For his part, Cullen keeps his cool by working himself into exhaustion every day.

And it starts by taking a chance to level with Branson.

I'm not well, he confesses one night, out by the barn. I haven't been well for a very long time. I will be of no assistance when our guests arrive, and I need to stay out of their way, and if you have ever had any affection for me you will help me work myself into the ground every day. Give me tasks, don't ask questions, so I can fall into bed every night too tired to hold my head up.

Branson folds his arms, turning toward the far field.

After a long moment, he points toward it. Beyond -- they're selling. We can run more stock, but we'll have to put in the fence to do it. And we can get a bargain because it's not fenced. Are you sure?

I am, Cullen says, relief washing over him.

Then we're land barons, Bran says, and claps him on the shoulder.

They're a week into it when their first guest shows up.