Eli looked up from his measurements. "Disappointed?"
"No."
She meant it.
Treasure was simple.
This required understanding.
Three days before Marcus's offer was supposed to expire, the telephone rang during supper.
Eli answered from the kitchen wall.
"Bell place."
Norah watched his face.
"Evening, Marcus."
A pause.
"No, haven't decided."
Another pause.
Eli's eyebrows rose.
"That's different from fifteen hundred."
Norah sat straighter.
"Why?"
Longer silence.
"Uh-huh."
Then: "No. Not tonight."
He hung up.
"How much?" Norah asked.
Eli returned to his plate.
"Three thousand."
She stared.
"He doubled it."
"Arithmetic still works."
"What reason?"
"Says a customer in Memphis wants reclaimed cypress."
"Did he say cypress before?"
"No."
Norah pushed her food around her plate. "He knows."
"He knows enough."
"Three thousand would fix almost everything."
"Not everything."
"Most."
Eli ate in silence.
Norah realized with discomfort that she wanted him to reject the offer immediately because curiosity had become hers. The logs were a mystery she had opened, and selling them felt like somebody closing the book before she reached the end. But the farm did not belong to her alone, and curiosity did not repair fencing.
"If you need to sell," she said, "I understand."
Eli looked at her.
"Do you?"
"I'm trying to."
"That's honest."
"I don't want to sell."
"Also honest."
She looked toward the window. "Can we at least get the legal question answered first?"
"Already called Ben Halpern."
Norah blinked. "The lawyer?"