March passed with little useful rainfall.
April brought heat and wind.
By May, stock tanks across the region were shrinking, and many ranchers were hauling water to their remaining animals. The cost of hay increased as producers searched farther from home for usable supplies. Trucks carrying cattle became common along the county roads.
Marlene continued working.
The cactus remained green.
Some of the youngest plantings struggled, and she reduced harvest pressure in vulnerable sections.
But the mature plants held their moisture far longer than surrounding pasture vegetation.
The ranch wasn't untouched by drought.
It was simply better suited to enduring it.
That distinction became increasingly visible.
By June, the Caldwell property looked green from the county road while the neighboring ranches had turned brown.
Travelers began stopping to take photographs.
Some thought Marlene must have discovered an enormous underground water source.
Others assumed she was irrigating the property with a secret well.
Several claimed the cactus had been treated with chemicals that made it unnaturally green.
Marlene found the rumors almost funny.
For six years, people had called the ranch worthless.
Now they were searching for an explanation that didn't require admitting the plants were doing what cactus was naturally adapted to do.
She answered questions patiently when people asked in good faith.
She explained the water-saving management, the crop's adaptations, and the years of work required to establish the fields.
But she also warned visitors not to imagine that the ranch had unlimited water or feed.
Green plants didn't mean the drought wasn't dangerous.
It meant the land had been managed for a different kind of survival.
In July, Travis Pike called Marlene after sunset.
His voice sounded exhausted.
"Marlene?"
She was sitting at the kitchen table.
"Yes?"
"I need advice."
She set down her pen.
"What's wrong?"
He hesitated.
"My pasture's finished."
Marlene looked toward the window.
The sky was still bright with heat.
Travis continued.
"I've sold most of the herd. I kept twenty-eight cows because I thought the rain might come."
She swallowed.
"How are they?"
"Thin."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he asked, "Could cactus help?"
Marlene looked toward her notebook.
She thought about the years when Travis had watched Wade and Roy laugh at her.
Then she remembered that he had apologized.
And that he'd been the first of the three to ask a genuine question about the plants.
She took a slow breath.
"It might help as part of an emergency feeding plan. But we need to know what else they're receiving, their condition, and how much water you have."