The kiss Jack gave him was all the yes he needed. Then Jack brought him the ledger and a pencil and some paper. Morgan’s chin sank to his chest. He looked at the phone in his hand and the ledger open on the table in front of him.
Before he could think too much more about it, he pulled the folded sheets from the pocket at the back of the ledger and tapped in the number for Isaac McGinlay,Sun.
When a male voice answered at the other end, Morgan put on his friendliest tone and said, “Hello, Mr. McGinlay? I’m Morgan Malone, Oralee Malone’s nephew.”
“Morgan Malone?” the man asked with a trace of suspicion, sounding like he might hang the hell up because he was afraid that Morgan was going to call in the loan that Oralee had made him.
“Yes, Morgan Malone,” Morgan repeated. “I inherited the feed and grain when Oralee passed. I’ve got her ledger, and Mabel Milbourne told me I needed to call to ask about?—”
He stopped. This was the final crossroads. It was one thing to think of doing it. Another to actually do it.
Either he asked how Mr. McGinlay was going to pay for the off-the-books loan, or he asked how much sunflower seed the man needed to plant in the spring. So his little farm could keep going and he could take care of his loved ones. So folks would keep coming into Hysham for groceries and fancy coffee. So the people who lived around here would have not just a reason to spend money and a place to spend money, but money to spend.
Morgan’s eyes felt hot, and the hand gripping his phone was cold. He took a deep breath and listened to the wind and to Jack banging around at the sink. And thought about how Mister Rocket had barked earlier, and how he’d fetched himself up to Jack to be petted and adored.
About the bustle in the coffee shop and the fact that there’d still always been room for him and Jack.
How Young Tommy and Plowy McPlowface had waited at the bottom of exit 67 in the freezing cold and blowing snow just to make sure he and Jack arrived home safely.
And how Mabel had hung up on him because of the careless way he’d treated Jack?—
He put the phone down and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Then he swallowed hard and picked the phone back up. He would need to make notes in the ledger in a second. But maybe that could wait.
“Mr. McGinlay—can I call you Isaac? I’m calling to find out how much seed you’ll need in the spring.”
There was a soft, surprised sound at the other end. “Oh?”
“Yes.” Morgan cleared his throat. “I’ve got the ledger here, but Toby, you see, used strange, short codes for everything. Likepotandphoand so on. Bags means bags, I’m guessing?”
“Those are paper sacks, you know, the kind with the string on top to open them,” Isaac said, sounding more relaxed, as though settling into farm talk soothed him. “Potis potash, andphois phosphorus; those are fertilizers for confections.”
“Confections?” Morgan asked, completely lost.
“That’s the type of sunflower I grow. The kind people like to eat, and I sell both shelled and unshelled. Uh, is there a note about a manual hopper to shell the seeds? If not, I was going to order one.”
“A hopper?” Morgan glanced at Isaac’s page in the ledger, where it not-so-clearly readHop. All of this was strange to him. Back in Denver, sunflower seeds arrived in clear little packets ready to eat. “Yes, I see that note. How much is one of those?”
“A good one that’ll last a while is about four hundred.”
Morgan scanned Isaac McGinlay,Sun’s page again. At a glance, the seed itself seemed the least expensive part of the project, and the more he looked, the more expensive the whole thing got.
According to the records for the prior year, sunflower seed for planting went for $100 for fifty pounds of seed. After that, the sunflower farm would need around $5,000 for fertilizer, herbicide, and a good hopper to be able to keep going.
“If you’d like to come to the feed and grain,” Morgan said, holding himself steady to his plan, “we can place your order for the spring.”
“I think Oralee and I did $5,000 last year,” Isaac said, his voice rising in a question.
“That’s what it looks like to me as well.” Morgan paused. “This is my first time doing this, so as I understand it, you’ll bring in around that amount, and I’ll use it to order seed and fertilizer and the new hopper?”
“That’s right.” The relief in Isaac’s voice came into Morgan’s ear so strongly it was almost like Isaac was in the room, wanting to shake his hand. Or maybe hug him. “I could come in tomorrow, if the weather holds.”
“Looks like it will.” Morgan glanced at Jack, who was listening, eyebrows raised. “What time suits you?”
“How ’bout around ten?” Isaac asked. “Oralee used to have coffee and donuts going, though I expect that’s in the past.”
“Oh, no.” Morgan sat up and shook his head as though Isaac could see him. “We’ve got the new coffee machine set up, and the three old—that is, Ambrose and the boys have given it their stamp of approval. I’ll be fetching fresh donuts in the morning. That is, Jack will. My friend Jack. Mygoodfriend Jack.”
“Sounds good,” Isaac said. “Me and the missus and the baby will be in around ten. See you then.”
