Wait a minute. “Brunswick?” Eleanor frowned. “I met a man today named Carter Brunswick.”
“Why, my dear, that is Jacob’s son. Hisunmarriedson.” Marvella raised a brow.
Oh, for heaven’s sake!
The Judge took a sip of water. “Carter owns the local flour mill and his father farms those twenty thousand acres I spoke of. Jacob plants it mostly in wheat, which Carter grinds to flour.” The Judge pointed his fork in Eleanor’s direction. “Why, that very dinner roll you have on your plate is made with Brunswick flour.”
“But twenty thousand acres owned by one man?” Father’s eyes widened. “That’s excessive.”
Marvella tipped her head. “Well ... he co-owns some of it with a partner.”
As if that made a difference. How could these intelligent people not understand? Eleanor shook her head. “It doesn’t seem to me that any one man should own that much land. The government could own it as a public farm and lease it out to be managed. That way it would be accessible to all. They could still arrange roads through the farm so that the public could make their way to the forest preserves and national parks. I just don’t see the need for one man to ownso much.” And it wasn’t just because she’d had a run-in with the rude Mr. Carter Brunswick earlier.
“Well, we will simply have to open your eyes to the truth while you are here.” Marvella lifted a buttered half of roll to her lips and smiled.
The truth? Did she really believe she was in the right and they were in the wrong? How could she?
The Judge cleared his throat again as Father set his fork down. “My dear, there are families in the West who have tended the land since it was wild. They have worked generation after generation to clear it and cultivate it to grow this nation’s food. The government can’t be depended on for such things. There is far too much already for the government to manage.”
Father opened his mouth as though to say something, but the Judge went on.
“And without the farms this nation would suffer. Montana produces large numbers of cattle for beef, lambs for the meal you’re enjoying this evening, and pigs for the bacon and ham you will enjoy at breakfast. Animals require large acreage of grass to feed upon, not to mention the hay that must be planted and cultivated and baled for winter, when the snows are too deep for grazing. That is why farmers and ranchers need a great deal of land.”
Eleanor glanced at her father. Why was he so silent? She had heard him argue the same topic many times with great passion and vigor. Did he not wish to offend his hosts? She pushed ahead anyway. “But what happens when we start to run out of land? If only a small portion is set aside for parks, and the rest is ranched and farmed, we run the risk of citizens and future generations inheriting a sparser,less beautiful America than when it was first settled. Right, Father?”
He started a bit, as though he had been lost in his thoughts. “My daughter is correct ... If Mr. Brunswick owns all the land surrounding the area where we would like to see a national park preserved for the people of this great country and others as well, how would they gain access to it? There must be some compromises. Twenty thousand acres is too much.”
Eleanor nodded. Exactly so. The land must be preserved. But the look on the Judge’s face made her wonder. He wasn’t angry or upset. Simply ... contemplative.
“And how would you decide, my dear, how much land is needed to grow enough wheat for your dinner roll?” Marvella snatched up another dinner roll and held it up. She looked at each person at her table. “Without wheat there would be no dinner rolls at all, and what a pity that would be.” She sniffed the roll and put it on her plate. “Mr. Jefferies’s rolls are some of the lightest and most delicious in all of Montana—perhaps I could dare to say the entirety of America.”
Eleanor smiled in spite of herself. Marvella was a force to be reckoned with even if she was on the wrong side of the argument. Mr. Grinnell hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said their hostess was unafraid to argue her point of view.
“As I said earlier, vast private ownership is unnecessary. It is not only an issue that impacts us now, but our future as well. Vast holdings that are private are passed from generation to generation. Not only can the public not access them, but it gives a small group of individuals an excessiveamount of control over land that could be preserved with all its beauty and natural resources for years to come. If it was given over to the government, it could be kept in public trust and leased out, along with the general population still maintaining access to the public lands. Or, as we discussed earlier, much smaller parcels of land given away by the government until none are left for that purpose.” Father’s emphatic words accompanied the dip in his brow.
The Judge studied Father. Eleanor could see why Mr. Grinnell extolled the older man’s virtues as a judge. His expression was impenetrable. “You’ve never owned a large piece of land, have you, Mr. Briggs?”
“No. I haven’t. I once owned a place much the size of this one in New York City. We had gardens and a stable just as you do. It was sufficient for all our needs.” Father jerked his knife through his slab of lamb and shoved a chunk of meat in his mouth.
Eleanor studied him. Was that a sheen of sweat on his brow? But why?
Judge Ashbury nodded. “And for us it more than meets our needs. But we also are blessed with the money tobuyall of our produce, wheat, and meat. From people who own land. Did you grow your own food on your property in New York?”
Father did something she’d never seen him do. He sputtered! Could it be he’d never heard or considered what the Judge was saying?
Father lay his fork on his plate before speaking. “Well, no. We didn’t have room for anything other than my wife’s flowers. We were so seldom there after my wife died that Eleanor and I agreed to sell it and rent lodging as we hadneed. We ownnoproperty currently. And we manage just fine.”
“Yes, but because of your lifestyle, you have the ability to purchase food wherever you go.” Marvella smiled at her guests. “That means that those who farm do so not only to feed their families, but ours as well. I agree that land preservation is a necessity, but I think there should be careful consideration given to where and how much land is conserved and the impact of that conservation on those who work by the sweat of their brow to help provide food for us.”
The room fell silent. Knives and forks clinked against the fine china as they ate their meal. Eleanor’s shoulders were beginning to hurt. Her throat felt dry no matter how many sips of water she took. She had never considered that aspect of conservation before. Rationally she knew that food had to be grown somewhere. But never had she truly thought about the people who grew wheat and corn and vegetables. Eleanor chewed the corner of her lip. The conversation was moving so quickly, it was almost impossible to remember what her own argument was.
Or what she actually believed.
Eleanor glanced around the table. Only Marvella seemed to not mind the tension that had descended over them. She was smiling down at her little puffball of a dog, who was dancing for his fair share of meat.
Finally, the Judge wiped his mouth and looked over at Father. “I’m sure you find traveling the country with no permanent address a perfect way of life. But most people aren’t of a mind to move about all the time. Many came to this country because land ownership in their home countries wasn’t a possibility.”
Eleanor plucked a dinner roll from the basket in front of her and sliced it open. She spread a pad of butter over it, her thoughts jumbled. She’d never considered how other countries controlled the freedoms of their citizens to have a spot of their own. But America was so vast and wild. Couldn’t the Ashburys see the need to protect the precious resources of their country without allowing people to purchase absurd amounts of land?
