Rancher Girl's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

The calf broke from the herd an hour before dark, and Rancher Girl needed her daughter to help catch it. She ran the ranch alone, and she wanted Amie to grow up knowing that hard work was not a choice you skipped. She found the girl on the porch of the two-storey ranch house, boots off, arms crossed. "I'm not going," Amie said. "It's not my fault the dumb thing ran off." Rancher Girl set down the coiled rope. Ten years old, and already sure the world owed her an easy afternoon. "That calf is scared and small," she said. "There are coyotes past the far fence. It doesn't matter whose fault it is." Amie stared at her boots. "You always find something for me to do." "Because you live here." Rancher Girl kept her voice level. "Put your boots on. I'm not asking twice." The girl went slow. She pulled her boots on with a scowl and stomped down the steps. They crossed the pasture together, past the broad backs of the cattle grazing in the low light. The herd watched them with calm eyes. Beyond the animals, the ground dipped toward a line of brush. They found the calf tangled in a fence corner, one leg caught in loose wire. It thrashed and cried. Its eyes rolled white. The wire had cut a thin red line above its hoof. Amie stopped scowling. "It's hurt." "It'll be worse if we wait," Rancher Girl said. "Hold its head. Talk soft. I'll free the leg." Amie knelt in the dirt. She wrapped her arms around the calf's neck and pressed her cheek to its rough hide. "Easy," she whispered. "Easy now." The calf stilled under her hands. Rancher Girl worked the wire loose, one twist at a time. The light was going gray. Somewhere past the fence, a coyote called, and the calf jerked. Amie held on and did not let go. "Almost," Rancher Girl said. The last strand came free. The calf scrambled up, wobbled, then stood. Amie kept one hand on its side. They walked it back slow, the girl leading, the mother behind. The calf leaned on Amie the whole way. By the time they reached the herd, the first stars showed. At the gate, Amie looked up. "Its leg is still bleeding." Rancher Girl nodded. She had won the argument, and her daughter had done the work with her own hands. That was the lesson she wanted. But the cut was deeper than she liked, and the nearest help was far. "We can't fix that with a rag," she said. "That needs a real vet, tonight." Amie's face changed. For the first time, she was worried about something other than herself. "Then let's call one." Rancher Girl reached for the phone in her pocket. There was no signal bar at all.