Page 53 of Awaiting the Storm
“That smells like real java,” Grandpa says, eyeing the steaming cup in front of him.
“It is. Don’t rat on me,” I say as they both reach for the mugs at the same time.
“What’s this about?” Grandpa asks as he takes a long sip.
I sit down in the armchair across from them, lay the folder in my lap, and take a deep breath.
“It’s about the offer from Ironhorse.”
Earl’s eyebrows shoot up.
Daddy’s face stays mostly unreadable as he answers, “I reckon we’ve got a few minutes to spare.”
“I looked through it last night,” I continue. “Line by line. It’s … honestly a really good offer.”
Grandpa grunts, “I bet it is.”
Daddy clears his throat. “Now, Pop, lets reserve judgment and hear her out,” he says, then tilts his head in my direction. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”
I nod. “Like I said, it’s a good offer. Generous even. So, I asked myself why he’s offering so much for a thousand acres of pasture land when he has thirty thousand of his own.”
Grandpa leans forward, elbows on his knees. “And what answer’d you come to?”
I open the folder, flip a few pages, and point to the proposed land tract. “Well, it’s prime grazing land. Great water access. Easy to fence off. I figure they’re bringing in a new herd. Maybe cattle or maybe bison—heck, I’ve even heard he’s been interested in bringing in elk.”
“Sounds about right,” Grandpa mutters. “That Holland Ludlow don’t throw around money unless it’s gonna make him more of it.”
I glance over at Daddy. He just takes a slow sip of coffee. Completely calm.
Which is odd.
But I push on.
“I know it’s a big decision,” I say. “I mean, theoretically, we should be the ones who are using our land to make more money. But we just don’t have the resources. I’ve tried to get a loan to invest in livestock, but unfortunately, we don’t have the collateral the bank requires, and we’re past due on the loans we do have. I’ve been cutting corners everywhere I can, and it’s just not enough. We need a miracle. One that’s going to give us some breathing room. And one-point-two million dollars means we can catch up on the loans, fix what needs fixin’, rehire at least a few hands we had to let go, and”—I hesitate—“maybe even be able to pick up some new horses at the auction.”
That’s when Daddy sets his mug down.
His eyes meet mine. “I support the sale,” he says.
Just like that.
I blink. “You do?”
“I do,” he repeats. “Been thinking about it too. I had a conversation with that boy myself a few weeks back, and I promised if they came in with a fair offer, I’d give it an honest consideration.”
That catches me off guard. “Caison?”
He nods. “We ran into each other at Blackey’s. He talked to me about it. Told me what he wanted and why. He was honest. Seems like an upstanding fella. That counts for something.”
I look at Grandpa, who still seems skeptical.
“Grandpa?”
He lets out a long breath and scratches his chin. “Don’t love the idea of selling off pieces of Wildhaven Storm. Never have. But … hell, this place has to survive. If selling a thousand acres saves the other eleven thousand and buys you some peace of mind, then I say it’s worth it.”
The tension in my chest lets go all at once. I didn’t even realize how heavy this decision was weighing on me. Knowing the two of them are okay with this makes all the difference.
“All right then,” I say softly. “I’ll call Caison and tell him he can set the wheels in motion.”
