“What’s the occasion? Why the roast?” he asked his mom.
“You, silly,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “It’s not every day you come for dinner.”
Watching his mom and sister he could’ve easily fooled himself that nothing has changed. But the laughter he grew up with wasn’t as loud and the creases around his mother’s eyes told him that the last two years had taken their toll on her too. He hated knowing some of those wrinkles were because of him.
“Ben, you made it!” His dad entered the room with a huge smile on his face.
Lance Copeland looked like every rancher from his generation should: tall, muscled but slightly paunchy around the middle from enjoying years of his wife’s good cooking.
As soon as Ben stood up he was enveloped into a hug. He swayed at the force of his dad slapping his back.
“It’s so good to see you, son. You’ve been away too long.”
Ben caught his dad’s eye and was surprised to see tears gathering along the lashes. He had to clear his throat before responding.
“It’s good to be home. I’ve miss it. I’ve missed you.”
The morning was cool and crisp. Dew dampened the intensity of the prairie aroma and leant a fresh, clean scent to the air. Moisture clung to his horse Thunder’s forelegs as they cantered through the pasture, leaving a trail through the grass where the dew was knocked from the blades..
It’d been a year since Ben had been on a horse. He’d spent his whole life in a saddle until then. It was moments like these that made him wonder why he’d stayed away so long.
He rode through the herd of cows milling around the feed grounds with their new calves at foot. He kept his eyes open for any mis-mothered or sick calves and for any cows that were having trouble calving. The black Angus cows eyed him and Thunder wearily as they waited to be fed. A hired man, one Ben had yet to meet, finished rolling out the last bale of hay to the herd and headed off back towards the yards. He waved at Ben as he rolled past in the flatbed truck.
Ben stopped to watch the cows feeding for a while. They were terrific mothers and often kept their babies on the far side of them, away from Ben and his horse. It made it difficult to see the little guys, but Ben knew that any calves pestering their mothers for a drink were healthy. He was looking for ones that weren’t. He nudged Thunder lightly and they moved off to check the edges of the feed ground and the area beyond. Mother cows liked to hide their calves in tall grass and against sagebrush while they went to eat their breakfast.
He was close to the fence when he heard a cow’s distress call. Over the small rise and in a hollow backing onto a poplar stand was a cow in labor. Ben skirted around the back of the cow to take a better look at her. She was standing with her head down, her sides quivering. A calf’s hoof and tail poked out of her. The poor thing was coming out backwards. He knew even without trying that he’d be unable to chase her back to the corral and the cattle squeeze; she was too far gone.
Ben lightly jumped down from his saddle, careful to keep Thunder between himself and the distressed cow. Animals in pain were unpredictable and he had no desire to be flattened by an angry cow on his first day back on the ranch.
He dropped his reins on the ground, knowing Thunder wouldn’t walk away. Ben had trained him to stand when he was still a colt. He opened the buckle on his saddlebag and pulled out his calf pullers. He took a deep breath and keeping his eyes fixed on the cow, he slowly made his way towards her. Ben could hear Thunder behind him tearing grass up with his teeth; he wouldn’t go far.
The cow let out another bellow as Ben drew near, but she was too preoccupied to pay him much attention. She swished her tail when he grasped the wet leg of the calf but didn’t move besides to strain against the burden inside her and bellow again.
Ben gave an experimental tug on the leg he had a hold of as she pushed, but the calf didn’t budge. The contraction stopped and the cow let out a low moan. He worked quickly and slipped the loop of the calf puller over the exposed hoof before slipping his arm up inside the cow, feeling around for the other back leg. The cow’s next contraction nearly broke his arm but he managed to find the other leg. It was tucked up against its body. The cow bellowed again and swished her tail at Ben as he maneuvered the leg backwards and out into daylight. He put the other loop of the calf puller on the foot. He didn’t have to wait long for the next contraction.
The cow’s tail swatted him in the face, covering him with God knew what as he pulled and she pushed. He rubbed his face on his shoulder as best he could but he could still taste things he had no desire to taste. The smell of birth was all around him and was soaking into his pores. He was sure he’d be able to smell this experience for days.
The muscles in Ben’s arms strained, the cow gave one final bellow and the calf popped out. Ben quickly swiped the birth bag from its face, unhooked its feet from the pullers and stepped out of the cow’s way.
She sniffed the calf with her nose and nudged it.
He held his breath and waited.
The cow licked the calf’s face and let out a gentle moo.
“Come on, little guy,” Ben urged softly.
The calf raised its head. A surge of relief rushed through Ben’s body. Thank God. He walked back to Thunder and put the calf puller back into the saddlebag. He dug around until he found a rag all scrunched up in the bottom. He poured some water on it from the canteen he had tied to the saddle horn and washed off the birth as best he could. He’d have to have a shower as soon as he got home.
He stuffed the rag back in the saddle bag, climbed back onto Thunder and watched the cow and her calf for a few moments before turning to check the rest of the pasture. He rode to the top of a rise and surveyed the valley below him. He leaned forward, resting his right forearm on the saddle horn. Horse sweat, sagebrush and last year’s dried prairie grass assaulted his senses. They epitomized home to him. God, he loved this place. He’d been away far too long but since Rachel he couldn’t cope with the memories this piece of land held.
As kids he and his two sisters roamed these hills every spare moment they had. If he listened carefully he was sure he could still hear the echoes of their laughter.
His dad pulled his horse up alongside Thunder.
“You’ve been away too long, son,” Lance said.
Their saddles creaked as they shifted to look at each other.
“I know. I’m home now though. And this time, I ain’t leavin’.” Benjamin turned once again to the view before him and took a deep breath. “I’ve missed it.”
“Glad to hear it, ’bout time you came back where you belong. We need you around here. It’s time you started thinking of taking over from me and your mom.”
“You can’t be serious?” Ben asked in surprise. “I thought you just wanted me to come back and help you out for a year or two. What’s going on, Dad?”
The solemn look on his father’s face hit him like a fist in his gut. He’d seen that look two times before. Once when Rachel died and the other time wasn’t much better.
“What is it?” He pushed the dread back down his throat, swallowing it back down to his stomach.
His dad once again shifted in his saddle, as though Ben’s gaze made him uncomfortable.
“We want you home, is all. And we need the help. This place is getting run-down, as you can see. I can’t keep it up like I used to. We need your help and it’s time for your mom and me to enjoy what’s left of our lives. We all know how short life can be.”
Benjamin couldn’t understand why his father was avoiding his eye.