Tucker clears his throat. "We should probably talk specifics. Sierra, you've seen some of the operation now. Had a chance to get a feel for how things work here. Questions?"
I have about a thousand questions, but I start with the most important one. "What's your current financial situation? I saw Rhett's initial numbers, but I'd like to understand the full picture. Outstanding debts, monthly operating costs, income streams, that kind of thing."
Rhett opens his laptop again, pulling up a spreadsheet. "We're carrying about seventy thousand in debt. Thirty to the bank for a loan we took out two years ago when the tractor broke down and we had to repair it. Twenty to various suppliers—feed, equipment parts, veterinary services. The rest is smaller amounts scattered across different creditors."
"Monthly operating costs?"
"Around twelve thousand. That covers feed, utilities, basic supplies, loan payments, property taxes. We've cut back on everything we can cut. No staff besides the six of us, minimal equipment maintenance, stretching every dollar until it screams."
I do the mental math. "And monthly income?"
"Depends on the season. We sell calves twice a year, which brings in about forty thousand each time if the market's good. That's our main revenue stream. We've got some secondary income from selling hay, occasionally boarding horses for people in town, and odd jobs. Averages out to maybe six, seven thousand a month."
The numbers paint a grim picture. They're barely breaking even, and that's when nothing goes wrong. One major equipment failure, one bad market season, one unexpected crisis, and they're underwater.
"The two hundred thousand I'm proposing," I say slowly. "How would you allocate it?"
"Seventy thousand pays off the existing debts," Rhett says. "That frees up cash flow since we're not making loan and creditor payments anymore. Another forty thousand for critical repairs—fencing, irrigation, barn roof, tractor maintenance. That leaves ninety thousand for operational buffer and strategic improvements." He says, pretty much repeating what Wade had told me earlier.
"Strategic improvements meaning?"
"Better bulls for breeding," Boone says. "Our current genetics are good but not great. We could improve the herd quality significantly with an investment there."
"Marketing," Colt suggests. "Most ranches our size have given up trying to compete on commodity prices. They're branding their beef, selling directly to restaurants or farmers markets, building a story people want to buy."
"We've talked about that," Tucker says. "But it requires startup capital we haven't had. Setting up the processing relationships, building a brand, marketing materials. It all costs money upfront."
"But it could potentially increase your profit margins significantly," I say, my brain already working through the possibilities. "Commodity beef prices are volatile and trending down. But local, sustainable, family-ranch beef? People pay premium for that."
"Exactly." Rhett leans forward. "We've got a great story here. Six friends running a multigenerational ranch, maintaining traditional practices, treating our animals well. That's marketable. We're just not marketing it."
Wade makes a skeptical sound. "We're ranchers, not influencers."
"You don't have to be an influencer to have a brand," I counter. "You just need to communicate what makes you different. What makes Promise Ranch worth paying more for."
"And you know how to do that?" He sounds challenging.
"I know how to research it. How to analyze markets and identify opportunities. That's literally what my degree is in." I meet his eyes. "I don't know cattle. But I know business. Together, those two things might actually work."
Silence falls around the table. Emma has abandoned her coloring book and is watching us with wide, interested eyes.
"We should vote," Tucker finally says. "We've all had a chance to meet Sierra, see her commitment level, hear the proposal. Time to make a decision."
My heart kicks into a higher gear. This is it. The moment where they either give me a chance or send me back to Seattle with my tail between my legs.
"Standard voting rules," Tucker continues. "Majority decides. All in favor of accepting Sierra Vaughn's investment proposal asoutlined. Two hundred thousand dollars for fifteen percent stake in ranch operations and profits, raise your hand."
Rhett's hand goes up immediately. Then Tucker's. Mason's. Boone's after a moment of consideration. Colt hesitates, looks at Wade, then raises his hand too.
Five votes.
Everyone turns to look at Wade, who sits with his arms crossed, jaw tight. The silence stretches. I hold my breath.
Then, slowly, Wade's hand rises.
"Six in favor," Tucker says, and I hear relief in his voice. "Motion carries unanimously."
I stare at Wade, shocked. He's glaring at the table like it personally offended him, but his hand is still raised.
