Page 60 of True North

When she returns to the kitchen, her face is sad.

“Talkin’ to the trees now, hey?” I say, opening the box to find linens wrapped around her most precious porcelain china. She pats my shoulder before diving her hands into the box to retrieve her most worldly possessions. “My son, Mother Nature is always listening. I’m simply askin’ a favor.”

“Sure, Ma.”

I don’t ask what the favor is. Hell, probably best if I don’t. It’s not like we’re churchgoing folk. Never have been. But I’m sure she believes there’s something out there bigger than just us. I hope she’s right.

Louisa’s words float back past my mind.Not moving in with you, Harry.I’m a little disappointed she won’t be here from day one. But mostly, I’m annoyed at myself for assuming what she wanted. For not even bothering to ask.

I make a mental note to correct that as soon as I have the chance.

The sound of eighteen wheels braking shatters the comfortable silence we have been toiling away in. Damn, I almost forgot the cattle are coming today. What’s a ranch without a herd?

“That’s my cue, ladies. Lou, can you give me hand in an hour?”

Louisa looks up from the floor where she sits arranging baking dishes and trays. “Course, where do you need me?”

I can’t help the smile blooming with her words.

“Yards behind the barn, say, forty minutes? Horse will be waitin’.”

“Harrison John Rawlins, you ought to give the poor girl a name. You owe her as much.” Ma’s always had a soft spot for the mare.

“Horse and I will be ready in forty,” Louisa says, standing as she dusts her hands on her jeans. I grab my hat from the hook by the front door and shove it on. With a quick dip of my brim to the best women on God’s green earth, I shoot out the door and head for the yards.

The semi pulls in and starts its reverse for the loading ramp. The dusty brakes squeal as the tail of the cattle crate hits the wooden posts precariously holding up the fallin’ down ramp. Its rails bow as the semi rolls forward a little, and the driver hits the brake.

Two decks is all it took for my herd at the allotments to be transported to the ranch. And now that they are here, I realize this number of head is nowhere near enough.

“Mornin’.” The semi driver comes up beside me as I look over the cattle milling in the crate. He leans on the side, plucking out a paper and a wad of tobacco. He rolls it as he glances at the old yards. “These old railin’s seen better days. Name’s Ned.” He extends a hand. He’s not much older than me. I shake his firm grip and turn to the yards.

“Same everywhere on this old place. Everything needs fixin’.”

He laughs. “Good thing you came along, hey?”

He slaps me on the back.

“Yeah,” I say with a chuckle and slide the rear crate gate open, pinning it back. Ned climbs up the side of the crate, opening another interior gate. My cattle—heifers, steers, and a few old cows—wobble their way down the dusty ramp. I swear the only thing still holding it up is the dirt inside it.

When the last beast is off the trailer safely, Ned files in, shutting the gate behind them. I crawl through the rail and walk through the herd, checking them over. He climbs onto the top rail of the yard. His ripped jeans and holey shirt match his tattered hat. He chews on a stalk of grass, the smoke long gone.

“Not too bad for a starter herd. But this big old place is gonna need more to earn its keep, Harry.”

Harry. Like we’re friends.

“Yeah, I’m seeing that.”

“You’ll find bigger lots of breeders over in Great Falls. Sales are every Wednesday.” He spits the stalk of grass to the ground.

“Right.” I make my way back to where he sits and lean on the closest upright post.

“You need someone to show you around the chaos, let me know. The auctioneers have favorites. But, hey, you managed to snag this place. So you should have no problem.”

“Yeah, well.”

As if it’s her cue, Louisa, Horse, and my gelding clip-clop over to where we are.

Ned pulls his hat off immediately, sitting up straighter before jumping down from the railing. “Howdy, miss.”

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