February 18, 1942
Willard flexed his tired arms before grabbing another bale of hay and throwing it from the truck to the waiting cattle. A chill had settled deep in his bones, and he wanted the day finished. After heaving three more bales over the side of the truck, he knocked on the top. Father moved the truck over the hill to the next feeding site. The tires worked to find traction as the truck skidded along rough ruts worn into the hard ground. The sandhills didn’t produce much for the cattle during the summer, but during winter it produced nothing. So they plowed across the hills, dropping hay to keep the cows alive through the cold.
As he rode, Willard hunkered down in the truck’s bed among bales of hay. The wind had died, but the air penetrated his layers. He couldn’t feel his toes any better than he could sense what his heart wanted. It seemed as barren as the hills that dipped into valleys around him.
Memories of time with Audrey slipped into his mind. The feel of her hand in his. The softness of her skin. He pulled each memory out and savored it. She was the best thing that had appeared in his life for a while. He needed to make his peace with the reality that he was stuck on the ranch and move on. She was right. Why throw away forever with her? It made sense. He just had to figure out how to live it.
Willard’s head bumped into the back of the cab as his father slammed the brakes. He craned his neck and turned to see around the truck and spotted the cause of the stop. A young cow stood squarely across the ruts. Father honked the horn, and the cow turned and looked at him.
“Stubborn creature, isn’t it?” Father hung out the window and looked back toward Willard.
“Dumb. Only a dumb animal would park in front of a truck.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I certainly won’t go through him, and I can’t go around him. Why don’t you hop down and make him move.”
Willard grumbled and jumped from the truck bed. His frozen feet vibrated with pain as he landed. “Stupid animal. Why couldn’t you cooperate like a decent bovine? With a thousand acres to roam, you had to settle right here, didn’t ya?” As he mumbled, Willard approached the animal slowly. It might be young, but a stomp of one of its hooves on his feet could shatter his toes. “Sounds like a young woman I know. Stubborn to the hilt and equally difficult to talk to. Actually, you aren’t so bad. You don’t talk back.” Willard reached out and swatted it on the rump.
The cow mooed and kicked its heels.
Willard darted away and narrowly missed getting hit in the gut. “Now that wasn’t nice. I see I’ll have to be more forceful with you.”
“What’s taking so long, Willard? We’ve still got a lot of acres to cover before we head home.”
“I know, I know.” Willard pulled an apple from his pocket and eyed the cow. “This is supposed to be my snack. You can have it, if you can catch me.” He held the apple under the cow’s nose and slowly walked away. The cow considered him and then followed. Willard tossed the apple on the ground and rushed to the truck.
Father laughed as Willard climbed into the passenger seat to warm up. “I can’t say I’ve seen a cow bribed with an apple before. Looks like a good trick.”
Willard relished the sound of his father’s pleasure. He missed the deep rumble of joy that had disappeared when he left to enlist. Now as they spent time together, a détente had settled. Three hours later they rumbled back home. Father pulled the truck into the barn, and Willard helped him close-up for the night.
“Next time let’s pick a warmer day.”
“Now, son, you know the cows have to eat regardless of the weather.”
“I know. But my fingers and toes would appreciate some warmth.”
They walked together in silence. As they climbed the porch steps, Father turned to him. “Are you all right? You’ve been all out of sorts for a while now.”
“I’ll be fine. Just have a few matters to sort through in my mind.”
Mother pulled food from the warming oven for them as they washed their hands and faces in the backroom sink. Willard plopped onto a seat at the kitchen table and inhaled deeply.
“Smells great, Mother.” Willard held his mug of coffee and sipped.
“Thank you. How’d your day go?”
Father shoved a forkful of green beans into his mouth and chewed quickly. “You should have seen him. Willard lured a cow with an apple. Worked like a charm.”
“That’s me, the cow charmer. I was so cold I’d have used anything to get him to move so we could come home.”
After all they could eat and a slice of fresh apple pie each, they moved into the great room. Willard built a large fire and stood in its glow. He heard a familiar stride he could recognize without turning and smiled. Time for a game of checkers. “Hi, Roger.”
“Howdy. Haven’t you thawed out yet?”
“Nope, he turned into an icicle out there, if you listen to him.” Father chuckled and settled in his chair with the paper.
Willard stood and brushed off his hands. “Ready to play some checkers?”
“Sure. Let me refill my coffee first.” Soon Roger dropped into his usual spot in front of the fire. They spread out the checkerboard and launched a marathon round. After a while Father and Mother turned in, leaving them to their game.
“Someday we should take up chess. Up the challenge a bit.” Willard jumped his piece across the board. “King me.”
Roger groaned and handed him the last black piece he’d collected. “I’ll stop playing since you beat me so much.”
“But that wouldn’t be much fun.”
“Probably not. Look, Willard, I need to ask you something.”
Willard stopped planning his next move, concerned by Roger’s serious tone. He sat up and gave Roger his full attention. “Okay. Is something wrong?”
Roger stared into the fire for a minute. “There’s something you need to know.”
His tone told Willard he wouldn’t like the words that followed. “Maybe we should turn in.” Willard didn’t want to hear whatever Roger wanted to say.
“No. If we wait, you’ll hear it from someone else. I’ll ship to Fort Riley in a couple weeks for basic training.”
A rush pounding through Willard’s head filled his ears. “I don’t think I heard you. You’re headed to Fort Riley?”
Roger nodded. “I report there March 2.”
Willard didn’t want to believe his ears. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely. My number got called, and I’ve passed the physical and other tests. I won’t know where I’m posted until I report for duty. I’m on my two-week leave now.”
“Have you told, Father?”
“No. I wanted you to know first. You’re my best friend—have been since we were in grade school.”
“Lucky guy, your life changes dramatically, and mine stays the same as always.”
Roger held out his hand. “I’m headed back to the bunkhouse. Wish me luck?”
Willard clapped Roger on the back. “I’ll pray for you, but let’s enjoy the rest of your time here before we say good-bye.”
“All right. Good night.”
Willard stayed in the Great Room and watched the fire die down to embers. His mind raced.
Father, are You still with me? It seems You’ve abandoned me with everyone else. He shook his head as he wearily climbed the stairs.