Seven dollars? Honey, you just bought yourself ninety graves!
She looked toward the railing.
The old rancher was standing there.
He saw her and smiled.
"Morning."
"Morning."
He glanced at her jacket.
"Same one?"
She laughed.
"Same one."
"Thought you'd have bought yourself something fancy by now."
"Why? This one still works."
He chuckled.
Then he gestured toward a seat near the front.
"Saved you a place."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Trying to influence my bidding?"
"No, ma'am."
He tipped his hat.
"Just making sure the smartest person in the barn has a good view."
She laughed.
"Careful. People might think you've gone soft."
"Let them."
They walked into the auction together.
Several cattlemen greeted her.
Some asked about the farm.
Others wanted to know how the new training program was progressing.
A few mentioned animals they had purchased or management changes they had made after attending her educational events.
The young woman answered politely.
Then the auctioneer stepped onto the platform.
The sale began.
Groups of healthy calves moved through the ring.
Bids rose and fell.
The familiar rhythm of the auction filled the barn.
Then, late in the morning, a small group of underconditioned calves entered.
There were twelve.
They looked tired.
Not nearly as ill as the original herd had been, but clearly in need of evaluation and careful management.
The auctioneer explained their documented condition and the veterinary information available.
A few bidders showed interest.
Others hesitated.
The young woman leaned forward.
She studied the animals carefully.
Then she opened her notebook.
The old rancher glanced at her.
"Thinking about it?"
"Maybe."
"Good animals?"
"Maybe."
He smiled.
"There's that word again."
She looked at him.
"That's the first honest word anybody should use when they don't know enough."
The rancher laughed quietly.
The bidding began.
A livestock producer raised his hand.
Another responded.
The price climbed.
The young woman considered the veterinary information, available space, projected costs, and the responsibilities involved.
Then she raised her hand.
The auctioneer acknowledged her bid.
The old rancher watched.
For a brief moment, the room seemed to travel backward through time.
But the atmosphere was different.
Nobody laughed.
Nobody mocked her.
Nobody questioned whether she belonged.
The bidding continued.
Another producer offered more.
The young woman calculated quickly.
Then she lowered her hand.
The old rancher looked surprised.
"Not bidding again?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Price doesn't fit the budget."
He grinned.
"Three years ago, you would have bought them."
"Three years ago, I didn't understand my limits well enough."