Chapter 25 - What the Copper Was Worth
A new geological survey estimated Black Ridge contained copper worth several million dollars at future prices.
The news spread.
Offers arrived immediately.
Mining companies promised safer methods.
Investors offered Corvin enormous sums for his portion of any future rights.
One offer exceeded four hundred thousand dollars.
Corvin stared at the paper.
He could rebuild every fence.
Buy thousands of cattle.
Pay every legitimate debt.
Never worry about drought again.
Mara found him reading it.
"Tempted?"
"Yes."
She seemed surprised by the honesty.
"You expected me to say no?"
"Most men prefer to lie beautifully."
"Four hundred thousand dollars is beautiful."
She sat across from him.
"What would extraction do?"
"Depends on method."
"And water?"
"Risk remains."
"Then the agreement requires joint approval."
"I know."
She watched him.
"Are you angry?"
"A little."
"At me?"
"At arithmetic."
Mara smiled.
They commissioned independent engineers.
Months of study followed.
One proposed method reduced contamination risk dramatically but not entirely.
The decision went to the joint council established by the new compact.
Representatives from Mara's communities.
Corvin.
Local residents dependent on the aquifer.
Federal observers.
The vote was not unanimous.
Some Apache families favored controlled development because restitution did not erase poverty.
Some ranchers opposed mining because they needed water.
The divisions did not follow simple ethnic lines.
Corvin appreciated that.
Reality refused to become a clean story.
In the final meeting, Mara spoke.
"We should not preserve poverty simply because greed once threatened us. But neither should we call risk progress because money is large."
Corvin agreed.
They approved only exploratory work under strict conditions.
No commercial extraction until water safety could be demonstrated over time.
Investors complained.
Corvin lost the four-hundred-thousand-dollar offer.
That evening he sat beside the well.
Jonah arrived.
"You look like a man who misplaced a fortune."
"I know exactly where it is."
He pointed toward Black Ridge.
Jonah laughed.
"That worse?"
"Much."
They drank coffee.
Children from town rode past toward the new public trough.
Construction had finished that week.
The first drought-season access rules were posted.
Jonah looked at the riders.
"Father would hate that."
"The public trough?"
"Strangers using Torne water."
Corvin smiled.
"Mother would like it."
They sat in silence.
Then Jonah handed him a letter.
From Gideon.
Corvin hesitated.
Finally opened it.
No excuses.
No requests for forgiveness.
Only a list of additional properties purchased with questionable Dry Creek funds.
Gideon wanted them investigated.
At the bottom:
You told me not to use Helena to forgive myself. I have stopped. It is quieter without excuses.
Corvin folded the page.
"Good letter?"
"No."
"Bad?"
"No."
"What, then?"
"Useful."
Jonah smiled.
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Helena would have approved.
Make it work.
