Kivi trudged through the mud carrying two pails filled to the brim with aromatic silage. She stacked them in the Gator. They were the last two to cart out to the back 40.
“Hup” she shouted and 3 large Australian Shepherds jumped into the passenger side; two on the floor, one on the seat.

“Let’s go kids, we have work to do” tongues lolled and my eyes watched. “Yeah, I know, but at least the rain stopped” Sure, it stopped but after 3 days of rain and drizzle it was like walking on ice. At least it wasn’t cold. Winter had broken and the rain-fed the fields and flowers.
She drove out of the compound and down the dirt track that went back to the paddock where the cattle waited, noisily, for breakfast. No doubt they were unhappy at being down in the paddock but fat hooves killed new shoots.
After she parked, she climbed up to stand on the door ledge for a quick headcount, before she hopped down and started to dump the feed into the troughs. There was only 25 head in the pen. The bull was still up in the barn, living the cush life while the ladies slogged. The pasture that sat behind the paddock was about 50 acres of meadow and small copses of trees dotted it along the meandering stream that watered the herd when they lived there.
In the “BFN” there were another 200 cows, but they were old hands at birth and watched closely by herself and her daughter. She really needed to hire a foreman. She sniffed at the memory of her old foreman, Jack. She would miss him every day.
She hopped back in the gator and drove the fence. This was her wind down for her busy morning and as the little green machine bumped along the rutted trail she sipped her tippy cup of coffee and mused about life.

An hour or so later she found herself in the Kitchen with clean clothes, a full belly, and a cup of coffee. Cattle handled she looked at the planner that held her life. She was looking forward to riding out to check the cows in BFN.
“Mom! You about ready?” Noodle asked. At 13 she was rail thin and had Kiwi’s lips and widow’s peak with her estranged father’s brown eyes and brunette hair. Tadhg was an ass then, and some things never changed. Her best friend in school, Evie prime, had tried to warn her of her scoundrel of a brother. For Kivi, a country girl, he was charming and convincing. Then he had to be slapped with DNA proof. He occasionally remembered Noodle existed, but only when it benefited him. Otherwise, the gangly pre-teen looked just like her Mom.
“Yup” was the laconic reply as she grabbed her riding gloves, a light plaid, and headed to the mudroom. “Just gotta get boots on. Don’t forget your gloves and hat!” after shoving her feet in well-worn cowboy boots she slammed her hat on her head and jogged out to the barn. A few moments later, Noodlecame pelting after her and handed her mom, gloves without a word
“”Damnit”” Kivi laughed
A quick whistle and the three dogs materialized and fell into position behind the two. In the barn were half a dozen horses, all well-trained cow ponies. Zeus, her heart horse, poked his head over the door and blew softly out of his nose. He knew it was work time. Mac, Noodle’s Palomino Gelding, whickered a greeting.
“Ride Mags today willya Noodle? She needs the stretch and I’ve got two client Zooms this afternoon.” I asked before she could haul tack out. As if by magic the mares head poked out. Her long black forelock feel over a large snip over her whole nose, her color was pale yellow tan.
“Yup,” she said, in the same laconic tone and pattern as her mom. Kivi chuckled as she went to get Z’s gear. By habit she saddled horses in the stalls, fewer fights and accidents happened that way with Z. He was well trained, but still a stallion. Someday he’d be her main stud, but for now, she just shipped semen and had the occasional live cover come in. Z was silverly blue-grey with dark legs and faint zebra stripes around his knees. He was a short horse, with a good back and a big ole booty. Grullas were Kiwi’s favorite color, Stock horses her favorite type. There were a couple of intriguing breeds that bounced in her mind but they had no place on a ranch.
Work saddle and lariat in place, she walked out to the tack room to finish up with boots and a set of saddlebags, pre-packed with a bare first aid kit, a length of rope, a small tarp, and other useful items that might be needed on the trail. Always be prepared.
“Hurry up pokey” Noodle called as she headed out of the barn.
It’d been a good call, putting Noodle in charge of feeding and grooming. While born of necessity when Jack had passed, it had turned into a very good thing.
“I’m coming. Hey, the horses look great!” she gave credit where due but wasn’t one to mince words if things were not right.
“How many calves ya think?” she asked
“As many as 5 since we rode up last weekend,” Kiwi answered. “Listen, I told ya bout the Zooms. It’s possible a hoity-toity rider from out east will be coming to relax. So keep it to a dull roar”
“You said two.” She inquired
“Yea, the other is two College friends from Davis” came the smooth reply. She hoped her voice didn’t quiver as her stomach did at the thought. She’d dropped out of Davis to come home and never went back. University with a kid had been hard, but not as hard as running the ranch single-handed had been for the last 4 weeks. “Gods we need a foreman and a good hand.” she thought to herself.
“Took a message from someone named Robie who wants to interview,” Eve said, “I nearly forgot”
Kivi just shot her daughter a glance and they rode on in silence for a while, this was a familiar ride and it relaxed them both. Companionable silences were a commodity in today’s world.

Kivi looked back down the hill as they headed up and took in the view of the valley and their home. The original log cabin was just a little bit higher up than the main house. At one time the house held her parents, her aunt, her cousins and herself. Jack lived in the cabin, and the two hands bunked in the loft apartments over the garage. Her grandmother had her own special suite just across the drive and she had lived into her 90’s.
Kivi’s dad was gone, early and taken by an accident on an icy road 5 years previously. Her mom had set out to travel to all the places they’d wished about but never got to see. Kivi let her go because the grief was hard and Jack had been there. Now Jack was gone and her mom had decided she was done with rancher life. She hadn’t been born a Locke, but Kivi had, So Kivi stayed and her Mom lived in Cheyenne.
She looked down at the main house. It had happened in parts and so It was a very interesting shape. The House’s broad timbers and local stone made it snug against the trees and the view from the living room was fantastic.
The last bit of trail up to the pasture led through Kivi’s favorite area, because no matter how fast and lovely the house vista was, the view of the Black Hills from the clearing was breathtaking. It didn’t matter how many times her family and friends hit this view, they always stopped to take it in. They did so now. The air was fresh and filled with the flora of the area, the rain had bruised the leaves and the air was pungent. Thick conifers lined one side of the meadow and a small valley spread out to the left and before her. It was in this pasture that the cows lived from spring to fall. It was also the place that was visited by the band of wild horses that lived in the hills. She didn’t see them often, and when she did they took her breath away.
This view, this land, is why she didn’t finish her degree in Ecological Management and Restoration. This view took her away from her friends in California. This view was why she’d die here and she hoped, this view would have Noodle carry on the legacy. Locke ranch was over 100 years old and she hoped it would be 100 more years.”