The offer arrived the next day. It was higher than Warren expected but lower than the value he believed the land might hold if the wetland project succeeded. More importantly, the buyer was an entity connected through a joint venture to the same development consortium that controlled the tract upstream.
Casey found the connection in public corporate records.
"They want the field," she said.
Warren stood at the kitchen counter reading the proposal. "They've wanted the field for a while."
"But now they know about the wetland evaluation."
"Maybe."
"Gerald asked you about it last week."
"He did."
"So the land went from damaged collateral to something worth buying through their affiliate right after specialists started looking at it."
Warren set the paper down. "That doesn't prove they caused the flooding."
Casey looked at him, surprised.
He shrugged. "Harlon's rubbing off on me."
The offer expired in ten days.
Warren refused it on day two.
Gerald called within an hour.
"You didn't even negotiate."
"You told me water makes decisions for people. Turns out I'm still making mine."
"This is not a game."
"No. It's my farm."
"If you miss the cure deadline, Cornerstone will proceed."
"Then proceed carefully."
Warren hung up before Gerald could answer.
The bravado lasted until evening.
After supper he sat alone on the porch while combines moved like distant lights across neighboring fields. Casey found him there long after dark.
"You okay?"
"No."