“Move over.” Brenda slid to the center of the pickup seat and prodded the younger of the two men to shift a couple inches toward the passenger window to give her hips a little more room.
“Anything to keep you from complaining about the weather for the next hour,” Josh said with a grin. He parroted her voice: “I’m cold! Can we go home?”
Brenda elbowed him hard in the ribs. “I’d stop that if I were you.” She smiled at her husband.
“You’re asking for it now, Josh,” Merle smiled good-naturedly as he watched them. His grizzled face was illuminated by the faint light from the dashboard. He backed the old pickup away from the house and turned the steering wheel. The front tires crunched the gravel as the wheels turned. The rear tires spun on the frozen ground and the truck jumped forward. “Still a bit slick out.”
The headlight beams lit the frozen road. The snow from the afternoon squall clung to the dormant prairie grass lining its edges. The sun had set almost five hours ago and the late-night winter chill of the High Plains in February leaked through the old truck’s doors. The vehicle moved slowly down the one lane driveway toward the main road.
“Did somebody bring the calving kit?” Brenda asked the men as they approached the road.
“Never took it out of the truck from the last trip,” Merle said. “I made sure the puller was in the back too.” He leaned forward and looked across the cab. “Josh, do we have enough gloves?”
Josh stamped his boots on the floor trying to get his feet warm. “I refilled the supplies this morning, a few more gloves and another bottle of antibiotics.”
“How many cows did you expect to calf tonight?”
“I saw four that looked to be ready today,” Josh said; matter-of-factly.
“Could be four, could be ten,” muttered Merle. “That bull got in with the cows in early June. He was there for how long? Twenty-four hours?”
“The bull didn’t waste any time, did he?” Brenda said. She laughed at her own joke.
Josh smiled at her. “He’s up to seventeen or eighteen calves by now.”
Merle bristled. “You two think it’s funny? These calves are coming a month early. This isn’t the best weather for newborns.”
“I know, Dad,” Josh agreed. “Not much we can do but laugh about it now.”
Merle turned the truck onto the main road and drove south, picking up speed on the graveled road. The engine temperature gauge on the dashboard slowly began to move to the right and the heater brought the inside of the truck to a more comfortable level. Their shoulders, hunched against the cold, began to relax as they drove toward the pasture.
Twelve miles down the road they pulled off and stopped at a barbed wire gate, the entry into pasture number seven. It was a small pasture of only about six hundred acres, primarily used during the calving season. Merle watched Josh and Brenda climb out of the passenger door and work together to open the gate. They waited while he pulled the truck through the opening and closed the gate behind it. Both quickly climbed into the truck.
“Good heavens, it’s cold out!” Brenda slid onto the seat. “What’s the wind chill tonight?”
“TV gal said it’s two-below with the wind chill,” Merle said. He chuckled as he watched Josh and Brenda breathe warm air into their gloved hands and rub them together after their brief excursion outside.
“Let’s go find ‘em,” Josh prodded. “The faster we do it, the faster we can get back to a warm house.” Merle switched the truck into four-wheel drive and began rolling forward across the pasture grass. The truck bumped over the uneven ground, bouncing the three passengers hard and giving the seat springs a workout.
“Where did you last see them?” Merle’s voice bounced in time with the truck’s suspension.
“Brenda and I were here about noon, during the snow squall,” said Josh. “The herd was near the old Wolfe homestead.”
The only light for miles was the truck’s headlights as it slowly made its way across the prairie landscape. Overhead, the night sky was filled with millions of tiny lights as the Milky Way, in all its glory, spread across the clear, moonless sky. Brenda’s eyes were wide as she looked at the sky through the windshield. “No northern lights tonight,” she said. “Bummer.”
Merle stopped near the remnants of the old homestead. Only the rock chimney still stood against the unforgiving winds. He reached under his seat and pulled out a spotlight. Rolling his window down and shining the light into the night, he hoped to see the light reflected in the eyes of a herd of black Angus cows. Tonight, only two pairs of yellow eyes looked back toward the truck as he scanned the landscape.
“Coyotes,” Merle muttered. “Looks like they’re feeding on something over there. We better go take a look.” The coyotes disappeared into the night when the truck turned toward them. The trio got out to search in the high grass with flashlights.
“Over here.” Brenda’s voice was muffled as she covered her exposed face with her gloved hand. Josh and Merle walked over to where she pointed her light.
“A rooster pheasant,” Josh pronounced. “You can tell it by the colors.” He kicked at the feathers and a few remains of the mutilated bird. “The coyotes caught it as it nested for the night.”
“At least it’s not a calf,” Merle growled. “We should keep moving,”
They climbed back into the truck and continued into the darkness of the large pasture. The truck slipped and slid as it climbed a large hill. From the top, the pasture descended toward a small grove of trees. Short and tough trees with deep roots to withstand the winds that blew unrestricted for miles across the grasslands.
Merle stopped the truck near a windmill with a watering tank and turned the engine off. Rolling the windows down, he let the cold wind blow through the cab as they listened for sounds of the cows. The engine of the truck pinged and clicked as it cooled. Brenda zipped her coat up around her neck and pulled her scarf tighter against the chill.
Josh listened intently. He heard a singular bawl from a cow in the distance. “I think they’re to our right and a couple hundred yards away, Dad.”
“You think they bedded down in Wolfe Ravine?” Merle squinted his eyes at the darkness.
“They could bed down in grass and get out of the wind,” Josh said, “but I think the calving cows may go up into the canyon to get a little privacy from the herd.”
Wolfe Ravine was a large scar on the rolling landscape, running for almost a mile through the pasture. In the rainy season, it drained the grasslands. The rest of the year it was dry. During the winter, the cattle would sometimes go into the canyon to get away from the cold wind or blowing snow.
As they approached the lower end of the canyon in the truck, they began to see bovine eyes reflecting the truck’s lights. “Here they are.” Merle smiled. He stopped about seventy-five yards from the herd. Brenda handed Josh the spotlight as he rolled down his window. He panned the light across the cows, seeing a few with calves at their sides. Some cows were lying down, most were standing.
“How many calves do you count?” Brenda whispered.
“I’m seeing seven from here,” Josh said. “That’s half of what should be there and doesn’t include the four we expect tonight.”
“Grab a flashlight. Let’s take a walk.” Merle opened his door and stepped out. “We’re not going to get a good count any other way.” They grabbed flashlights and walked slowly towards the herd of two hundred cows.
“Take it real slow,” Merle cautioned. “No fast moves. Don’t spook them. Talk softly and keep ‘em calm.” They walked slowly up to the herd and talked to the cows as they approached.
“Good evening ladies, we’re just checking up on you, making sure you’re staying warm,” Josh said quietly as he angled toward the right edge of the herd and scanned the cows with his flashlight.
“Move over a little for me, sweetheart.” Brenda said as she squeezed into the middle of the herd. She gently leaned on a cow to move it a couple steps so she could pass by. “I’m just checking for new babies.”
“Josh, I’ve got five calves over here,” Merle spoke up. He was at the south end of the herd.
“I’ve counted nine so far,” said Josh.
“I’ve got three over here.” Brenda smiled as she looked at the calves. “That’s seventeen healthy calves, three more than we counted at noon.”
“Let’s finish counting and circle around them and head back to the truck. I’m thinking there should be one more.” Josh said as he started around the herd.
In a few minutes they met back at the truck and climbed inside. Merle started the engine and turned on the heater so they could warm up. “You think there should be one more?” Brenda looked at Josh.
“Yeah,” Josh said quietly, “I think we need to check the ravine, just to be sure.”
“I figured you’d say that,” said Merle. “If we’re going to get back to the house before midnight, we better get going. Shouldn’t take but fifteen minutes to run up there and back. I’ll grab the calving kit. Just in case.”
“One more minute with the heater,” Brenda said. “My toes are just starting to warm up.” She had her boots up against the hot air exhaust of the heater.
“You stepped into something, daughter-in-law.” Merle chuckled as he said it. “Will you please move your feet? I don’t want my truck smelling like cow dung for the next three months!”
“Like you would notice the smell in this old truck!” Brenda teased him as she moved her boots.
In a few minutes, they climbed out of the truck and faced the cold wind. Clutching flashlights, they walked into the mouth of the dark ravine. It was about forty yards wide at the low end. Spreading out, they played their flashlights in large sweeping motions from side to side.
After a hundred yards of moving slowly forward, the canyon drifted to the left and disappeared into the darkness. They walked on, searching for any signs of another cow or calf. At the half mile point, it narrowed to about twenty feet across with much steeper and higher walls. Boulders and trees were scattered along the bottom of the narrow cut. They scanned their flashlights to the front and sides, quietly moving forward.
A rock clattered off to their right. Josh was first to pan his flashlight toward the noise. The beam landed on a dark mass of black hair.
“Here we go,” Josh whispered. They carefully walked over to the cow lying on her side. She was moving her legs back and forth and her eyes were wide.
“The old girl’s in distress.” Merle squatted beside her and patted her large belly. “It’ll be alright girl, we’re here to help.”
Brenda walked slowly up to the cow and kneeled by the animal’s head. She calmly put her hands on the cow’s neck and soothingly spoke into her ear. “You and your little one will be fine. Rest easy while Josh checks on your baby.”
Josh and Merle, at the business end, dropped their winter gloves and pulled on elbow length plastic ones. Merle calmly looked at the cow. “I’m guessing the calf’s breach, not dead. She’s still pushing.”
“Let me check,” Josh said. “Grab her tail and let me get in there.” He worked his hand slowly inside the cow. “I can feel one hoof. The calf’s breach, the feet are coming first.”
“Do you think we need to run back to the truck and grab the puller?” Merle held onto the cow’s tail.
“Give me a minute. I want to see if I can make a couple adjustments in the calf’s position and maybe get it out.” Josh reached inside again, this time going several inches past the first hoof. “There it is! I can feel the second leg. It’s twisted up somehow.” He reached to grab the second hoof and as he did the cow lifted its head, bellowed and kicked its legs. One hoof narrowly missed his head.
“Haul back on her tail, Dad. She can’t kick hard with her tail up.”
“I taught you that, Son.” Merle gripped the cows tail and pulled on it again.
“Easy Momma,” Brenda whispered into the cow’s ear. The animal quieted. Brenda nodded at Josh.
Josh pushed and twisted on the calf’s stuck foot. “Got it,” he said through tightly clenched teeth. He held the slippery hooves of the calf just outside the cow. Sitting down on the ground and bracing himself with both feet, he pulled hard.
“Come on Momma, give us a push. Don’t make Josh do all the work.” Merle massaged the cows distended belly with one hand. The cow pushed again. Josh pulled hard. The calf slid into the cold night.
Merle watched as Josh cleared the calf’s mouth and nose and made sure it was breathing as the mother rested. After a couple minutes, the cow stood. She began to lick the calf dry as it tried several times to stand upright. After the fourth try, the calf succeeded.
They watched the familiar scene for a few more minutes, then walked back to the truck. Tired, but pleased with a healthy birth, they climbed in and Merle started the engine.
Josh sniffed at his clothing. “I need a shower.”
“Yes, you do, Honey.” Brenda smiled at him and gave him a cautious hug. “Good work. I’m proud of you.”
“I recognized the tag in the cow’s ear. That animal’s purebred bloodline goes back more than twenty years. Your grandpa matched the first purebred Angus animals for the ranch.” Merle said. He was beaming.
Josh grinned at his father. “That’s a pretty cool legacy, Dad. Twenty generations of purebred animals on the ranch.”
“It’s your ranch now, Son.” Merle smiled. “Papers are all signed.”
They drove along quietly for a few miles. Merle cleared his throat and looked across the cab at his son and daughter-in-law. “What about the two of you?”
“What about us?” They both looked at him.
Merle grinned. “I was just thinking about the next generation.”
The truck drove on, laughter slowly fading as the vehicle headed home.