Respect
Five years ago…
They had buried Wesley Jansen three days after the accident. It was another five before Laine finally buckled down and drove back out to Flint Creek. There was a ranch to run, animals to care for and livestock to be raised. Men who needed to earn a living.
The men. They intimidated her, not that she was willing to admit that to anyone. Would they follow her, respect her, accept her as the new owner? She knew they respected her brother but would that carry over to her? Or would they humor her just because she was Wes’s little sister and a familiar face? If they didn’t believe she could take over and run Flint Creek this would never work, she needed them as much as they needed the work.
She didn’t even know if she could do this. It wasn’t a matter of being surrounded by Wesley’s things, his memories and his life. That, she’d learn to cope with and find comfort in and if she couldn’t she’d learn how to ignore it while there was work to be done. But the thought of cattle…of being the one responsible for the ranch’s productivity, that scared her. Balancing the books was one thing. Cutting the payroll checks was easy, running expense reports and filing fiscal reports, quarterly taxes, paperwork…Laine knew how to do those things in her sleep.
Laine knew next to nothing about the actual task of breeding, raising and selling livestock. Sure, she knew Wes’s schedule. She knew the names of contacts he used. She even spoke with the ones where money needed to change hands. But she didn’t know cattle. She knew horses. The horse barn, the office in the tack room-those places where her domain on the Flint Creek property. Occasionally her brother’s large kitchen up at the main house. The house was another headache altogether.
But she would figure it all out, make things work, run just as smoothly as they had when Wes had been alive. There was no room for negotiations here. The man had entrusted her with his dreams, his hopes, his legacy. She loved and respected him enough to see this through, no matter what it was going to cost her.
Laine Anderson//Flint Creek//372