Chapter Thirty-Four
Kaylee and Rhett get the calves to the far side of their ranch so we can push them to my ranch together.
When they’re ready, Cash and I saddle up Luna and Blue.
We ride through land I’ve never seen and find the gate on their fence line.
It’s just after dawn and we’re right on time. There’s no room for niceties.
“We have to keep them moving,” Kaylee says, a little frantic. “We don’t want ’em turning back to their mamas.”
“Stay on that side,” Rhett calls to me. “We’ll push them along the line of oak brush.”
I ride Blue on the side of the herd as a swing rider, keeping the calves in line.
Blue acts like he was born to drive cattle – he pays attention when they get out of line and stays calm.
Cash and Kaylee are the point riders in the front, checking for where we’re going because the country is rough – steep hills covered in rock, oak brush and junipers.
Rhett is at the back as the drag rider, pushing the calves forward.
I look behind me every now and then. Cash and Kaylee work together comfortably and talk to each other as they ride. I was put on the side because it’s a relatively easier job and I’m the least experienced. The calves call for their mamas as they trudge along. It’s a terrible wailing cry.
It takes an hour to get back to the ranch, slow going because of the reluctant calves. When we push them into the field, they spread out and sniff around the burnt grass. Kaylee and I get fresh hay while Cash and Rhett repair a stretch of fence.
“The fire mixed with poop is going to be magical,” Kaylee says. “Just wait till next spring. You’re going to have bright-green fields.”
“If it rains enough, that is,” I say, doubt and frustration clouding any optimism.
“Well, why don’t you water it?” she asks. “As old as this ranch is, you’ve probably got senior water rights.”
“We don’t have any water rights.” I throw some hay to a group of calves. “Some say our ranch is cursed. Have you ever heard the stories?”
“I’ve heard bits and pieces, but I never believed it. You know how small-town gossip goes,” she says, brushing hay off her jeans. “Mom always said, ‘Only believe half of what you hear,’ but I think that’s being generous.”
“I like your hat,” I say, setting my pitchfork against the fence. “Is the feather from an owl?”
She pulls her hat off and turns it round. “Yeah, my mom gave it to me. It’s a lot better than the hat I had on with the rhinestones, huh?”
“A lot.” I suddenly feel very guilty for not being nicer to her. “Can I see it?”
“Sure,” she says, a bit surprised. “It’s a great horned owl feather. Feel it.”
The owl feather is silky and weightless between my fingers. “Cash told me about your mom.” My voice wavers. “I’m really sorry.”
She pushes her pitchfork into the hard ground.
“I know it’s not even close to the same as losing your mom, but losing my grandpa has been really hard. I’m not sure…” My eyes well with hot tears. “I’m…”
She puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot recently,” she says. “It’s OK to cry.”
“I really am sorry about your mom,” I say. “I know people telling you they’re sorry isn’t what you need, but I do feel for you.”
“I’m sorry about your grandpa too.” She smiles slowly, her own eyes filling up.
“Thanks,” I say. I consider reaching out for a hug, but think better of it and grab my pitchfork.
Kaylee grabs hers too. “You know, the fact that you don’t have water rights doesn’t make sense.”
“What happened here?” Cash jests as he and Rhett come to our side.
Kaylee and I wipe away our tears and smile at each other, a bit of weight coming off our shoulders.
“We were talking about Grandpa, and I got weepy,” I say, realizing I haven’t truly processed his death with anyone.
“I was sorry to hear about your grandpa. How’s your mama doing?” Rhett asks, blocking his eyes from the sun.
“Uh, she’s pretty good,” I say. “I mean … she’s OK. I meant to ask the other day how you knew her.”
He chuckles merrily. “We knew each other back in the day. Went to high school together. Haven’t seen her for … well, it feels like forever. The last time was probably when she broke up an argument between your grandpa and me a few years back when a couple of our cows tore down some of his fence.”
He hoists himself on to his horse. “We’ll come and check on the calves every few days, but let us know if you need anything. We can be here at a moment’s notice. Oh, and can I get your mama’s number? Figure we all ought to have each other’s contacts, since we’re neighbours.”
Rhett tells me his number and I forward Mom’s contact. Kaylee and I exchange numbers too.