My farm sat in the center.
Horizon Ridge land lay south.
Cedar Ridge lay east.
A thick red line crossed thirty-two acres of my north field.
Then continued west.
Across my cattle pasture.
Across the creek.
Straight toward State Highway 14.
A proposed road.
Not a walking trail.
Not recreational access.
A road.
Four lanes.
The legend read:
HORIZON RIDGE WESTERN RESORT ACCESS CORRIDOR.
Rachel’s finger followed the line.
“This isn’t about thirty-two acres.”
Linda shook her head.
“No.”
“What is it?”
“Horizon Ridge bought the land south of Cedar Ridge last year. Their problem is highway access. The east entrance can’t support projected traffic without an interchange.”
I stared at the map.
“They want my farm.”
“They need part of it.”
“How much?”
“According to the feasibility study? Eighty-six acres.”
Rachel looked at her.
“And the HOA option?”
“If Cedar Ridge establishes the original access agreement as valid, Horizon Ridge gets the corridor.”
