Page 10 of A Steadfast Heart
No doubt he had. Had probably pushed the other family into leaving.
Ed pulled Lightning closer. “If we have to, we can tear down the bunkhouse and salvage the wood to build our cabins.”
Drew shook his head. Where would his brothers sleep?
Ed seemed to follow his train of thought. “Nick and I can bed down on the living room floor for as long as it takes, and Isaac…doesn’t seem to want a roof over his head these days.”
Another problem. Jocular, outgoing Isaac had come back from his last marshal job silent and solitary, and without his badge.
Lord, if it’s true You won’t give us more than we can handle, I sure wish You didn’t trust me so much.
Drew glanced over his shoulder to meet Ed’s gaze. “We’ll find a way. We have to.”
Someday he’d like to do better than justfind a way. Pa had made it look easy, but in the decade since Drew had taken over, he’d learned it was anything but. He’d made a promise to his ma, that he’d take care of his brothers. If they didn’t get those homesteads proved up, he’d fail at that as well. No way could a single homestead support four men and three kids.
And Quade now owned the best stand of lumber trees.
Solomon sidestepped. Drew dragged himself out of his thoughts to see dots of red splashed across the patches of snow. He followed the trail to a patch of brush, then looked away.
Too late.
Curly wasn’t moving.
Ed reined in beside him. “David is going to take this hard.”
“He’ll survive it. We all did.” But the words felt hollow somehow. Like Drew inside.
This was Drew’s fault. It was that bull he’d bought. He had taken one look at that Angus bull in the sale ring and just known it would improve their stock. Now he had five dead cows and a soon-to-be-distraught son.
Curly’s calf stood on wobbly legs next to her dead mother, then folded onto the ground. The cold, wet ground that would suck the life from her as well if they didn’t hurry.
Drew swung down from his horse. That calf had to live. It was the best possible salve for David’s heart.
He grabbed the blanket from behind his saddle and wiped down the calf.
Ed went behind him, rubbing where Drew had dried, trying to improve the calf’s circulation. “We’ve lost a lot of cows in calving this year, more than normal.”
The words were salt in the wound. Drew knew. “Has to be the bull.” Guilt coiled low in his stomach. He should have been able to predict the problem. Should have realized that the bull was too big for his otherwise healthy herd. “I’ll be selling him the first opportunity we get.” They might take a loss on him, but less than they were losing now.
Ed stood back as the calf struggled to her feet. “Why don’t you take this little one to the barn? Lightning wouldn’t like the smell of blood on her.”
Solomon wouldn’t like it either, but he’d do it because Drew asked it. “Someone will have to butcher Curly.” Drew’s stomach turned at the thought, but there was no help for it. Painful or not, they couldn’t afford to waste the meat.
Hooves sounded in the distance. That’d be Isaac, drawn by the sight of the buzzards. Nick was on kitchen duty today.
Ed tipped his head. “Isaac and I can handle it.”
Drew nodded. “Appreciate it.” He swung into the saddle. “Hand me the calf?”
Ed wrangled him across Drew’s lap. They had missed some patches of blood, and it smeared across his pants and shirt. Oh well. His clothes would wash.
Ed gave Solomon’s neck a quick rub, which the horse tolerated. “You’d better get this baby to the barn. The sooner she’s warm and fed, the better. Isaac won’t be much longer.”
Drew turned Solomon toward home. His horse shook his head at the slow pace Drew set but didn’t argue otherwise. Not that Drew blamed him. Solomon knew there was grain waiting in the warm barn, just like Drew knew there’d be a pot of hot coffee on the stove in the kitchen. “Not much longer, boy. Just over that rise.” As if the horse didn’t know his way home blindfolded.
They topped the hill that gave the best view of the homestead. The setting sun cast shadows across the clearing where they planned to raise Ed’s cabin. It was empty except for the haying equipment waiting for repairs. The barn door still didn’t shut completely, since no one had fixed its broken track.
Drew’s dream of handing this land on to a new generation of McGraws was slipping from his grasp. The legacy his father had begun was crashing down around him.
