Chapter 14 - What Harrison Never Told Her
Harrison stared at Josephine across Nathaniel Price’s desk.
“What does that mean?”
Josephine sat slowly.
“It means this ranch has survived because too many people worked beyond what their wages bought.”
“Josephine—”
“Judson. Caleb. Beatrice. The water crews. Everyone.”
“I’ll pay bonuses.”
“This isn’t about bonuses.”
Price leaned back, interested.
Josephine pointed toward the contract.
“If you add one hundred ten thousand acres while still owing the bank, Ironstone needs capital, management, and people who believe they gain something by keeping it alive.”
Harrison understood.
“You want employee ownership.”
“Some.”
“How much?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“That’s convenient.”
“I had the idea thirty seconds ago.”
Price smiled.
Harrison paced.
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“What do you want?”
Josephine looked at him.
There it was.
The question beneath every other question.
She could ask for wages.
A bonus.
Permanent employment.
She could ask for nothing and remain the woman who rescued another man’s fortune.
She thought of her mother.
Of the boardinghouse.
Of the uncle who said women were poor custodians of property.
Of every kitchen where Josephine worked while somebody else owned the walls.
“I want a stake.”
Harrison did not hesitate.
“How much?”
That surprised her.
“You aren’t angry?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even ask why.”
“I know why.”
Josephine swallowed.
Price quietly looked away.
Harrison approached the desk.
“How much?”
“Ten percent.”
“Twenty.”
Josephine blinked.
“You negotiate backward.”
“You created the provision company. Found the theft. Saved the herd. Found the water contracts.”
“Harrison—”
“You want a stake? Twenty.”
“I can’t afford twenty percent.”
“I didn’t say buy it.”
“No.”
His expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because then it’s charity.”
“It isn’t.”
“It would feel like it.”
Harrison considered that.
“Then earn it.”
“How?”
“Take responsibility for the new acquisition.”
Josephine stared.
“You want me managing one hundred ten thousand acres?”
“I want you helping manage all of it.”
“I’m a cook.”
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“You arrived as a cook.”
Something shifted inside Josephine.
Price cleared his throat.
“I can structure performance shares.”
Josephine looked at him.
“Meaning?”
“A percentage earned over time based on debt reduction, profitability, and operations.”
She smiled slowly.
“That I’ll accept.”
They signed an agreement before dawn.
Harrison retained controlling ownership.
A worker profit pool would receive ten percent of annual operating profit once debts were covered.
Josephine could earn up to twenty percent ownership over five years.
The land option was formally exercised at nine fifteen in the morning.
At eleven forty, Matador attempted to transfer its county holdings.
Too late.
Nathaniel Price filed notice immediately.
August Bellweather responded with lawyers.
Many lawyers.
The dispute would take time.
But Ironstone’s claim now existed.
They returned home exhausted.
For two days, Harrison barely spoke.
Josephine assumed it was the legal pressure.
Then she found him alone in the barn.
“You’re avoiding me.”
“No.”
“You ate breakfast outside.”
“Nice weather.”
“It rained.”
He sighed.
“What?”
He looked at her.
“There is something I never told you.”
Josephine waited.
“Cordelia and I were engaged.”
That explained more than she expected.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“What happened?”
“She wanted me to sell Ironstone and move to Dallas.”
“You refused.”
“Yes.”
“She chose Dallas.”
“Yes.”
Josephine leaned against the stall.
“And now?”
“Now nothing.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
He looked frustrated.
“Because every time I try to speak to you about anything that isn’t cattle or money, somebody sets a building on fire.”
Josephine laughed before she could stop herself.
Harrison smiled.
Then became serious.
“I loved Cordelia.”
Josephine’s laughter ended.
“I thought I would marry her.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because I asked you to stay.”
Josephine looked down.
Harrison moved closer.
“I don’t want you thinking I ask every woman who rescues my ranch to do that.”
“How many have there been?”
“One.”
“That is a small sample.”
“Josephine.”
She looked up.
He kissed her.
Softly.
Briefly.
Enough that she could step away.
She did not.
When they separated, Harrison looked more nervous than he had facing armed rustlers.
Josephine stared at him.
“Well.”
“That bad?”
“I’m considering.”
He laughed.
She kissed him again.
This time longer.
From outside the barn, Judson yelled, “I AM WALKING AWAY.”
Josephine broke into helpless laughter.
Harrison called, “Judson!”
“I SAW NOTHING.”
His footsteps retreated rapidly.
Josephine rested her forehead against Harrison’s chest.
“This ranch has no privacy.”
“It has one hundred sixty thousand acres.”
“And Judson will still find us.”
Harrison smiled into her hair.
For one evening, Ironstone felt almost safe.
The next morning, a telegram arrived.
Nathaniel Price had suffered a stroke.
He was alive but unable to speak.
More troubling, his office had been broken into.
Copies of Samuel Croft’s contracts were stolen.
The originals were at Ironstone.
Josephine immediately went to Harrison’s study.
The cabinet stood open.
Empty.
Someone had already taken them.
Only five people knew where they were stored.
Harrison.
Josephine.
Judson.
Cordelia.
And Gideon.
Once again, trust became a question.
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This time, if they guessed wrong, Ironstone could lose one hundred ten thousand acres before it ever truly owned them.
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