Page 10 of Pigeon

“That went pretty good. Who’s riding shotgun now?” Tessie shouts out the truck window.

That girl might not know how to drive worth a shit, but she’s an expert at clearing out a crowd.

Chapter 4

Ivy

After morning chores, I make a quick trip to town for groceries and to run a few errands. That done, I return to the ranch and start the laundry. While that’s going, I give the house a quick cleaning and start cooking. I try to get a few things cooked ahead of time that make quick, easy meals throughout the week. When I have the laundry caught up and a few things cooked, portioned out, and placed in the freezer, I head back out to the barns.

I have no idea where Ted or Todd are or what they’re doing, but it doesn’t matter. I know what I need to get accomplished today, so I get busy. After unloading the heavy bags of grain I picked up in town, I gather the medical supplies I need and saddle my favorite horse, Junior. Whistling for the dogs to follow, we head out for the pastures.

I relax as soon as I can no longer see the house or barns. Alone with just Junior and the dogs for company, I’m now in my element. I can’t see a single man-made structure, and I think again how fortunate I am to have this life. Not the part that includes Ted, but the opportunity to live with the kind of peace that this land provides. It settles my mind, replenishes my soul, and I know it could do that for others too.

My view from atop my horse is of beautiful ranch land dotted with cattle in the distance and a creek winding its way through grass that lightly sways with the breeze. Spring brings new life, and it’s my favorite season. It’s still early, but the grass is getting greener by the day, and wildflowers are starting to pop up. Calves and foals have been born and while the workload increases, so does the joy of watching them begin their lives.

I’ve always felt at one with nature and animals and less so with people. Animals are honest and usually give love when they receive it. Humans aren’t as easy to understand. Working with the animals at the shelter, I’m often left at a loss for words at how many have been mistreated. Humans can be cruel, and I’ll never understand why. Being kind is free, whether it’s to a child, an animal, or an adult. What I do know is that someone who’s mean to animals is usually a bully with humans too. Ones that are smaller or weaker than them, of course. Bully or coward, the words can be interchangeable.

Sensing Junior’s restlessness, I pull my ball cap down tight over my unruly hair, lift the reins, and lightly give his sides a squeeze. He breaks into a lope, and my heart lightens even more. The dogs break into a run on either side of us as we race toward the creek. Just before reaching the edge, I slow Junior enough to let the dogs hit the water first. Then slowing to a trot, Junior happily splashes his way to the other side and leaps up the bank in a graceful move. Heads lift from grazing to watch horse, rider, and dogs approach the herd.

Riding quietly around and amongst the cattle, I check for injuries or illnesses of any kind. Taking an extra look at each of the calves, I’m happy to see all are doing well in this pasture. With another whistle to the dogs, I turn Junior north to check on the next herd.

After checking on two different herds, it’s time to return to the barn. It’s been a beautiful, if somewhat crisp, day for a ride, but there’s more to accomplish before I’m done today. When the buildings are back in sight, I realize how tense my body is becoming when Junior starts tossing his head. Making a conscious effort to relax, I pat his neck reassuringly and sigh. A few more years, and I won’t have to dread coming home.

“Get dinner on the fucking table, Ivy!” Ted shouts from the living room.

I ignore his voice and continue filling dishes. When everything is placed on the table, I turn to grab the iced tea pitcher and find myself shoved against the counter’s edge instead. Wincing from the pain in my wrist from Ted’s grasp, I shift my eyes to his bloodshot ones.

“When I speak to you, you answer,” Ted growls.

Pulling my head back to escape his breath laden with beer, I jerk my wrist free. Placing both palms in his chest, I shove hard. Caught off-guard, Ted stumbles back a step.

“Don’t touch me, Ted. I warned you before about putting hands on me, and I won’t warn you again,” I say in a low voice.

Taking another step back, Ted crosses his arms over his chest and smirks down at me.

“And what are you going to do about it, Ivy?” Ted asks while tossing a grin at Todd, who’s standing in the doorway looking uncomfortable.

“When the terms of the will are met, you’re gone, Ted. You’ll never step foot back on this ranch, and neither will you, Todd,” I reply firmly while avoiding the real question he asked.

“A lot can happen in three years, Ivy. A lot,” Ted warns, his voice turning menacing.

Pushing past Ted, I grab the pitcher and fill my glass. Taking my seat, I don’t respond. After a moment, Ted kicks the leg of my chair then takes his own seat. Todd sits and immediately starts filling his plate. It’s several minutes of silence before Ted breaks it.

“I’m hiring a full-time cowhand. Todd’s cousin is taking the position and will be here in a week or so to start work. He’ll be staying in the bunkhouse but eating with us most days. Plan on that.”

I stare at my brother, wondering how we were raised by the same set of grandparents and yet so fundamentally different as people. We didn’t need another ranch hand except during certain parts of the year. What we needed was for Todd and Ted to do their jobs as they did when our grandfather was still alive. Todd had been a decent ranch foreman then, and Ted did his share of the workload. Papa wouldn’t have tolerated anything less, and it hurts my heart knowing how disappointed he’d now be in Ted.

“I think it’s a waste of money that could be put to better use,” I state while drawing in a breath in preparation for Ted’s reaction.

“Take a good look at my face, Ivy. Does it look like a face that gives two shits what you think?” Ted responds in a much calmer manner than I expected.

“No, Ted, I know you don’t care about anything I say. I’m saying my piece anyway, though. If you and Todd did the job the way you used to do, we wouldn’t have to pay for another hand. Papa only hired extras during haying and calving. In less than three years, the ranch will solely be mine, and it would be nice if you and Todd didn’t run it into the ground before then. You can take your inheritance, leave now, and leave me to deal with the ranch,” I say in a quiet voice.

This is a conversation we’ve had many times but to no avail. Ted is determined to control the assets of the ranch and my life regardless of how much I want him to leave. His inheritance is his to take, but why dip into that when you can spend the ranch’s money? Why leave a home where you have a roof over your head, money in your pocket, food on the table, and not have to work for any of it?

The blow to the side of my face isn’t a complete shock. My head snaps back, but I fight down any show of pain. I calmly look at my brother and feel nothing but disgust. Since our grandparents have passed, Ted’s real personality has risen to the surface. The mean streak he’s always had is now emboldened by alcohol, and there’s no need to hide it anymore.

Glancing at Todd, I note that he’s got his eyes on his plate. Todd is a weak man, and I learned that a long time ago. There will never be help or sympathy coming from that corner. I was never a big fan of Todd, but over the last few years, I’ve come to despise him. The feeling isn’t as strong as it is for Ted, but it’s not mild either. The day I take control of the ranch will be the last day I have to see him, and I look forward to seeing his taillights.

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