The cattle were eating.
Pete watched for almost a minute.
“They like it.”
“Yes.”
“Smell weird.”
“So do you.”
He ignored that.
“They gaining?”
Nora looked at him.
“Maybe.”
“Nora.”
“What?”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Pete frowned.
“You being secretive?”
“You laughed.”
“That was then.”
“Then keep laughing.”
He smiled.
“Fair.”
Before leaving, Pete asked:
“You checking protein?”
“Yes.”
“Minerals?”
“Yes.”
“Dry matter?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“You know what you’re doing.”
Nora shrugged.
“I’m trying.”
That was the first conversation that felt different.
Not respect.
Curiosity.
Curiosity arrived before respect.
By the end of the first month, Nora had enough data to make a real comparison.
She sat at the kitchen table after midnight.
The farmhouse was silent.
A single lamp lit the notebook.
Conventional group.
Feed cost.
Average daily gain.
Health events.
Waste.
Mash-fed group.
Same categories.
Nora entered the final numbers.
Then stopped.
She checked the calculator.
Again.
Then manually.
Then with a second calculator because distrust was free.
The reduction in feed expense for the test group was enormous.
Not total farm expense.
Feed expense.
Sixty-three percent lower than the ration she had previously used for that phase.
Nora stared.
“That can’t be right.”
She recalculated.
Transportation.
Included.
Minerals.
Included.
Supplemental hay.
Included.
Equipment depreciation estimate.
Included.
Labor estimate.
Included.
Still dramatic.
She leaned back.
For the first time in months, she imagined the farm surviving without another operating loan.
That thought frightened her.
Hope had become dangerous after Matthew died.
Hope encouraged plans.
Plans gave life opportunities to disappoint you.
Nora closed the notebook.
Went to bed.
Slept badly.
The next morning she called Leland.
“Sixty-three.”
“What?”
“Percent.”
Silence.
“Nora.”
“I know.”
“What exactly are you calculating?”
She explained.
Leland asked questions.
Many questions.
Then said:
“Don't tell anybody that number yet.”
“Why?”
“Because everybody will hear ‘feed costs down sixty-three percent’ and think you discovered free cattle.”
“I didn't.”
“I know.”
“They won't.”
He paused.
“And because one month isn't enough.”
Nora sighed.
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“That's why you called.”
She hated when he was right.
January became February.
The system developed problems.
Of course it did.
The first major issue happened during a freezing week.
A pipe clogged.
Nora discovered it at five in the morning when the pump made a noise like metal trying to swallow a rock.
She shut everything down.
Opened the line.
Nothing.
Outside temperature: nine degrees.