Eli stepped toward him.
"You already did."
The next morning, Eli removed the fence himself.
By noon, the county sheriff arrived.
Eli expected a confrontation.
Instead, the sheriff looked at the road, looked at the fence pieces lying beside it, and sighed.
"Nobody filed a permit for this."
"So?"
"So don't put it back."
The sheriff left.
Emma watched from the truck.
"That's it?"
"For now."
But that evening, someone drove slowly past the farmhouse.
A black SUV.
It stopped at the mailbox.
Then it continued.
Eli watched through the window.
Something had changed.
This wasn't a disagreement anymore.
It was a campaign.
And Eli had just become the opposition.
The offer arrived on a Tuesday.
A lawyer named Daniel Mercer came to the farmhouse.
He was younger than Eli expected, wearing a navy suit and carrying a leather folder.
"I represent a development company interested in acquiring part of your property."
"No."
Daniel blinked.
"I haven't told you the amount."
"Doesn't matter."
"You might want to hear it."
"I don't."
Emma appeared in the doorway.
"Let him talk, Dad."
Eli frowned.
Daniel opened the folder.
"Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
Silence.
Eli stared at the number.
For a moment, even he had to admit it was significant.
Daniel continued.
"That's for the northern forty acres."
Eli looked toward the window.
Those forty acres contained the oldest pasture on the property.
His grandfather had raised cattle there.
His father had planted corn there.
Eli had learned to drive a tractor there.
"No."
Daniel sighed.
"I expected that."
"Then why come?"
"Because eventually you'll have to decide whether holding the land is worth what it costs you."
Eli's eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?"
Daniel closed the folder.
"Nothing threatening."
"Sounds threatening."
"It isn't."
Daniel stood.
"Mr. Harland, the development around you isn't going away."
He walked toward the door.
"You can fight it."
He paused.