Chapter 2

Marshall shuffled papers.

“You remember old Doc Wilby?”

Tommy nodded at the same time I did and then he quickly glanced at me from the side of his eyes. The Doc had delivered both of us, fixed our broken bones, tended to our fevers and other illnesses. He’d been a kind, bespectacled man in the Norman Rockwell tradition. Those of us who rely on long distance HMOs or mobile clinics these days would think the Doc was a myth if we hadn’t grown up at the tail end of his practice.

“Well, he died last week. Sudden seizure. Seems to be happening all the time these days.” The old lawyer’s gaze settled over my shoulder, and he stared as if seeing a path he was reluctant to take.

Neither Tommy nor I commented, but waited, the patience we’d been taught as kids coming in handy. Fortunately, Mr. Marshall snapped out of his reverie before his staring into space got too worrisome.

“When I was looking around for his will, Stanley at the bank had a boy bring me his safe deposit box with a note saying Doc’s will was in there. He left some property, including his cabin off County Road 414, to both of you.”

My stomach fell just a little, and Tommy sucked in a breath. Since Tommy and I weren’t together in any sense of the word, much less had any real, meaningful contact in the ten years since our freshman year of college, why had the Doc paired us up for this surprise?

“Now before you go asking questions, I gotta tell you I don’t have many answers. The will is dated about the time you two were in high school or maybe the first year of college. This part of the will’s never been changed nor updated.”

Again, Mr. Marshall stared off, this time looking as if he were hearing a faraway ethereal voice. Then he nodded and sighed, shuffled the papers on his desk, and eyed the two of us. I didn’t know about Tommy, but I was shell-shocked. Prime farmland that bordered my acres was a God-send. I’d be willing to bet Tommy felt the same. What was the catch? There had to be one.

“I just love that Internet. Don’t you, boys? I looked up the land’s coordinates on Google Earth, and it shows most of it is creek lowland with a willow copse and not much else. It’d have to be cleared for irrigation purposes or planting, and it’d probably be pretty good for grazing. You’d have to decide. I don’t have the deed yet, so I’m just going by the notations the Doc left, not on the legally documented property lines. But there’s enough information here for you to figure out the general lay of the land.” Mr. Marshall looked down and examined his wrinkled hands. “Here’s the problem. The Doc gave the land to both of you as joint owners.”

Tommy and I exchanged a stunned look.

“That means you can divide it any way you want or jointly work it. Like I said, it includes the Doc’s vacation cabin and all that’s in it. He was getting a little crusty of late, so the cabin and barn might not be in good shape. You’ll have to find out.”

Marshall sighed and reshuffled the papers on the desk, bringing two manila envelopes to the top of the pile on his blotter.

“You can just keep the property as joint tenants. But everything might be cleaner from a legal standpoint since one of you is a farmer and the other’s a rancher, for one of you to buy out the other. I’m not saying you have to do that. It’s your call. But if something happened to one of you, well, it’d become a problem for whoever probates your will

“My advice is you go on out there and visit the land. Decide which one of you wants to sell and which one wants to buy. Or how you want to split it up.” The old man ran a hand over his head again. “Then I could help you clean up ownership and your descendants will thank us for our foresight.”

Marshall got shakily to his feet.

“Now I’m going to leave you boys here to talk about what you want to do while I go visit the gents, maybe take one of those pills the new doc gave me. When I get back, all I need from you two is for you to tell me how you want to proceed. We should be able to clear this up without too much fuss.”

Mr. Marshall hobbled to the doorway and left. The door gave a decisive click and rattle as it closed.