His Ranch Or Hers

“And it never entered your mind to ask if I was interested in keeping the ranch? Aren’t Eric and I the only two in line to inherit from you and Mom? I assume he’ll take over Rolling Acres. I thought this was my legacy.”

“But...but you went to college when your brother chose the military. Before his obligation was up, he saw it was a mistake. He told us he’d be returning to the ranch. At the risk of sounding old-school, Myra, ranches belong in the hands of a competent man.”

She’d heard this before, but it still irritated her. “I can’t believe you said that. And man though he is, Zeke Maxwell is about as far from being a competent rancher as I’ve ever seen. The one thing in his favor so far, he’s begun to see it himself. This morning he offered me a job managing the Flying Owl. At the time I wasn’t sure I wanted to work for him. Now I think I’ll stay and hope by spring our city boy tires of Snowy Owl Crossing’s isolation. Sorry, Dad, I’ve gotta run. Hank Watson is trucking our calves to market tomorrow, so I’ve a full day’s weaning ahead of me.”

Hearing her dad sputter as she removed the phone from her ear, Myra disconnected. Fully expecting a callback from her mother, she tossed her phone down on her nightstand and charged out of the room.

She almost bowled Zeke over as she rushed into the living room. He was bent down peering inside one of her completed dollhouses.

“Sorry I spent so much time gabbing with Dad,” she said brightly. “Grab your gear. Time’s aʼwasting. We need to get busy sorting calves.”

“You look flushed. Is everything all right?” Zeke hurried after her, pausing to pluck his coat from the rack where he’d hung it by hers the night before.

“I’m fine, just running late.” She stepped out onto the porch and pulled on her boots.

Zeke followed her out and shut the door. “Will I need the hat with earflaps again?” he asked, watching Myra set a gray cowboy hat atop her taffy-colored waves.

“Separating calves from their mothers is sweaty work. You can probably get by wearing your baseball cap. Most ranchers favor a cowboy hat.” She left the porch and was met by a cold blast of wind. “It’s gonna be chilly when we begin. You won’t want to let body heat seep out through the top of your head. In this country it’s always smart to start the day wearing a hat.”

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