Page 124 of Tessa and Nash

And pride turned it into war.

Mom continues, “Your father heard it from his father, and his father heard it from his. But every time someone got close to digging, someone else said leave it alone.”

“Because they were afraid,” I whisper.

Mom nods once.

Fear disguised as certainty.

I feel it now, a cold truth settling into the bones of this ranch.

“I need to know,” I half whisper. “Did we… take it?”

Mom’s gaze pins me.

She doesn’t answer fast.

“Nash,” she says slowly, “land isn’t just paper. It’s work. It’s use. It’s survival. It’s… time.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Mom’s jaw tightens again. “Fine. Here’s what I believe. I believe your great-grandfather didn’t set out to steal. I believe he set out to keep his cattle alive. And then when the Longs lost Jonah…” She glances at my phone once more, “…everything got twisted. Grief turned into suspicion. Pride turned into a wall. And at some point, paperwork got filed that protected us.”

My throat goes dry. “So we benefited.”

“Yes,” she says bluntly. “We benefited.

My breath stutters because hearing it from my mother makes it real.

And because my guest ranch plan is sitting right on top of those old lines like a match over dry grass.

I stare at the map again.

I see the creek and the shaded winter pasture, and I see the cabins in my head. The neat little rectangles on my sketch page, the porches, the lights, the promise.

“Mayor Caldwell’s going to ask for surveys,” I say, mostly to myself.

Mom’s gaze sharpens. “She should.”

“And if Thomas Long pushes this into a full dispute⁠—”

“Then the council will freeze your project.”

I look up at her. “You sound certain.”

Mom’s mouth tightens. “I’m being realistic.”

My chest aches. “So what do I do?”

Mom holds my stare.

Then, because she is my mother and she doesn’t soften things unless she has to, she says, “You learn exactly what you’re standing on before you build anything on it.”

I rub a hand over my face. “Tessa’s going to be dragged into this.”

“The Longs have always been in it, Nash. That’s the point.”

Rusty grunts in agreement.