For three days the pond became the subject of every conversation in Thistledown Hollow. At the feed mill, men who had laughed at Adele debated whether the pipe was part of an abandoned distillery. At the diner, someone suggested Josiah had hidden money under the water, because a treasure story was easier to understand than an old drainage problem. A retired road worker said he remembered seeing similar riveted iron on a railroad water tower, though he could not explain how it might have ended up beneath a pond. None of the theories agreed, and the fact of their disagreement made everybody speak a little louder.
Adele continued doing chores while people speculated. She rose before light, carried hay to the cattle, washed the milking equipment, and checked fences along the north pasture. Each day she made time to walk the protected perimeter of the excavation and compare the newly exposed features with the photographs from the previous afternoon. Warren had uncovered a section where the pipe changed grade, and the creek stones beneath it had been fitted closely enough that only thin seams separated them. The work was so careful that Adele found herself feeling protective of the unknown person who had done it.
Frank Doyle came over on the fourth day with a thermos of coffee and a sheepish expression he tried to hide beneath the brim of his cap. He stood at the fence for a long time while Adele finished securing a gate, then held up the thermos as an offer of truce. The coffee tasted strong enough to remove paint, exactly as it had for the twenty-six years she had known him. "If there's something down there," he said at last, staring toward the open pond, "I want to be wrong about calling you foolish."
It was not quite an apology. Frank had made a career out of admitting mistakes without putting the admission where anyone could easily hear it, and Adele recognized the effort involved. "You already are wrong about that part," she said. He gave a short embarrassed laugh, and for a moment they were simply neighbors standing near a wet field with cups of bitter coffee. Then he asked whether she needed help moving the old cattle panels away from the trench, and she accepted.
That afternoon they worked side by side in a wind sharp enough to redden their cheeks. Frank was accustomed to Everett's presence, to consulting him about machinery and borrowing a length of chain or a spare tractor part with the understanding that favors would