6. Micah #3
She slipped the watch into her apron pocket, her knuckles tightening around the metal casing as she waited.
She'd been standing by the fence line for twenty minutes, trying to calm the persistent drumming in her chest. The memory of the unrecorded nineteen eighty-two deed and the name Sarah Sterling had kept her on edge all afternoon, and she knew the folder tucked under Micah's arm would hold the answers her late mother had spent a lifetime concealing.
She'd spent decades believing she knew every corner of this farm, but now, the ground beneath her felt completely unstable.
She thought she was just protecting her family from the tax implications of that parcel of land, but it seemed to go so much deeper than that.
The familiar aroma of ripening McIntosh apples drifting from the trees did nothing to ease the chill settling beneath her collar.
She stared toward the shadowed hollow, wondering how many other secrets were hidden in the soil she had tended since childhood.
Micah neared the fence, his shoulder slightly stiff as he paused on the opposite side of the wooden rail.
He adjusted his spectacles, his green eyes reflecting the pale light of the rising moon.
He didn't pull the documents from his leather portfolio immediately, keeping his hands rested on the worn cover.
He looked at her with that honest focus that always made her feel exposed, as if he could see right through the protective defenses she worked so hard to maintain.
She was accustomed to being the one who offered strength and handled the details, but standing in the twilight with Micah, her usual shield felt remarkably thin.
"The county files were clear," Micah said, his voice level as he met her gaze across the timber barrier. "The signatures on the transfer papers weren't a simple administrative mistake."
Junie tightened her grip on the wooden rail. "What did you find in the registry?"
"The second witness was listed as a local timber cutter," Micah explained, his tone direct. "But the voter registration records and regional payroll logs show he was a resident of Ohio during that entire decade. He wasn't physically present to witness any transaction in this state."
"And the notary?" Junie pressed, her breath catching in her throat. "The stamp was official."
"The clerk who registered the seal had been admitted to a care facility months earlier," Micah answered, his expression serious. "He'd suffered a stroke and wasn't able to sign or validate any documents. The entire transfer was constructed with fabricated approvals."
Junie felt a cold draft settle in her chest, her fingers curling tight against her apron, but she appreciated his honesty. "Forged. Everything we've based our boundaries on was built on a series of deliberate falsehoods."
"The paperwork was designed to look complete from a distance," Micah noted. "It was administrative camouflage. It kept the six acres hidden from the standard tax audits and prevented any official inquiries into who was occupying the cottage."
"If the county launches a formal investigation, the record will be public," Junie said, her voice dropping to a low whisper as she looked toward the shadowed trees.
"People will see those documents. They'll look at the signatures and think my mother was a criminal.
They won't care about her reasons, or how hard she worked. They'll only see the fraud."
"I'm not going to offer you a comforting lie," Micah promised, his hand resting near her fingers on the top rail.
"The records are falsified, and the county registrar will have to address the discrepancy.
But I'm not going to make any assumptions about why she did it before we have the complete story.
There's a reason behind these names, and we need to find it. "
"I know my mother. She wouldn’t do something like this without a noble reason. She must have kept those secrets to protect people," Junie insisted, her knuckles turning white against the timber. "I don’t know why, but she had to have a good reason."
"We'll find the answers together," Micah replied, and in that moment she appreciated his unyielding support. "But we have to look at the documents honestly. You can't protect her memory by hiding from the facts."
Junie looked down at the weathered wood of the rail, her chest rising as she let out a long breath.
She knew this was a weight she could no longer carry alone.
She looked back at Micah, the blunt honesty in his face no longer felt like a threat.
It felt like an anchor, keeping her steady.
She realized she couldn't continue to carry the full burden of this farm's legacy by herself, and she didn't have to.
"We'll go back to the files in the morning," she agreed.
He gave her a nod, his fingers brushing against hers before he turned back toward his truck.
Junie stood alone by the fence, the peacefulness of the orchard offering no answers to the storm she was about to face.
The lanes of the orchard were dark now, the long rows of trees standing like silent sentinels guarding a past that was no longer hers alone to keep.
She would find the truth, even if it meant letting the old boundaries fall.
Even if it meant they had to face the tax implications.
No matter what happened, she was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.