Page 23 of More Than Anything

Avery droveout one of the longest county roads he thought he’d ever seen. It seemed to go on forever, but he finally came to the driveway with the mailbox that looked like a green and yellow tractor. Turning in, he was greeted by a large farmhouse painted pale yellow, a stand of huge sunflowers waving in the side yard. A car was parked out front and when his truck neared the house, a woman opened the door and stepped out. She waved as he parked.

“You Marjorie?” he called to her.

“Nope. I’m her sister, Bess. She had to go to town to get some papers signed, but she told me you were coming and asked me to help you when you got here. I guess the first order of business is to get the trailer hooked up to your truck there,” she said and pointed toward the barn.

An almost-new, bright red livestock trailer sat there, a little dusty but otherwise in perfect condition. Avery thought he’d choke. It was almost as nice as a brand new one, and a lot cheaper. Even with the size of the trust fund, his bank account would empty fast if he wasn’t careful, so he’d look for bargains wherever he could find them, and this definitely qualified. It took him about ten minutes to hook it up and then they headed out into the pasture on foot to find the cattle. In a couple of minutes, they were joined by a black and white dog with odd, blue eyes who seemed to anticipate their every move. “What’s with the dog?” Avery asked.

“Oh, Skipper? He’s a herding dog. You wouldn’t need a dog, would you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I might. How much?”

“Oh, you can have him. We don’t need him. He runs the cattle, so we won’t have any use for him. He was Daddy’s dog, and now that he’s gone, the damn fool little shit worries the hell out of us,” she said, glaring at the dog.

Avery didn’t have to think about it. “Sure! I’ll take him. Does he really herd the cattle?”

“Just watch him when we get there. He’s a Border Collie. They were bred to do this work.”

They topped the hill they’d been climbing and Avery gasped. There, spread out before them, were forty cows, all grazing and swishing their tails. Avery couldn’t remember ever seeing such a beautiful sight. “Guess we should start rounding them up,” Bess said, pointing to the right. “You go around that way and I’ll go around this way.” She looked back at the dog, who was standing stock still. “Skipper!” His ears perked up. “Herd up, Skipper. Herd up!”

Before Avery could blink, the dog ran around and down one side of the pasture, out past the last cow, and then started back. As he nipped at the feet of the cow, she turned and started away from him, straight for the front end of the pasture. He did the same with every cow on the fringe until they were all headed that way. Avery came in from one side and Bess the other, and they both kept driving the cattle toward the gate. They moved slowly but steadily toward the open gate and Skipper kept after them until, one by one, they’d moved into the smaller enclosure near the barn and the trailer. Bess closed the gate after they’d all made it through. “Wow. That’s impressive,” Avery wheezed, having followed the cattle all that way.

“Thanks,” Bess answered, gasping for breath. “Skipper’s pretty handy.”

“I’ll say. Guess we’d better get them loaded up.” He had ten livestock halters he’d brought with him, and they managed to get them on ten of the heifers and lead them through the second gate to the trailer, then load them up and close the trailer up. Bess held the gate while Avery drove through with the first load, then closed it and hopped up into his truck, bringing Skipper along with them.

It took most of the day, but they got all forty of them moved, then took the bull by himself for the last trip. With the trailer finally unhitched, Avery drove Bess back to the farmhouse. “Thanks for everything. Oh, here’s your money,” he said, handing her the envelope.

“Thanks, son. I’m so glad they’ve got homes now.” She climbed down out of the truck cab and shut the door.

The dog let out a little whine. “Sure you don’t want him anymore?” Avery asked, feeling a little sorry for Skipper.

“Nah. You’ll get some good out of him. And you’ve got a place for him to run. He’ll be happy with you,” she said, a sad smile on her face. “Daddy would’ve loved to know he had a good home.”

“He’s got one with me. Thanks, Ms.Bess. Please tell Ms.Marjorie I said thanks too.”

“You’re welcome, son. Drive safe.” She slapped the side of the truck and Avery drove away.

As Avery pulled out of the driveway, Skipper whined and stared out the window. “Gonna miss home, huh, buddy?” Avery asked him and reached over to scratch behind the dog’s ear. In just a minute or two, he was driving along with Skipper’s chin resting on his thigh, his free hand stroking the dog’s head. He made a mental note to call Marjorie and ask her who her dad’s vet had been. It would be nice to take Skipper to a vet clinic where he was already known.

He got home in time to shower and fix a little something for dinner. At least the microwave still worked! When he’d cleaned up what little mess he’d created and taken out the trash, he realized he was worn out. He made one last trip out to feed the cows, Skipper in tow, and then made his way back to the house and upstairs to the bedroom. The bed looked inviting, and he made sure to grab an old quilt and make Skipper a bed on the floor?he’d pick up a real dog bed the next time he went to the big discount store over in Texarkana. He was propped up in bed and finishing an article on the new prospects for baseball commissioner when his phone rang, another local number he didn’t recognize.Please, God, don’t let it be Danette, he thought, knowing that someone might very well give her his number. “Hello?”

There was silence for a couple of seconds and a tenuous female voice said, “Avery?”

He closed his eyes and threw his head back, banging it on the top edge of the headboard. “Owww! What the hell do you want?”

“I, I, I just wanted to say thank you for taking me to the hospital,” Lydia said in almost a whisper.

“No thanks necessary. I would’ve done it for anyone,” he answered, his voice intentionally flat.

“Oh. Well, I really appreciated it. I would’ve come and told you in person, but you’ve got those signs up everywhere.”

“Yeah. Glad you could read. Otherwise, you’d be in jail right now,” he said, his voice hard.

There was silence for another few seconds before she said, “But you need to know that nothing’s changed. That’s my farm, and I want it back.”

Avery sighed. Good god, she just didn’t know when to give up! “It’s not your farm, Lydia. It never will be. Why don’t you just let it go? Go buy another piece of property.”

“That’s not the point, Avery, and you know it.” She stopped, then said, “You’re going to get paperwork in the mail. We’re contesting the sale.”

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