The land never goes silent, her father used to tell her. People just forget how to listen. At the foot of Cedar Ridge, Nia noticed an uneven line of brush. The plants were low, but greener than anything around them. Beneath them, the soil carried a slightly darker shade.
A natural depression sloped eastward, even though the grass on that side had burned completely dry. Something did not fit. She said nothing over breakfast. She served cornbread, cleared the dishes, and waited until Rhett and Clay had gone outside. Then she found Dusty near the corral.
I need to know where the old Cedar Ridge fence begins. Dusty pointed north. Follow the trail up toward the rise. You can't miss it. Who built it?
Before my time. Maybe before Rhetts, too. Nia filled a canteen and went alone. The walk was longer than it had looked from the ranch house. The sun climbed quickly.
Dust clung to her moccasins. By the time she reached the base of the ridge, sweat had dampened her back, and her throat felt raw with thirst. She knelt beside the darker ground. The surface was baked hard. Nia scraped away the crust with her fingers and pressed her palm beneath it.
The soil was cold, not cool from shade, cold from somewhere underneath. She closed her eyes. There was moisture beneath that dry skin of earth. Nia followed the line of brush toward the fence. The posts were massive, blackened by age, driven deep into the ground.
The fence ran along the foot of Cedar Ridge, exactly where the slope suggested an old natural channel might once have passed. Those posts could have interrupted the underground flow. Water unable to continue east might have backed up or been forced deeper beneath the ridge. Nia stayed there for several minutes, studying the grade and remembering Taza's hands tracing creek beds and water paths in the sand. When she returned to the ranch, Rhett and Clay were standing in the yard.
Rhett looked at the dust covering her dress. Where were you? Cedar Ridge. His expression tightened. That wasn't part of your work.
No. Then why did you go? Nia stopped in front of him. Because I think your ranch has more water than you know. Clay lifted his head slightly.
Rhett did not move. What did you find? Cold soil, moisture under the surface, brush growing along a natural depression, and an old fence built directly across what looks like a water course. That ground's been dry my whole life. Maybe because something's been blocking the water since before you were born.
Rhett's eyes sharpened. You're telling me a fence is drying out my ranch? I'm saying it's worth finding out. For several seconds, the only sound was the wind passing through the yard. At last, Rhett pointed toward the house.
Inside? Nia did not move. What for? So, you can show me on the map where we ought to dig. The map of Holt Ranch was so old, the corners curled upward on their own.