“Do you know anything about how I connect to all of this?” I ask, knowing that my family name wasn’t just placed in that will out of chance. There is a reason for it—especially if Daisy remembers my father coming into the café.
Aunt May looks up, her eyes brightening once more. “Just before Samuel took over, our parents were hittingsnags with their land, and they were honestly concerned about the government taking ownership of the place, claiming it was on government property or what have you.”
She stops to take another sip of her tea before continuing.
“Anyway, your father helped our parents avoid sanctions for environmental purposes. Gosh, that had to be around twenty-five years ago,” she explains, her words settling over me as I slowly start painting the picture.
When I was five, I started seeing my father coming home less and less. He’d always tell me that he was doing good things for good people, but he’d always come home to me, even if it wasn’t that night or the night after.
I still remember the time when he was gone for a whole week and I couldn’t talk to him.
My mom would always tell me that he would call when he could, but phones weren’t so great where he was. It made sense. Back then, cell towers and phone lines weren’t run as extensively as they are now, so I shudder to think what Bell River’s ability to contact anyone within a ten-mile radius looked like in the nineties and early two-thousands.
This puts it all in perspective for me—well, maybe not everything. I don’t want Gage’s aunt telling me deeplypersonal things about him that he wouldn’t want me to know—understanding him shouldn’t come at the cost of betraying him.
I’m curious, of course, but the last thing I need is to put her in a position that makes Gage resent her.
As far as my name being in the will, I understand it better now. Samuel isn’t giving me part ownership of the ranch for anything other than as a thank-you to my family.
Clearly, my father knows about it, but I still wonder why they didn’t place it in his name instead of mine. My father anticipates that one day I’ll take over his company—a small environmental consulting business—but I don’t anticipate this being my first task.
Despite gaining deeper insight, there is still so much I don’t know. I think those answers will have to come from Gage. I wish it weren’t the case, but like this entire experience, it’s going to be a long, fought war between the two of us, and there’s no telling how it’s going to end.
When it’s time for me to head back, I feel more confident returning to the ranch. I can finally see the attachment I’m meant to have.
My family may not have generations of legacy here, but my father helped save this place once before, and it’s my own legacy obligation to make sure it’s saved once more.
Later that day, as soon as I return, I see Gage with the ranch hands in the pasture. He fixed the fence; no surprise, maybe he took what I said to heart. Whether he still believes I had something to do with it means very little to me, but what does matter is checking the water main.
I walk past the men and reach into the bed of Gage’s work truck for the tools. They stop what they’re doing to watch me, but I ignore them—mostly Gage.
I haul the tools to the water main that Gage mentioned is behind the main house and kneel down. I inspect it and check over the monitoring system, the gauge line, and scrape away the calcium buildup. That obviously won’t solve the issues, but it will certainly help keep the line from corroding.
I step back and check the piping system on the tank. There could be a blockage, so I get to work using the wrench to unscrew the pipe on the tank, but when I do, I look inside and spot something strange.
An additional pipe leading into the water stream? I keep the initial pipe off and walk along the path from the tank to where the pipe would lead. The path extends down the hill away from the ranch and up to the property-lined fence. In the distance, construction rigs stand idle, and I wonder if the pipe extends that far.
I walk back to the water main and render it incapacitated. I haul the tools into the forest and get to work on the old main.
According to the gauges on the line leading to the back of the house and the tank system, whoever is running an illegal pipe to the Hollis tank is bleeding the ranch dry of water. The question is: who is it, and what can we do about it?
Since I know Gage will never do it, the only option is to do this myself. I know how this will look if he finds out. But letting the ranch bleed dry while I wait for his permission isn’t an option either.
If I can redirect the water into the forest line using the old main, we can manage the water better. Whoever serviced the initial water main knew it would be redirected—so I’m changing that.
I spend a few hours fixing the piping on the old main and flushing out any debris that has settled into it over the last year. Rerouting the pipe took longer than I expected, but the moment I clicked the main on and heard it roar to life, I knew it was the correct call.
Now, I can’t avoid it, though.
I need to talk to Gage about the illegal diversion of the water. That’s the only thing I care about right now.Whatever crap is between us is so unimportant, but this needs to be addressed.
That evening, I find him in the kitchen drinking a beer alone. When I step inside the house, he looks up at me and we share an uncomfortable look. I would rather avoid him, but he has a right to know.
“Listen, I need to talk to you,” I start, and he clears his throat.
“Yes, I need to talk to you as well.”
I hold my hands up, not wanting to get into anything that has to do with me and him. I don’t have the energy or the care right now for it. It always ends up the same, and right now, my focus is on the ranch. Anything else to do with Gage is secondary.
