“No.”
His voice sounded strange.
“Then what?”
“I need every finished animal you can give me.”
Nora stared at the kitchen wall.
“What?”
“Your cattle.”
“I know which cattle.”
“I need every finished one.”
“Why?”
“Customer feedback.”
“What feedback?”
Carl paused.
“Good.”
“That’s not specific.”
“Nora.”
“What?”
“Restaurants like the beef.”
She frowned.
“What restaurants?”
“Regional accounts.”
“Which?”
“I don't handle final distribution.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because my phone hasn’t stopped ringing.”
Nora sat.
“About my cattle?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It doesn't have to.”
“How many?”
“As many as you can finish.”
Nora looked toward the notebook.
“I don’t have many ready.”
“When?”
“Six weeks for one group.”
“I'll take them.”
“You haven't seen them.”
“I'll inspect before purchase.”
“Obviously.”
Carl laughed.
“You always this difficult?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He hung up.
Nora remained seated.
Something had changed.
She did not understand what.
Demand spread slowly at first.
One buyer.
Then two.
A meat distributor called.
Then another.
People began asking whether Tillman cattle were available.
Nora suspected marketing exaggeration.
She had no brand.
No label.
No special program.
She was not producing luxury beef.
She was finishing commercial cattle efficiently.
Then she received a call from Plains Table Foods in Wichita.
The purchasing manager, Daniel Schaefer, asked for a meeting.
Nora almost refused.
Leland told her to go.
“Why?”
“Information.”
“I have cattle to feed.”
“You also have buyers asking unusual questions.”
Nora drove to Wichita.
Daniel met her in an office overlooking a warehouse.
He was thirty-eight, energetic, and talked too quickly.
“We supply independent restaurants.”
“All right.”
“Several received beef from cattle purchased through Flint Ridge.”
“All right.”
“Feedback was strong.”
“You keep saying that.”
Daniel smiled.
“Consistent marbling.”
“Flavor.”
“Yield.”
“Chef response.”
Nora leaned back.
“You think that's because of the mash?”
“I don't know.”
“Neither do I.”
“That's why we're interested.”
He slid a sheet across the desk.
Nora looked.
Volume request.
Much larger than expected.
She read again.
“You want seventy-five head.”
“Initially.”
“I don't have seventy-five.”
“When could you?”
“Months.”
“Could you expand?”
“Not quickly.”
Daniel smiled.
“Good.”
Nora frowned.
“Good?”
“People ruin quality when they chase volume.”
“I haven't agreed.”
“I know.”
Nora looked at the sheet.
“Price?”
Daniel named a premium structure.
She stopped.
“Why?”
“We want consistency.”
“You don’t know if I can provide it.”
“Then prove you can.”
Nora looked at him.