Page 21 of Ironwood Ranch Cowboys

I study her again, this time not just assessing her capability, but recalibrating it.

She isn’t disruptive because she’s careless. She’s disruptive because she’s precise in a way that intersects with mine, which means she can find things.

Which means she can also break things. If she chooses to.

“You’ll continue documenting,” I say.

“I was going to.”

“You’ll route everything through me.”

She tilts her head. “I already know that.”

“I’m clarifying.”

“Fine.”

I shift the file, turning the page with care, re-centering the conversation where it belongs. On verification, not interpretation.

“Alright,” I say, tone even. “Let’s remove assumption.”

Her attention sharpens again.

I tap the margin once. “Quarter three operating variance. Adjusted for livestock fluctuation, excluding deferred maintenance.”

“Three-point-eight percent,” she replies without hesitation. “Three-point-nine if you factor in seasonal feed increase, though it hasn’t been fully accounted for yet.”

Correct.

I move on.

“Feed allocation discrepancy. Last month. Net impact.”

“Two-point-one percent,” she says. “It balances across the next cycle, so it doesn’t register as a loss unless you isolate the period.”

Again, correct.

She isn’t working through the numbers, she already understands them.

I pick up a pen from her desk and write a figure in the margin, rounding it deliberately, then I slide the page back toward her. “So, this percentage would be…”

“That’s wrong.”

I smile. “Oh yeah?”

“You rounded early.”

“By how much?”

“Point two,” she says. “Same as before.”

She can operate at my level, maybe even beyond my level with the speed at which her brain gets around the numbers, which means she can see the system the way I do.

Which means she can also see where it fails.

I just hope she finds it quick so I can get back to normal.

With that, I head back through the house, my mind spinning at a million miles an hour. What has she found? Could this be why we’re having issues?