Chapter 46
A Rancher’s Guide to Analog Intelligence
Alex
Finn was still asleep when I left Tuesday morning, sprawled across the bed in a way that meant he was actually resting instead of just being unconscious. He’d crashed hard while I picked up lunch the day before, and it was nearly two hours before he’d finally stopped radiating tension. I wasn’t about to wake him for anything short of an emergency.
The morning air was cool as I walked toward the house with my laptop. A few guests were already out for morning rides or early hikes. Elowyn was headed to the restaurant, Lou had just arrived with Penny, and Luke was talking to some of the ranch hands near one of the barns. Maggie found me halfway to the residence and padded next to me, tongue lolling and ears alert.
Everyone had a purpose here, a role that mattered.
Elena added another layer of tension, pulling Finn apart through questions and hard truths he’d been avoiding for months. I couldn’t fix that, couldn’t make it easier; I could only give him space to do the work and be there when he needed me.
But I could focus on my company’s future. Something I could actually control, if I just figured out how.
Nolan’s office was quiet when I arrived, just the hum of his computer and the faint sound of activity through the open window. He was already at his desk, reading glasses perched on his nose while he reviewed something on his computer. He looked up when I knocked on the doorframe.
“Morning, Alex. Coffee’s fresh if you want some.”
“Thanks.” I settled at my desk and opened my laptop.
“How’s Finn doing?”
“Exhausted. Elena’s not messing around with the therapy. But he’s doing the work, which is what matters.”
Nolan nodded once and turned back to his screen.
I pulled up the Catalyst financials I’d looked at least a hundred times in the last three months, hoping something would finally reveal itself. Oliver deserved to retire with security after everything he’d helped build, but buying out his fifty percent stake meant coming up with nineteen million dollars I still didn’t have. At least not without taking on debt that could destroy everything if the market shifted.
The numbers stared back at me, unforgiving.
I clicked over to Tabitha’s partnership research folder, skimming through the proposals we’d already been exploring. Foxtail Creative’s Burbank collaboration could bring in one and a half to two and a half million annually. The indie game developer consortium, another one to two million in pooled contract work. Both were solid opportunities, the kind of strategic partnerships that would strengthen Catalyst long-term, diversify our revenue streams, make us more resilient.
But they didn’t solve the immediate problem. These partnerships, however promising, wouldn’t generate enough cash flow fast enough to finance a nineteen-million-dollar buyout. They were part of the answer, just not the whole solution.
SBA loans would bury us in interest. Leveraging real estate felt like betting my entire life on one outcome. Silent investors would want control I wasn’t willing to give up. Every option felt wrong, incomplete, like trying to force pieces that didn’t actually fit together.
Buying Oliver out alone didn’t work. Losing the company didn’t work. Both felt like losing.
I rubbed my eyes under my glasses, trying to focus. There had to be another way, something I was missing, some angle I hadn’t considered yet.
Nolan’s phone rang. I half-listened while I scrolled through projections, catching bits and pieces of his calls.
“Luke, yeah, I saw your note about the herd rotation... No, that makes sense, you’ve got better eyes on their condition than I do from the office... Go ahead with your plan, just keep me posted on how they’re settling... Perfect.”
He hung up, made a note in his planner.
Five minutes later, his phone rang again. “Elowyn, hey... Yeah, the bathroom upgrade for the two bigger tents... How far back do you think it’ll push them being open for reservation?... That’ll work, coordinate with Lou to get it updated in the system... You’ve got this.”
I kept working, fingers moving across the keyboard, but my attention had split. Luke making livestock decisions, Elowyn handling hospitality operations, Nolan coordinating but not micromanaging. Everyone operating with autonomy, trusting each other’s expertise.
“How do you do that?” I asked when he hung up.
Nolan looked up from his computer. “Do what?”
“Run a business where everyone seems to have decision-making power but you’re still clearly in charge.” I gestured vaguely at his phone. “Luke just made a call about herd rotation, Elowyn’s managing… renovations? You’re trusting them with pretty significant operational choices.”
“Because they know what they’re doing.” He leaned back in his chair. “Luke’s been working cattle longer than I have. Elowyn basically runs the hospitality side at this point. I’d be an idiot not to trust their judgment.”
