Convincing the Rancher by Claire McEwen Page A

from all this wind. “Well, I suppose it’s possible I read the map wrong. Why don’t you take a look at it with me? It’s in my car.”
    They walked in troubled silence back across the road and wrestled the doors open. Slaid sat in the passenger seat and Tess pulled her hat off and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “I don’t know how you live with this wind.”
    Slaid didn’t answer, just reached for the folded map on her dashboard.
    Tess sensed the distress radiating off him and figured she’d steer clear of any more small talk. She fished in her bag for her file of documents and found the page she’d been looking at previously. She handed the directions to Slaid. “Look, it says mile marker twenty-three.” She pointed ahead of them, where a small white sign had been placed close to the ground, the number twenty-three clearly visible. “So that’s it, right?”
    Slaid was quiet, looking at the map before folding it carefully and setting it back on the dashboard. He handed Tess the directions. He didn’t look at her, just kept his eyes on the landscape in front of them. “That’s my land,” he said again, his voice heavy.
    “Well, if you own it, then the company has made a mistake. I’ll give them a call and get this cleared up.”
    “No, I don’t own it,” he said. “It belongs to the Bureau of Land Management. My family has leased it for years. Since I was a little kid and my dad wanted to expand our business.”
    “So it’s not your land.”
    The look he shot her was full of angst. “It’s land we’ve held the rights to. It’s land we’ve been promised we can count on for our business.”
    “Well, windmills and cattle can coexist.” Tess tried to sound encouraging. “It doesn’t mean your business is ruined.”
    “What do you know about that, Tess?” He turned to her then and his expression was hard, his eyes piercing. “You come out here from the city with your files and your computer and you want to tell me what my business needs? Well, I’ll tell you what it needs. Consistent access to good pasture.”
    “Which I’m sure you can work out.”
    “Really? And are you speaking from your vast knowledge of raising cattle? And constructing windmills?”
    “There’s no need to be rude.” Her knuckles were white on the file. What she’d give to just shove him and his misdirected anger right out the door of her Jeep.
    He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Your project is a threat to my livelihood. A threat to my family’s business—our heritage. A heritage we created with hard work, good ranching practices and sticking up for ourselves when someone tries to push us around.”
    She’d make one more attempt at rationalization, and then she really would kick him out of this car. “I think you’re seeing things in black-and-white, Slaid. It can work. It works all over Texas. It works at Altamont Pass just a few hours west of here. There are hundreds of cows grazing perfectly happily under those windmills.”
    “You make it seem so simple, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    She bristled all over but remained calm. “You are making this too personal, Slaid. The world is changing and we all have to adjust or get left behind. It’s basic economics. It’s Business 101.”
    “Okay, so here are some economics for you. If they let me keep my lease, they’ll still kick my cattle off while they’re building the windmills. Which means I have to bring them all back to my ranch, and buy extra feed because I won’t have enough pasture. And since we’re in a massive drought and I’m already buying extra hay and water, the expense could quite possibly destroy my ranch. That’s Business 101, Tess. Now, I’ve got to get going. I have a lawyer to call.”
    He opened the door and got out, letting the fierce wind slam it behind him. He was reflected in her rearview mirror as he stalked back to his truck, jerked open the door and got in. His engine revved and he