Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Claire triple-checked her notes Wednesday morning before Luke arrived to pick her up. Their planned outing to renegotiate the ranch’s contract with their feed supplier gave her a chance to see Luke in action.
She tried not to think about the fact she’d be in close contact with Luke all day.
All. Day.
Her pulse did a little thrum-beat that skipped into overdrive.
Nope. Couldn’t have that. This was a business meeting and nothing more.
Grimacing, she sipped her lukewarm coffee and reread her notes.
Martin’s Feed & Supply had served 4C Ranch for twenty-three years. That kind of loyalty deserved more than a spreadsheet analysis, but Luke had made it clear this meeting was about renegotiating terms, not preserving sentiment.
Had she expected more from him after his revelation the other night? Of course. But changes didn’t come easy to a man in Luke’s position, and she’d take the wins when they came.
And the fact he’d promised to work on reopening several of the programs he’d shut down showed his progress. She couldn’t be greedy.
Gravel crunched in the driveway. Claire grabbed her portfolio and headed outside before Luke’s knock risked waking Granny Mama, who’d been up half the night with indigestion.
Luke stood next to his truck door, palm on the metal as he pushed it closed.
He caught sight of her and stopped. He looked every inch the ranch manager in his pressed shirt with the ranch logo over his heart and clean jeans.
No hat today, which meant his hair caught the morning sunlight as wind stirred it across his forehead.
“Ready?” He rounded the truck and opened the door for her.
“As I’ll ever be.” Claire climbed into the passenger seat, setting her portfolio on her lap and locking her fingers around it to keep them from wandering over to where Luke’s hand rested on the console.
They drove in silence through town and out toward the industrial area where Martin’s operation sat between a lumber yard and an equipment repair shop. Paint peeled off one side of the building in long sheets, and a few missing letters in the sign gave it character.
Luke parked near the entrance. “Let me do the talking.”
Claire bit back a response about how she wasn’t planning to interrupt his carefully prepared presentation. Her molars pressed together. “Of course.”
Tom Martin met them at the door, his handshake firm despite the weariness carved into the lines around his eyes.
He was pushing sixty, weathered by decades of physical work and Montana winters that left his skin leathery and carved deep lines around his eyes and mouth.
“Luke. Good to see you. And you must be Claire Whitlock. Heard you’ve been helping folks around town. ”
“Trying to.” Claire returned his smile. “Thank you for meeting with us.”
“Always happy to talk with the Calloways.” He said the right words, but his mouth tightened as he led them to a small office covered in a fine layer of dust and the underlying scent of molasses. “Your grandfather and I did business for twenty years before he passed. Good man.”
Luke’s shoulders pulled back, spine straightening. Claire took note but kept her mouth shut.
They settled into mismatched chairs around Tom’s cluttered desk. Product catalogs competed for space with invoices and family photos. A little girl with missing front teeth grinned from a frame near the computer.
“So.” Tom folded his hands on the desk. “What can I do for you?”
Luke pulled out a folder and presented it with slow, precise movements. “I’ve been reviewing our supply contracts, and I’d like to discuss restructuring our arrangement.”
“Restructuring how?” Tom’s expression stayed open, but his fingers drummed once against the desk before going still.
“We’re currently purchasing ten tons of feed monthly.
” Luke droned on about the cost per hundred pounds that Tom charged versus what he could get from another supplier at a lower rate.
He slid a paper across the desk. “Considering they’re offering the same quality of feed, I’d like to match that rate or explore other options. ”
Color drained from Tom’s face as he studied the numbers.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he swallowed hard.
“That’s a significant cut, and I understand your side of things.
It all looks good on paper, but I have to wonder about the truth behind their claims on quality.
” Tom set the paper down, shuffled it across the desk, then picked it up again.
“I’ve been working on razor-thin margins since feed prices jumped last year.
A four-dollar-per-hundred difference might not sound like much, but on your volume it would cost me nearly five thousand a month in profit. ”
“Which is why I’m offering you the chance to match the rate instead of switching suppliers.” Luke’s tone stayed professional. Detached. “I’m trying to be fair.”
Fair. The word sounded like a curse. For a man like Tom, it was a potential death sentence to his business. Her stomach twisted.
“I appreciate that.” Tom rubbed his jaw, fingers pressing hard into the muscle there.
“But I can’t match this and stay in business.
My costs don’t allow it. Have you been to their facility to verify their claims?
I’m telling you—no one can make this quality at that price.
You might pay a little more here, but you’ll get the best. I guarantee that, even when it means cutting into my operating budget. ”
Luke shook his head and reached for the paper. “I’m confident in what they offer, which means I’m afraid we’ll need to explore other options.”
“Wait.” Tom’s hand shot out, stopping just short of touching Luke’s arm. His breathing quickened. “Can I be straight with you?”
Luke nodded, his expression unreadable.
“My daughter’s been sick.” Tom’s voice roughened, catching on the words.
“Cancer. She’s doing okay now, praise God, but the medical bills nearly buried us.
I took out a loan against the business to help with treatment costs.
If I lose your account, I lose ten percent of my revenue.
That might be enough to tip me into closing. ”
The office fell silent except for the hum of the ancient computer on Tom’s desk.
Claire silently begged Luke to reconsider.
Please, Lord. Let me see some part of the man buried underneath this hard exterior.
Show me he can change. For more reasons than she cared to count.
She glanced at Luke, waiting for him to soften and show the compassion she’d glimpsed Saturday evening on her grandmother’s porch.
Instead, Luke’s jaw set in a hard line. His hands flattened on his thighs. “I’m sorry about your daughter. Truly. But I have a responsibility to the ranch to make financially sound decisions. I can’t justify paying premium rates out of sympathy.”
Cold spread through Claire’s chest and down into her limbs. He’d reverted to the Luke from her preliminary report.
“Luke.” She pleaded with him using nothing but his name.
“Business is business, Claire.” He didn’t look at her. “Tom understands that.”
“I do.” Tom’s shoulders curled forward, hunching. “I’d hoped we could work something out. Twenty-three years of partnership should count for something.”
Luke’s heel bounced on the floor two times before he stopped the motion. “It does count. Which is why I’m offering you the chance to match competitors instead of switching without warning.”
Claire’s hands curled around her portfolio, nails digging into the leather. Every instinct screamed at her to intervene, but Luke had made it clear this was his negotiation. She was here to observe and advise, not override.
But watching Tom’s face crumble, seeing the family photos on his desk and knowing what losing this account would cost him, Claire’s breath came faster. Heat flushed her cheeks.
Luke could fire her if he wanted. She refused to keep sitting here and watching him ruin a man’s life. “What if we found a middle ground?”
Both men turned to look at her.
“Tom can’t meet your asking price without jeopardizing his business.
Luke needs to reduce costs to maintain ranch profitability.
But there might be creative solutions that would help both parties.
” She pulled out a clean sheet of paper, her hands steadying as she focused on the numbers.
“What if we restructured the payment schedule to give Tom better cash flow by paying bi-weekly instead of monthly? That would reduce his need for operating capital and potentially offset the rate reduction.”
Tom leaned forward, his posture opening and the tenseness in his face relaxing. “How much are we talking?”
Claire sketched out quick numbers and rattled them off. “And we could build in an annual review clause. If Tom’s costs decrease, the rate adjusts down. If they increase, there’s room for negotiation.”
“That might work.” Tom studied her calculations, hope brightening his features. “The bi-weekly payments would help a lot. I wouldn’t have to float costs for thirty days.”
Luke’s expression had gone carefully blank, but his nostrils flared just enough to give him away. “That’s only a two-dollar reduction. Barely worth the negotiation.”
“It’s a two-dollar reduction that preserves a twenty-three-year relationship and keeps a local business solvent.
” Claire met his eyes without flinching.
This was her calling, and Luke would not take that away from her.
“That’s worth something you’ll never see on a quarterly report but shows up in ways that matter. ”
Remember your promise last week. Remember how you said you wanted to change. Here she was, offering him the perfect opportunity, and he might very well squander it.
Luke’s hands pressed harder against his thighs, knuckles going white. “Can we have a moment?”
“Of course.” Tom stood. “I’ll grab us some coffee.”
After Tom left, Luke turned to her. “What are you doing?”