The Heifers an Old Man Fed for Free

The second load

We were back at the yard in Gillette by a quarter after three.

My back hurt and my eyes hurt from staring into the wind all day, and I would have given a good deal to lie down.

But there was still a little light, and there were 43 heifers in that pen.

Merle had fed them again at noon. He was sitting in his pickup by the stack with the engine running for the heat, eating a sandwich off wax paper, and when we pulled in he got out and picked up his sorting stick without a word.

We loaded fifteen more and pulled out at twenty to four. I will not pretend that trip was smart.

We drove the last two hours of it in the dark and unloaded at the lease corral by the light of the pickup’s headlights, with Sigrid holding a flashlight at the gate to count them off.

She counted to thirty that night, carrying on from the first load. I heard her voice in the dark behind the trailer.

“Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty.” Then she said, “That’s enough of that. We’re not doing another one in the dark.”

We slept in the pickup cab at the lease, with the engine idling and the heater cycling on and off.

Sigrid slept sitting up with her head on my shoulder and her tally book in her lap.

Around four I woke and could not get back to sleep, so I started the drive back south.