3. Brooks
3
Brooks
Sunflower Springs, Oklahoma
N ine a.m. and I can feel the fucking sweat beading up on my nose. I’ve been out working these cattle since five this morning. The damn heat is starting to catch me now. Thank God we’re finally gettin’ close to the end of summer. No use getting excited though because we aren’t there yet.
Hell, it’s not like Oklahoma gets much of a fall in the first place. The couple of weeks we do get of fall do bring a little cooler air with them. And cooler air means getting a little later start each morning.
But it’s only the first week of September, and Oklahoma is still burning hot with these 100-degree days. So, for now, the four and five a.m. mornings are still necessary. I wipe the sweat out of my eyes and squint at the sting. I adjust my sweat-soaked shirt and get back to work.
“Hey Mason!” I yell across the pasture. “Ya about done with them?”
“Yea. We’ve just about got ‘em!” he shouts back.
Good. We’ve gotten a lot done so far today. But there is plenty more to do. We still have another 100 head of cattle to work this morning before we can move them into their last grazing pasture of the year.
I kick my mare into a trot until the pasture is in sight and then slow her down to patrol the perimeters. It won’t hurt to do one more round of checks to make sure the pasture is secure and good to go. We don’t need any cattle out, especially once it does finally turn cold.
This pasture is closer to the main house, so it doubles as both the fall and winter pasture. Once the grass dies off for the winter, we switch them over to grain and hay. Keeping them closer to the house makes easier access for feeding on the cold snaps that bring snow and ice each year.
I was born and raised on this ranch and I’m pretty sure it’s where I’ll die too, along with my two older brothers. As my brothers grew up, they both decided to stretch their legs and try new things in life. I, being the youngest, was home longer and able to get the taste of ranching and leading my own men. Once I was bitten by the ranching bug, I decided to stick around for a while.
The ranch has been in my family for generations and spans over several thousand acres, with small farmhouses peppered here and there for family members and ranch hands to live in. When I decided to stay on the ranch, I was able to move into one of the smaller ranch houses about a mile from my childhood home and become the fourth generation to work this land.
In the beginning, I was only given small jobs and a few men under me. But as Dad saw how efficient I could be at working cattle and leading a large group of ranch hands, he slowly stepped back and let me take over more and more responsibility.
The ranch became my full-time job not too long ago. Mom got sick, and Dad had to all but put his ranch work on hold suddenly. Without much warning, he had his hands full taking care of her. I take pride in knowing that my dad was able to focus on Mom so fully because he knew the ranch would be in good hands. But still, it was a little off-putting to see Dad admit that he just couldn’t do it anymore. He had never been that type of guy. So seemingly overnight, I became the foreman, and Dad became my part-time ranch hand.
Of course, this was all done out of necessity and not a well-thought-out decision to change hands. So, most of it happened unofficially. Because of that, I made it my mission to take over the ranch fully and officially. I’m not one to take handouts. And I sure don’t need my brothers coming back on me saying I got the ranch because I’m the baby of the family. No, I will do this the right way. I commit my every day to working my ass off to make sure I am physically and financially taking over officially and legally. If only I hadn’t been such a dumbass when I was younger and had actually saved up some money. Now, it is just going to take some extra time to save up the amount of cash I plan to offer my parents for the portion of the ranch I want.
I barely look at my watch before I hear the guys trotting up behind me. Breakfast and lunch aren’t optional around here. Everyone takes it seriously. You are no use on the ranch if you don’t have fuel in your body. So, I make sure all my guys take a break each day for an energizing breakfast and another for a filling lunch.
I could do without my mom always spoiling them for lunch, though. Every day at eleven, she is waiting at the main house with lunch and a place to cool down. They all appreciate it, but I don’t need my men getting soft.
I hop off my mare and lead her to the round pen to graze. Then I head toward the ranch house. As soon as I open the heavy wood doors to the house, the savory scent of pot roast hits me in the face. Mom must have warmed up last night’s leftovers for roast sandwiches today. My stomach rumbles in reply to that thought.
Sure enough, when I round the corner into the big dining room, I spot a huge platter piled high with roast sandwiches in the middle of the oversized old farm table. On one side of the platter are a couple of bags of chips, and on the other are two big jugs of sun tea. If I know my mom, and I do, that tea is extra sweet. No one around here drinks unsweet sun tea. In a matter of minutes, the big table is surrounded by a bunch of sweaty ranch hands. Sandwiches are flying off the platter, and the room is filled with loud voices and laughter.
I roll my eyes at my men, acting like they haven’t had food in weeks, but I can’t help but crack a smile when I see my mom at the head of the table, just beaming from ear to ear. This means the world to her. If she can serve others and fill their hearts and bellies, she is happy.
After another few hours working cattle, I turn my mare out to graze and head back up to the main house. I can’t help cursing under my breath with each heavy step. I hate coming in from the field early. I hate it even more when it is to help another pesky tourist. I’m never going to get this place whipped into shape if I have to stop every day for another meaningless task for another one of Mom’s guests who have nothing better to do with their life.
My mom has had a really tough year with breast cancer, and I suppose helping her each day with the guests that somehow make her happy is worth it. But that doesn’t keep it from setting me back farther and farther in my goals to take over the ranch.
When my brothers and I moved out, my parents got a wild hair and turned their big ranch house into a Bed and Breakfast. Mom said it was the perfect use for the now empty bedrooms we all left behind. I always thought it was a dumb idea. But Dad said it was a great way for my mom to still feel useful and appreciated. He said it helped her not to get lonely when he was spending long days working the land and the cattle.
I don’t even really know how people end up here. Sunflower Springs is such a tiny town, and everyone has a place of their own to stay. Yeah, it gets tourists passing through to vacation in the small-town charm and bask in the slowed-down lifestyle. But if it were up to me, they would just keep passing on through to the next town. This town is full enough as it is—no need for the extra people gawking at our everyday mundane town life.
But no matter what I think about it, tourists keep coming. Week after week, there are new guests in the house, and my mother is happy and bustling around and taking care of them. And every week, I find myself coming in from the field early and exhausted to add to my workday with bed and breakfast tasks to make sure my mother doesn’t overdo it. I grumble plenty. But I try not to let her hear me too much.
It really is nice to see her so happy. Dad even seems happier these days. I figure my sacrifice will be more than worth it in the end when I’m the happy owner of the ranch and my parents are able to focus solely on their B&B and retirement. But for today, it is more of the same old bullshit.
Today’s guests are even worse than normal. I find myself rolling my eyes as I talk to them. It takes everything I have to keep my “for fucks sake” to myself when the couple that is barely older than me starts kissing after sharing their “romantic” plans for the day. Thank God they only booked two nights, and my guest duties with them should be done until I’m needed to clean the room when they leave. The last thing I want to do is think about that right now. Hell, if I’m lucky, maybe Dad will be back in time, and I can talk him into cleaning that room.