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We’re standing along the fence line looking out over one of Dean’s pastures where I can see several cows off in the distance. It’s beautiful here. I can see for miles over the gently waving grasses.
“Things?” I ask. “Like climate change? The fact that your grain prices are going up every single year? The fact that corporate farms are coming in and buying up family farms left and right?”
Dean shrugs. “They think you all are just a bunch of corporate bigwigs trying to scare us into spending our money. You know how it goes.”
I definitely know how it goes. I know how big corporate farms try to keep small family farms from expanding and thriving. I know how big corporate farms don’t worry about things like weather and disease wiping out feed crops because that simply drives up their beef and pork prices, and all they need to do is go to the government for bailouts.
Scare you? I want to ask. By telling you that extreme temperatures and weather events are going to keep getting worse? Because that’s just true. By telling you that the world’s population is going to keep growing and will still need to be fed, but the land available for planting is shrinking every year? Because that’s also true. Is it scary? Sure. But we’re not saying that to make money. We’re saying it because we need to find solutions, and the people out here already growing the food should be the ones who care the most.
I rein in those thoughts and smile at Dean. “Okay, let’s back up a little. What our systems do is actually really simple. It’s the same crops you grow now. But everything is grown indoors so the plants are protected and the environment is controlled. Your cattle will have fresh feed all year. You won’t have to worry about the weather. You won’t have to worry about having another company supplementing you. You won’t have to worry about storage and transportation. It will all be right in your backyard.”
He nods. “I get that. But we’re doing okay. The guys?—”
As Dean goes on about what the other ranchers are telling him, Torin’s words from the night on my grandmother’s porch play through my mind.
You could build as many farms as you want to. You can see your plans in action. Right now, they’re all just on paper. You’re not actually doing any of it. Don’t you want to see it come to life? There’s no red tape. Nothing between your amazing brain and making it all happen for real.
Dean stops talking and I force a smile and go back to attempting to convince him that his rancher friends don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. Nicely, of course.
Okay, kind of nicely.
I think I need a new job.
I’m back at my hotel an hour later, with a cheese pizza that I am going to eat alone. I’m dreading calling my boss and letting her know that I didn’t make this sale either.
I stare at my phone, chewing on my bottom lip for nearly five minutes before I finally pick it up and dial.
But it’s not Lauren’s number I punch in.
“Abigail?”
God, I love his voice. Why have I only been texting this man?
Oh yeah, because I should just be leaving him alone entirely. He needs to find a wife. And I don’t want a husband who’s a prince.
“Hi,” I say softly.
“Are you all right?” Torin’s tone is sharp. “Where are you?”
“Yes,” I say quickly, even as my stomach flips over how concerned he sounds. “I’m fine. I’m just…bummed. Had a bad day at work.”
“Where are you?” he asks again. His tone is gentler but still firm.
“Bayard, Nebraska,” I say with a little laugh. “Tiny little town out west. I’m in a Travelodge.”
“What can I do?” he asks. Then he swears. “I hate how far away you are.”
Okay, now it’s not just my stomach flipping. That almost feels like my heart flipped a little.
“Tell me why you think what you read about me and my work is so amazing,” I say before I can swallow it. “I guess I need an ego boost after talking to a couple of ranchers today who think that our indoor growing system is too expensive and we’re overreacting about climate change and I’m too pretty to know about ranching, anyway.”
I hear a little growl on his end of the line. “Did someone tell you you’re too pretty to know about ranching?”
“He called me a pretty little thing.”
“I’m going to need his name and address,” Torin says tightly.
I laugh. His protectiveness feels good. I don’t care what that says about me. “He wasn’t hitting on me.” I pause. “But his son did ask me to dinner after our meeting.”
