Her expression changed.
He continued before she could respond.
“And because your grandfather once helped my father.”
She blinked.
“You knew him?”
“My father did.”
“He never mentioned your family.”
“My father owed money after a bad winter.”
The rancher looked toward the house.
“Your grandfather loaned him feed without interest.”
The widow said nothing.
“He never asked repayment until the herd recovered.”
The rancher looked at her.
“My father never forgot.”
The widow swallowed.
“That still doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
He removed another folded paper.
She saw the bank stamp.
Her stomach tightened.
“What is that?”
“Your mortgage receipt.”
She stared.
He held it out.
“Paid in full.”
For several seconds she did not move.
Then anger replaced shock.
“What did you do?”
He expected gratitude.
Instead she stepped toward him.
“What did you do?”
“I paid the note.”
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
Her voice rose.
“This is my farm.”
“Yes.”
“My debt.”
“Yes.”
“My responsibility.”
“Yes.”
“Then what gave you the right to walk into a bank and erase it?”
He held the receipt.
“Nothing.”
She stared.
The answer stopped her.
He continued quietly.
“I had no right.”
The widow’s anger faltered.
“I did it anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because the banker was cheating you.”
She looked at the paper.
“What?”
“He was adding penalties designed to keep you behind.”
Her face slowly changed.
The rancher continued.
“There’s more.”
She looked up.
“He doesn’t just want your money.”
The rancher pointed toward the creek.
“He wants your water.”
The widow stared.
“My water?”
“Your deed includes rights from the spring to the stone boundary marker.”
“Yes.”
“Have you seen surveyors?”
Her expression tightened.
“Last week.”
“How many?”
“Two.”
“Where?”
“Near the north ridge.”
“What were they doing?”
“Measuring.”
The rancher’s jaw hardened.
“What happened?”
“I walked out with my rifle.”
He almost smiled.
“They left.”
“I told them the next time they came without permission I’d shoot the equipment.”
His smile vanished.
“Listen to me.”
His voice changed enough that she noticed immediately.
“The railroad is coming through this valley.”
She frowned.
“Everyone says it’s going south.”
“Everyone is wrong.”
She stared.
“The line is coming directly through Clearwater.”
He pointed toward the creek.
“Steam locomotives need water.”
Her face slowly drained of color.
“Your spring is the most reliable source for twenty miles.”
She looked toward the water.
The rancher continued.
“The banker has been buying distressed property along the planned route.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw enough of the ledger.”
She looked at him.
“Why would he know the railroad route?”
The rancher was silent.
Too long.
The widow noticed.
“You know something else.”
He looked toward the horizon.
Then back.