Pulled seven dollars from her pocket.
The clerk looked at her.
“Farm account in your father’s name?”
“Yes.”
“You’re authorized?”
She pulled out the folded authorization her father had signed months earlier so she could buy feed and small livestock equipment.
The clerk read.
“Livestock purchases included.”
“Yes.”
“You sure your father meant ninety animals?”
The girl looked at the pen.
“Probably not.”
The clerk laughed despite himself.
“Give me seven dollars.”
She did.
He printed the transfer receipt.
She signed.
The dealer walked over while she folded it.
“You know those calves can cost you a fortune even if they’re free.”
“They weren’t free.”
“Seven dollars.”
“Exactly.”
“You think that makes them cheap?”
She looked at him.
“No.”
That surprised him.
She tucked the receipt into the front pocket of her overalls.
“I think buying them was cheap.”
“Keeping them alive might not be.”
The dealer smiled.
“There’s the first smart thing you’ve said.”
Then he walked toward the trailer.
A dented metal feed pan sat near his boot.
He kicked it aside.
It slid through mud and struck the lower rail.
Several calves jumped.
The teenage farmer’s face tightened.
“Don’t do that.”
He looked back.
“What?”
“Kick things into the pen.”
He laughed.
“They’re yours now.”
“Exactly.”
She walked past him and picked up the pan.
The dealer slapped the side of the livestock trailer with one hand.
The calves crowded away.
He looked at the girl.
“You’ll be digging holes before Friday.”
She placed the pan upright.
“Then I’ll dig them.”
The answer wiped some of the amusement from his face.
She was not pretending she could save them all.
He had expected pride.
What he heard was responsibility.
The girl reached for the trailer latch.
“Open it.”
“You don’t have a truck here.”
“My neighbor is coming.”
“Your neighbor know he’s hauling ninety coughing calves?”
“He knows now.”
The dealer chuckled.
“Poor man.”
The girl pulled out her phone.
Before she could call, someone shouted from the far side of the yard.
“Wait!”
People turned.
A white county pickup had stopped near the gate.
A middle-aged veterinarian climbed out carrying a hard plastic medical case and a handheld livestock scanner.
He moved quickly.
Not running.
Close.
The dealer frowned.
“What now?”
The veterinarian entered through the side gate.