She walked the three miles because she needed the time to think and because by the time she arrived, she had thought it through completely enough to know what she was going to say. She knocked on the front door and Hector answered and she asked for Nathaniel and waited on the porch, her hands at her sides, her mind steady. He came out in 5 minutes, pulling on his coat, reading her face immediately the way he always did. What happened? He said.
Victoria Harrington spoke to me yesterday. She said, she told me that Franklin has spoken to the ranchers on the northern grazing agreement. She says if you continue, she stopped, started again. If this continues, they won't sign. She said you'll lose access to 3,000 acres.
He was very still. She came to you directly, he said at the general store. Yes. His jaw tightened in a way she had not seen before. She had no right.
Whether she had the right or not is beside the point. Amelia said, "Nathaniel, I need you to listen to me and I need you to hear me plainly. I'm listening. I've been inside your books." She said, "I know what that grazing agreement is worth to this operation. I know what losing it would cost you.
It is not a small thing," she paused. "And I need you to look at me right now and tell me honestly whether that changes anything." He looked at her. No, he said. Don't say it fast just to say it, she said. I mean it.
Think about it. Your father built this ranch. You've spent your whole life building it further. I'm not worth. Don't.
He said. His voice came out harder than she'd heard it. Not with anger at her, but with something that had run out of patience for the argument. Finish that sentence. Nothing.
I've been calculating costs my entire life. He said, I know what things are worth. I know what this ranch needs. And I know he stopped. His voice evened out.