“There it is.”
“What?”
“You didn't care when the husks had no value to you.”
“No.”
“You only care because they have value to me.”
Earl stared.
Then laughed reluctantly.
“You really are Daniel's daughter.”
“So everybody keeps saying.”
The new agreement solved one problem.
Created ten more.
Clara needed production capacity.
The cooperative advanced partial equipment financing against the contract.
Howard financed another portion.
Clara contributed nearly all available cash.
Terrifying.
She purchased a used industrial shredder.
Dust-control unit.
Hydraulic baler.
Conveyors.
Moisture-monitoring equipment.
Nothing new.
Everything functional.
Installation transformed half the Bennett machine shed.
The first day of commercial production was chaos.
Conveyor jam.
Sensor failed.
Twine snapped.
Nate loaded the wrong material.
Clara yelled.
Sam yelled louder.
Margaret arrived with sandwiches and threatened everyone until they ate.
By evening, thirty-eight finished bales sat stacked.
Target had been sixty.
Clara stared.
“Terrible.”
Sam wiped dust from his face.
“Yesterday you made twelve.”
“Different target.”
“Go home.”
“I am home.”
“Then go inside.”
She stayed another two hours.
Within a month, they reached sixty.
Then eighty.
Clara hired two workers.
Then four.
One was Tom Grady’s daughter, Megan.
Earl found that hilarious.
“You're stealing employees now.”
“She applied.”
“My mill trained her.”
“She worked in your office.”
“Exactly.”
Megan improved inventory records almost immediately.
Clara stopped losing track of shipments.
By spring, Bennett Field Bedding had twelve regular farm customers besides the cooperative orders.
Not huge.
Growing.
Clara remained cautious.
She remembered how quickly one customer could disappear.
So she diversified.
Not recklessly.
Horse barns.
Calf operations.
Small livestock.
Different bale sizes.
Still same core product.
The farm changed.
Cattle remained.
Clara never intended to become only a manufacturer.
Morning milking happened before production meetings.
Fields still required planting.
Fences still broke.
Cows still calved at inconvenient hours.
The bedding company did not replace farming.
It grew from it.
That mattered to Clara.
One afternoon, Earl visited Bennett Farm for the first time since expansion.
He looked around the production shed.
Conveyor.
Baler.
Stacks.
Employees.
Forklift.
He shook his head.
“I gave you this.”
Clara laughed.
“You gave me husks.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
She pointed toward the machinery.
“You did not give me this.”
Then workers.
“Or them.”
Then shipping paperwork.
“Or customers.”
Earl smiled.
“Still sensitive.”
“You still take credit.”
“Business tradition.”
They walked outside.
A truck from Driftless County Feed & Grain arrived with clean husks.
Dedicated trailer.
Much better raw material than before.
Clara checked moisture.
Good.
Earl watched.
“We’re making money on this now.”
“I know.”
“You saved us disposal too.”