Free Love in Romance Arkansas by Jim Northum Page A

question why we didn’t cooperate, and I’ve had no answer. Maybe you can work out something. It’s a shame the bloodlines can’t be matched—the best with the best to push the breed to a new level.”
     
    The flight to Calgary gave her time to think about the delicate situation facing her. She reread the passages in her grandmother’s journal several times to be sure she knew what it really said. How am I going to approach this? If I mess up, there is more at stake here than a few cows. Guess I’ll play it by ear and see what happens.
    Her pickup was waiting at the car rental service and her room was ready so she settled in for the night. I need to set my watch for the time change. The meeting is set for ten AM. No sense in getting off to a bad start by being late. She chose to wear her normal work attire, western shirt, jeans, riding boots and her cowboy hat plus a heavy coat, to the meeting.
    The ranch house and barn were at the head of a beautiful little valley surrounded by rolling, grass-covered hills. The setting was perfect though this ranch had a different look from hers back in Arkansas. Age was apparent. Fences weren’t tight and buildings had the look of beginning decline. However, the cattle were magnificent even to her relatively untrained eye.
    This is a wonderful setting. We could make this into a beautiful ranch. Something to keep in the back of my mind. A strange thought occurred to her— why did I say we instead of me? But you know, that isn’t a bad thought at all.
    The meeting was cordial enough until she brought up the reason for her journey. Mr. Williams launched into a long rant about the superiority of his cattle vs. hers and more than a little badmouthing of her grandfather. Wow, the old chap gets steamed up pretty quickly, but I can see some of his point. Best just let him express himself and then try to get back to business. Her lawyer training and experience allowed her to sit quietly until the old fellow ran out of things to say.
    “Mr. Williams, I’ve read my grandmother’s journals, so I know the reason for the feud between you and my grandfather. That happened many years ago. Sir, all the parties except you have died. Can’t we put all this behind us and move ahead? This is a chance for the best of the best Angus bloodlines to merge, to the betterment of the breed.”
    Another long tirade directed solely at her grandfather erupted from the old man. Boy, this all happened over fifty years ago and he is talking about it as if it was yesterday or maybe this morning. Sit tight and let him ramble on. No telling what will happen when I tell him my next bit of news! Finally the old man finished with a blistering denunciation and a flat statement, “I don’t want to hear that name mentioned in this house again. If you do, you better have a head start toward the door, because I’m going to throw you out on your butt.”
    OK, here goes . “Sir, I’ve been reluctant to tell you this. My mother was your daughter, and I’m your granddaughter. I knew none of this until I began to read my grandmother’s journals. My grandmother and grandfather raised her as their daughter. Did you know this? I can understand your sense of loss and anger toward them. I didn’t even know anything about my family until I got a letter saying I was the sole heir to a ranch in Arkansas. Since then, I’ve pieced together some of the family history. Your daughter gave birth to me in California, and she was the only family I knew. As far as I can tell, my grandparents never knew I existed. My mother died about three years ago. I don’t know my father.”
    “I told you not to mention that SOB again in this house. Who do you think you are to come in here and try to sell yourself as my granddaughter? Do you city slickers think I’m so dumb as to accept this ration of BS you are peddling? Who put you up this, some slick lawyer trying to get his hands on my ranch because I have no one to which I can to leave it?