Chapter 13 - The Winter Beef Gamble
Edward Hayes carried a packet of letters.
Thomas had written them during the final year of his life.
He never mailed them.
Edward found them inside a Bible after their mother's death.
Margaret sat alone to read.
Thomas had known the Kansas farm was failing.
He had known his decisions made things worse.
And he had known Margaret was trying to warn him.
One line broke her.
I kept thinking being the husband meant I had to know more than she did, when all along the smartest person on that farm was sleeping beside me.
Margaret cried until there were no tears left.
The final letter was addressed to her.
Thomas apologized.
Not for dying.
For making her carry the consequences of his pride.
He hoped someday she would build something with a man who listened.
Margaret pressed the letter against her chest.
Nathan found her hours later.
She handed it to him.
He read.
Then sat beside her.
“I'm sorry.”
Margaret shook her head.
“For the first time, I'm not.”
Nathan waited.
“I spent years angry at him.”
“You had reason.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“I don't want anger to be the last thing I carry.”
She folded the letter.
Thomas's memory stopped being a wound that day.
It became part of the road behind her.
Not erased.
Not worshiped.
Simply understood.
Life moved forward.
Samuel became obsessed with cattle.
Lucy followed Margaret everywhere.
Cyrus taught both children to ride and pretended he disliked doing it.
The ranch entered another winter stronger than ever.
But nature had one more test.
Snow came early.
Then kept coming.
The railroad closed.
Their largest beef shipment couldn't move.
Nathan calculated losses.
Margaret calculated storage.
“We can hold it.”
“How long?”
“Six weeks safely.”
“And if the railroad stays closed?”
“Then we have a problem.”
Cyrus entered.
“Make that two.”
A roof beam in the curing shed had cracked under snow.
Everyone ran.
They unloaded half the building before the beam collapsed.
No one was hurt.
But hundreds of pounds of beef now needed new storage.
Nathan stared at the damaged shed.
“Town warehouse?”
“Full,” Cyrus said.
Margaret thought.
Then Samuel spoke.
“What about the old ice house?”
Everyone looked at him.
Nathan frowned.
“It hasn't been used in years.”
Samuel shrugged.
“It's cold.”
Margaret kissed his forehead.
“You may have just saved several hundred dollars.”
They cleaned the ice house.
Moved the beef.
Recorded every batch.
Temperature remained safe.
Three weeks later, the railroad reopened.
The shipment left.
The buyer praised its quality.
Nothing lost.
Nathan gave Samuel a silver dollar.
The boy stared at it.
“For what?”
“Consulting fee.”
Samuel looked at Margaret.
“What's consulting?”
“Getting paid because someone else didn't think of the answer.”
Samuel grinned.
“I want that job.”
“You and everybody else.”
Christmas came.
The ranch house filled with people.
Pete married a schoolteacher.
Wade became livestock manager.
Cyrus received a formal partnership share.
He stared at the paper.
“I can't accept this.”
Margaret said, “Then I'll fire you.”
“You can't fire a partner.”
“Exactly.”
He signed.
Cardy attended dinner.
Nobody quite knew what to do with him.
Lucy solved the problem by demanding he hold her doll while she ate pie.
The feared Amos Cardy sat through dessert with a rag doll in his lap.
Nathan nearly died trying not to laugh.
Late that night, after everyone left, Margaret and Nathan stood on the porch.
Snow covered the South Range.
Nathan put his arm around her.
“Remember when you arrived?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I needed a wife who could salt beef.”
“You did.”
“I needed considerably more.”
Margaret leaned against him.
“You needed accounting.”
“I was going to say you.”
“That too.”
He kissed her temple.
Then headlights—no, lanterns—appeared on the road.
A wagon.
At that hour.
Nathan frowned.
The wagon stopped at the gate.
A man climbed down.
He carried an official envelope.
“Brooks?”
“Yes.”
“Telegram from Cheyenne.”
Nathan signed.
Margaret watched his expression change as he read.
“What?”
He handed it to her.
The Army purchasing office wanted a meeting.
A massive long-term contract was being considered.
Enough to transform Brooks Ranch permanently.
But at the bottom was another line.
COMPETING BID SUBMITTED BY A. CARDY.
May you like
Margaret slowly looked toward the road.
Cardy had just left their Christmas table.
