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“I said, let it go.” I leveled her with a look. “We don’t dump the cattle just to be done with it.”
For a second, she looked like she wanted to argue, but she held it back. Barely.
“Fine. Just get it done,” she snapped at Elena.
“Please,” Hunt grunted.
“Excuse me?” Fiona was ready to kill the man.
“Please…it’s a word used when being polite. I’m sure people say please in Texas, don’t they, Amos?” Hunt wasn’t done being a jackass, and I couldn’t hold it against him. Fiona was being a bitch. She was always pushy; it wasn’t working for her here, not with this crowd.
“They sure do.” Amos grinned.
Before I could put my foot in it, Elena simply said, “It’ll be done. We’ll sell the prime stock to our regular buyers—the ones who know what they’re getting and are willing to pay for it.”
Fiona raised a brow. “Prime stock?”
Amos groaned. “Fuckin’ hell, Duke, does she know anythin’? Or are you just bringing her here to look good in a suit?”
“Amos,” I warned.
Fiona seemed to be on the verge of exploding. This wasn’t the type of meeting she was accustomed to. Usually, I was the top predator in the room, where my word held authority, and so hers did as well. But out here, in ranch country, fancy talk didn’t mean a damn thing if you couldn’t back it up. She could read a ledger, sure, but she wouldn’t know a steer from a bull if it was standing right in front of her.
Elena didn’t seem to be affected by the drama and kept on with her even tone. “Prime stock are our top bloodlines, strong genetics, healthy weight, good frame, no structural flaws. These cattle were bred to work and last, not just stand around looking pretty in some rich man’s pasture. Buyers like Kincaid Farms, the Jorgensen Ranch, King’s, and a few others know what they’re looking at, and they’ll pay what they’re worth.”
Hunt nodded, backing her up. “That’s where the real money is. Buyers who care about quality, not just numbers.”
Fiona crossed her arms. “And the rest?”
Elena rolled her shoulders like this was tedious. “We’ll run the lower-end stock through auction. Send ‘em to Fort Collins or maybe Brush, depending on market prices. We cull the weaker ones, offload what isn’t worth holding onto.”
Fiona glanced at me, clearly irritated that I wasn’t stepping in. I just shrugged. Elena knew what she was talking about. And from the way Fiona’s mouth pressed into a thin line, she knew it, too.
“And the horses?” Fiona kept her tone high-end bitch.
I sighed, and Fiona gave me a look that saidno pussy for you,and I was ready to say,thank you, I’ve had enough.
Nash would fucking hate Fiona. Is that why I was with her? Because she was everything that wasn’t Wilder Ranch?
Elena’s expression didn’t change. “What about the horses?”
“How soon can they be sold?”
“Depends on the horse,” she replied emotionlessly.
“What does that mean?” Fiona gritted her teeth and sounded like a bloody fool for being arrogant when it was clear she didn’t know shit from Shinola.
“Do you want me to go through the pedigree of the horses?” Elena asked, her fingers on her belt as she straightened. “’Cause that could take some time.”
“She don’t need all that,” Hunt remarked.
“I doubt she’ll understand anything either,” Amos stated.
“Enough.” I raised a hand. “This ain’t a pissing contest.”
Hunt clapped his hand on his thigh in frustration. “No shit?—”
“Hunt,” I cut him off.