Clara hesitated.
“A lot.”
“That is not a number.”
“I haven't measured full output.”
“Contract?”
Clara smiled.
“Free unlimited pickup.”
Susan looked up.
“What?”
Clara showed her the receipt.
Susan read.
Then laughed.
“Who wrote this?”
“Owner.”
“He thought you were taking trash.”
“Yes.”
Susan handed it back.
“Keep that.”
“I plan to.”
She toured two trial farms.
Talked to farmers without Clara present.
Good.
Clara wanted honesty.
Three weeks passed.
No call.
Clara convinced herself the cooperative had rejected the idea.
She returned to ordinary farm work.
Milk checks.
Repairs.
Winter.
Processing husks at night.
Then Susan called.
“We want a purchase agreement.”
Clara stopped breathing.
“How much?”
Susan gave an annual tonnage.
Clara laughed.
Not because funny.
Because impossible.
“I can't make that.”
“I know.”
“Then why offer?”
“Because we don't need full volume immediately.”
Susan explained.
Ramp schedule.
Quarterly targets.
Quality standards.
Delivery windows.
Price.
Clara wrote so quickly her hand hurt.
The first-year order alone exceeded anything she imagined.
Not millions.
Not fantasy.
Enough to transform the Bennett operation if she could fulfill it.
Enough to justify real equipment.
Enough to hire.
Enough to make Howard Bell stop saying “experimental.”
Maybe.
“How long?”
Susan said:
“Three years with annual review.”
Clara leaned against the barn wall.
“What happens if raw material disappears?”
“That's your responsibility.”
Of course.
“Can I think?”
“You should.”
“How long?”
“Two weeks.”
Clara did not need two weeks.
She used twelve days anyway.
Attorney.
Accountant.
Howard.
Sam.
Helen.
Margaret.
Everyone found problems.
Good.
Clara revised assumptions.
Transport cost higher than expected.
Storage.
Insurance.
Equipment maintenance.
Labor.
Packaging.
Fire risk.
Dust mitigation.
Still worked.
On day thirteen, she signed.
The contract arrived in the mail.
Clara opened it at the kitchen table.
Her mother watched.
“You’re shaking.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Clara signed.
Margaret cried.
Clara pretended not to see.
Then came the raw material problem.
Clara needed far more husks.
Driftless County Feed & Grain could probably supply them.
But Earl still believed Clara was using them mainly on her own farm.
She had never lied.
He never asked.
Now commercial trucks would reveal everything.
Clara considered approaching him first.
Sam advised no.
“Why?”
“Because he signed unlimited pickup.”
“That doesn’t mean I should surprise him.”