Chapter 10 Digital Inventory
Dressed in a pair of impeccably tailored Sumissura designer jeans, a crisp Zimmermann linen shirt, and a chic St. Agni’s Carter recycled-twill vest, she was better suited for a gallery opening than to inventory a dusty shed. Her Moncler boots, practical yet undeniably stylish, crunched on the gravel as she pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside. What she encountered was total chaos.
Bags of grain, stacked haphazardly, leaned against each other like drunken sailors, some of their contents spilling onto the floor, creating tempting runways for rodents. Old, forgotten tools lay scattered amongst rusting equipment, molding hay and supplement blocks. It was a testament to years of neglect, a physical manifestation of her father’s ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ philosophy.
Sierra’s marketing brain, honed to dissect inefficiencies and streamline operations, saw only a glaringly obvious problem.
"Cody," she called out, her voice carrying the sharp edge of command, "go find a ranch hand. Someone who knows their way around this mess. And make it quick."
Cody, who had been idly kicking at a loose board near the doorway, looked up with a familiar air of mild annoyance. "A ranch hand? For… this?" He gestured vaguely at the organized chaos. "Can't we just move things around a bit?"
"No, we cannot," Sierra retorted, her patience already wearing thin. "I need someone who can physically help me move these heavy sacks, and I need them now. And don't tell me you can’t find anyone. You’re supposed to be helping."
Cody sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. But there's a barbecue happening over at the Miller place this afternoon. I was kind of hoping to… you know."
Sierra shot him a frosty look. "The ranch isn't going to fix itself, Cody. Go. Now."
With another theatrical sigh, Cody slouched off, his cowboy boots scuffing the ground as he disappeared towards the main house. Sierra watched him go, a familiar wave of exasperation washing over her. He was more interested in rodeos he couldn't win and parties he couldn't afford to attend than in the actual running of the ranch. It was a constant source of frustration.
Barely ten minutes later, Cody reappeared, a hulking figure trailing behind him. Luis, a weathered man with calloused hands and a wary expression, stood beside him, his gaze sweeping over Sierra’s designer clothes with an unveiled air of contempt.
When she caught him looking at her he surveyed the shed with a practiced, proprietary air.
"Found Luis," Cody announced, his voice tinged with relief. "He can help move stuff around. So, uh, I'll just… check on that fence post by the north pasture. Heard it was looking a little wobbly." He gave Sierra a quick, nervous smile and was gone before she could protest.
Sierra narrowed her eyes. Cody always had an excuse. But she pushed the thought aside. Luis was there, and that was what mattered.
"Luis, thank you for coming," she said, turning to the ranch hand. "I’m Sierra.”
“I know who you are ma’am.”
“Good. I want to reorganize this feed shed. We need to create a more efficient system for inventory management."
Luis blinked, his brow furrowed. He looked around the shed again, his gaze lingering on the jumbled sacks and dusty equipment. "System?" he echoed, his voice a low rumble. "Looks fine to me, ma'am. We know what we got and where it is. Been doing it this way for years."
Sierra’s jaw tightened. "That’s precisely the problem, Luis. 'Doing it this way' is why we're likely to be over-ordering or running out of essential supplies. I'm implementing a digital inventory system. In short, this chaos is causing the ranch to bleed funds, and we can’t afford it any longer. I need to organize this space logically, group similar items, and make everything easily accessible. We need to be able to find what we need quickly and accurately, so we can keep our inventory up-to-date."
Luis scratched his chin, his gaze shifting from Sierra’s impeccably dressed form to the chaotic shelves. "Seems like a lot of fuss, ma’am. Just grab what you need when you need it. That’s how it’s always been done."
"And that’s how we continue to waste time and money," Sierra said, her voice losing some of its polite veneer. "We need to be more precise. We’ll start by grouping all the grain together in one place, but separating them into various kinds, then the supplements, then the vaccines, and so on. I’ll need you to help me move these heavier sacks."
Luis remained rooted to the spot, an obstinate expression on his face. "Don’t see the need, ma’am. The old way works just fine. Don't need no fancy computer numbers telling us what we already know."
The familiar prickle of frustration began to rise. This was exactly the kind of resistance she’d expected, but it still stung. Her father’s stubbornness seemed to have infected every corner of this ranch.