"Why would an HOA take this much risk?" I asked.
Susan traced a figure with her finger. "They pitched it as a way to pay for improvements without raising regular dues. New roads, better drainage, more security, maybe a bigger clubhouse. Everybody likes improvements when they think somebody else is paying."
"And who pays if the project can't be finished on the original route?"
"That's the question nobody wants to calculate in public."
She explained that some residents had already agreed to special assessments, believing they would be temporary contributions recouped by future revenue. Others had accepted the plan because Margaret assured them the developers and lawyers had cleared every necessary approval. Susan could not know whether the association had acted carelessly or been misled by outside advisers. She wanted an independent audit before homeowners were asked to contribute another dollar.
As we spoke, a man at the next table leaned over and asked if I was the rancher holding up the data center. He was a delivery driver from Northridge whose children played at the community park. He said he supported the facility because the county needed jobs and better services. Then he asked me whether I really intended to block the project forever.
"I intend to keep them off the ranch unless they obtain a lawful right," I said. "That doesn't mean I want the rest of the project canceled."
"Could you just let them through and argue about the money later?"
I looked at him for a moment. "If somebody asked to park in your driveway for one afternoon, you might say yes. If they poured a permanent road across it while promising they'd sort out the details later, would you call that the same thing?"
He thought about it. "No," he admitted. "But this is a bigger project."
"Which is why they should have done the paperwork before they spent the bigger money."
The conversation ended without either of us angry. He said he had not known an entire stretch of the line crossed my land, only that I was refusing an easement people claimed already existed. When he left, Susan watched him through the window and said that was the challenge facing homeowners. They were being asked to choose sides without being given a reliable description of the dispute.
The data center meanwhile approached mechanical completion. Cooling equipment had been installed, temporary power supported testing, and trucks delivered large components in crates that required two forklifts to move. It looked less like a construction site each day and more like a finished industrial facility waiting for someone to turn on the lights. I drove past it when I went into town and sometimes found myself almost admiring the precision of the work before remembering why it was still dark.