Chapter 5 - WHAT MY MOTHER HAD BEEN HIDING
I drove straight to Mom's house.
She was sitting at the kitchen table when I arrived.
The old blue coffee mug Dad had used every morning was beside her.
She looked at my face and knew.
“You found out.”
“You requested the hearing records.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She folded her hands.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of Brock?”
“Of losing the land.”
“You signed an affidavit.”
“I did.”
“You told the water board Dad agreed.”
“I thought he would.”
I stared at her.
“That isn't an answer.”
She closed her eyes.
“Your father had been sick.”
“Dad wasn't sick.”
“He was exhausted.”
“Mom.”
She finally looked at me.
“Brock offered me money.”
I felt betrayed.
“How much?”
“Twenty-two thousand.”
“The same twenty-two thousand from the transfer.”
“Yes.”
“And you agreed?”
“I thought I could protect the land.”
“You thought selling the water rights would protect the land?”
“No.”
She began crying.
“I thought I could buy time.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
That stopped me.
Mom opened a drawer.
Inside was a stack of letters.
All from Dad.
She handed me the first.
Margaret,
If I die before this is settled, don't let them convince the girls that the water rights are worth less than the land.
My mother's hands shook.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew they would come after us.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you hide this?”
“Because I made a promise.”
“To whom?”
“To your father.”
She handed me another letter.
Cassidy will fight them.
My throat tightened.
Darcy will want peace.
You will want both daughters safe.
That is why they will use you.
I looked at Mom.
“He knew.”
She nodded.
“He knew exactly how this would happen.”
Then I saw a third letter.
If they offer you money, take the meeting but don't sign.
Mom whispered:
“I didn't sign.”
“But you told them you would.”
“I wanted them to believe I was on their side.”
I sat down.
Suddenly, my mother's actions looked different.
Not innocent.
But not simple betrayal either.
“What were you doing?”
“Buying time.”
“For how long?”
“Until I could find the original permit.”
“You couldn't?”
“I thought Norville had it.”
I shook my head.
“He did.”
Mom looked relieved.
Then she said:
“But there was another problem.”
“What?”
“Darcy.”
My chest tightened.
“What about her?”
“She believed Brock's version.”
“Why?”
“Because Brock told her the farm would fail without expansion.”
Mom explained that Darcy had invested nearly all her savings into Brock's equipment.
If the irrigation project failed, they could lose everything.
“So she wasn't trying to get rich.”
“No.”
“She was trying to save her marriage.”
Mom nodded.
“But she convinced herself that hurting you was necessary.”
I remembered the shove.
The fence post.
The broken rain gauge.
I wasn't ready to excuse that.
But I understood the fear behind it.
Then Mom pulled out another envelope.
“This is why I was really afraid.”
Inside was a photograph of Dad and Brock's father.
They were standing beside the irrigation channel.
Brock's father was holding a folder.
On the back:
THE ORIGINAL AGREEMENT.
“What agreement?”
Mom's face went pale.
“Your father told me there was a private agreement about maintaining the irrigation channel.”
“Between whom?”
“Your father and Brock's father.”
I read the document.
It wasn't a transfer.
It was a maintenance agreement.
Brock's father had promised to maintain the channel for the benefit of Dad's land.
In exchange, Dad allowed limited access.
But the agreement specifically prohibited transferring the water rights.
Brock had been violating the arrangement for years.
“That means the new system is illegal.”
“Potentially.”
“And they knew.”
“Yes.”
I felt anger returning.
“They knew.”
Mom nodded.
“They knew.”
Then my phone rang.
Norville.
I answered.
“Cassidy, you need to come to my office.”
“Why?”
“I found something in your father's estate file.”
“What?”
“An amendment.”
“To the will?”
“Yes.”
My heart stopped.
“Does it change the land?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Norville's voice became quiet.
“It changes who has authority to manage the irrigation rights while your mother holds the life estate.”
I looked at Mom.
“Who?”
“Your father named a third-party trustee.”
“Who?”
Norville hesitated.
“Someone your family knows.”
“Who?”
He answered.
“Brock's father.”
Silence.
“That can't be right.”
“He was appointed to protect the water rights from exactly this kind of dispute.”
I stared at Mom.
Her face had gone white.
Then Norville added:
“There is one problem.”
“What?”
“Brock's father died six months before your father.”
I closed my eyes.
“Then who took over his duties?”
Norville answered.
“That's what I've been trying to determine.”
At that exact moment, Mom's phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her expression changed.
“Who is it?”
She whispered:
“Brock.”
She answered.
May you like
He said only one sentence.
“Tell Cassidy the trustee never died.”
