Marlene felt her throat tighten.
Daryl continued.
"I thought you were holding onto the ranch because you couldn't accept losing him."
She looked down.
He swallowed.
"And maybe part of you was."
She nodded slowly.
"Part of me still is."
He looked toward her.
She continued.
"But that doesn't mean the plan was wrong."
Daryl nodded.
"I know that now."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he said, "I should've read the notebook before deciding you had nothing worth trying."
Marlene's eyes filled.
She looked toward the kitchen counter.
The green notebook lay beneath a stack of planting records.
She reached for it.
Then placed it between them.
"There's still a lot we don't understand."
Daryl smiled.
"Then show me."
They spent the rest of the afternoon studying Curtis's observations.
For the first time, Daryl wasn't looking for a reason to abandon the ranch.
He was trying to understand how it might survive.
The winter of 2006 brought a new kind of challenge.
Demand for cactus increased faster than Marlene expected.
Several restaurants began ordering regularly, and two small grocery distributors expressed interest in purchasing cleaned, properly handled produce. A livestock nutrition specialist also contacted her after hearing about the ranch's possible use as a drought reserve.
The interest was encouraging.
But it created pressure.
Marlene needed better storage, more dependable transportation, and clearer separation between plants intended for produce and those managed for livestock forage.
She couldn't simply harvest whatever looked green and send it to the highest bidder.
So she made another difficult decision.
She slowed expansion.
For six months, much of the money that could have gone into new acreage was used to improve handling facilities, training, equipment, and recordkeeping.
Wade Haskins heard about it.
He laughed at the feed store.
"She's finally run out of places to stick cactus."
Marlene ignored him.
But Daniel was angry.
One afternoon, he returned from town and told her what Wade had said.
She continued examining a delivery invoice.
Daniel frowned.
"Doesn't it bother you?"
Marlene looked up.
"What?"
"That he keeps talking about you like you're stupid."
She considered the question.
Then smiled faintly.
"Of course it bothers me."
Daniel stared.
She continued.
"But I can't make him stop thinking whatever he wants."
He looked frustrated.
"So you just let him laugh?"
Marlene nodded toward the invoices.
"I'd rather spend my time making sure our customers get what they paid for."
Daniel was quiet.
Then she added, "If I change my decisions every time Wade laughs, he's running the ranch without ever doing a day's work here."