22

Mary covered Will with blankets while Ruby swabbed the blood away and bandaged the cuts. Catherine sank to the ground. Better to sit down than fall down, Will supposed. They didn’t need another casualty. He tried to push himself up.

“Stay there, Dad,” Ruby said. “We’re going to keep you here until Dr. Snyder examines you. We’ll not take any chances.”

Half an hour later, Will heard a car in the distance and knew it must be the doctor.

After checking Will carefully, Dr. Snyder moved him to his bedroom and proclaimed him fit to fish another day. “Plenty of cuts and bruises and a couple broken ribs, I think,” Dr. Snyder said. “You’ll be sore for a while, but I can’t do much for those ribs other than to bind them tight.”

Dr. Snyder turned to Will’s middle daughter. “You did the right thing, Ruby, not moving him. He won’t get around for a few days. Make him stay in bed and keep an eye on him. He may have a concussion. If he has severe headaches, vomiting, or seems incoherent, call me fast.”

Dr. Snyder started toward the bedroom door, and then he turned back. “Oh, if I were you, I’d give that dog the biggest bone you can find. Maybe it’s time to butcher that bull and give your dog his share.”

“No chance of that,” Will murmured. “I’ve got too much money in him. That bull’s my future.”

But today, that bull was almost his past. Keeping it was a big risk.

* * *

The next morning Will heard car engines and looked through his bedroom window.

“Who’d be coming so early?” he said to Mary.

“I think that’s Henning’s car. And others, too.”

But Henning didn’t come to see him. Instead, he entered the milk house door. Three other cars stopped behind, and Will heard someone shout, “Can you use some help, girls?”

Will, propped up by a large down-filled pillow, lay in his bed. His body ached, even when lying still. And whenever he moved, his chest felt like he’d been skewered and roasted over a hot coal fire. Finian had warned him about that bull. He probably shouldn’t have taken the chance with him. He repeated his old mantra, “It’s no sin to be poor, just damn inconvenient.” And dangerous, too.

He looked around the small bedroom. There was room enough for their double bed, a small chest, dresser, night stand, and chamber pot. And not much space between each, either. A month before, he’d struggled to move the new feather tick past the furniture to the bed. Will was glad that Mary had insisted they stay downstairs. He’d not have made the stairs today, not unless they’d carried him.

A few minutes later, Mary, Catherine, and Ruby entered his room. “Dad,” Catherine said, “Mr. Henning, Mr. Roberts, and the others are doing our milking so that Ruby and I can get to school.”

Will was surprised to hear that Roberts had come to help.

“I was afraid I’d miss my literature class,” Catherine said.

“I wanted to miss old Gurdle’s civics class,” Ruby said. “Darn it. We’d have had a good enough excuse.”

“Oh, Ruby, you just don’t like Mrs. McGurdle.”

“I don’t like civics. Now, if it was biology, and we were dissecting a pig, I’d be there early.”

“Ugh, I’d rather sit through Gurdle’s class.”

“Some of the men said they’d stop up as soon as they have a free minute,” Catherine said. She turned to her mother. “And they said you’re not to bring any food to the barn. You’ve got enough work with Dad down.”

Will pulled a second pillow behind his back and groaned as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He took a few shallow breaths before speaking. “I grew up on the farm, and I never knew a farmer who’d not help his neighbor, but it’s been so long that I’d almost forgotten.” He winced and repositioned himself. “It’s something we shouldn’t forget, girls.”

* * *

After school, Catherine and Ruby rushed into Will’s room.

“McGurdle gave Ruby detention for being late to class,” Catherine said.

“Catherine, you snitch, you weren’t supposed to tell.”

“How could you be so careless? You knew we had to get home to help with chores.”

“I was only five minutes late.”

“You know McGurdle. Five seconds and you catch—well, you know what.”

“Yeah, you miss the bell, you catch hell.”

“Ruby!” Catherine said.

“I talked her into letting me do the time after Dad gets back on his feet.”

“How’d you do that? Nobody cons McGurdle.”

“Daddy needs the help, don’t you Dad?”

“Yes, but—”

Mary called up the stairs. “Girls, Mr. Henning is here. He wants to know how much ground feed you give each cow.”

“We’d better get down there,” Catherine called as she ran from the room.

* * *

Will settled into his down pillows and read the Farm Journal. He seldom had time to read anymore, so he’d make use of this opportunity. He’d learned more about farming when he lived in town, when it was easier to find time to read. After reading about a new hybrid blight-resistant corn, he dropped the journal and dozed for a while. He awoke when he heard laughter in the hallway, and before he could find a pillow to prop his head higher, Ruby and Catherine raced into his room.

“Daddy, you’ve never seen the likes,” Catherine said. “Mr. Henning, Mr. Johnson, and Mr. Snell know their business, but you should have seen Mr. Tyler. It’s good that Petr was there to help.”

“Our banker is here?”

“What a hoot,” Ruby said. “I’ve never laughed so hard as when I saw him pushing cows up the lane. He stumbled from fence line to fence line. Starting, stopping, and hopping to avoid the fresh cow pies. You’d have thought he was doing a new dance, and not very graceful either. If Petr hadn’t shooed them along, I don’t think we’d ever have got them in for milking.”

“I bet Mr. Tyler won’t help with the milking,” Catherine said. “He’s probably afraid to get under a cow.”

“Daddy,” Ruby said, “Jake McGried said his dad would come to help.”

“Jackson? That’d be a surprise. He’s not been too happy with me, you know—nor I with him.”

“Do you think he pulled our fence over?” Catherine said.

“It’s this co-op business.” He adjusted his pillow. “People get riled when it affects their livelihood. They act different.”

“He’s just an old hypocrite,” Ruby said. “That’s what I think.”

“That’s not very nice,” Catherine said.

“He’ll hit you when you’re down,” Ruby said.

“You don’t know,” Catherine said.

“He did it. And Jake probably helped.”

“Times are hard,” Will said. “He’s not a bad man, you know.”

“Tell that to Earl Roberts,” Ruby said.

“Girls, you’d better get to the chores. You can’t let our neighbors do all the work.”

Will thought about how his daughters were so different, how Ruby was quick to judge but Catherine not so ready to take offense. He knew that men weren’t saints, but he’d give any man the benefit of doubt. At least until he was proven wrong. He preferred Catherine’s way.

After milking, the girls reentered Will’s room.

“Daddy, Mr. Tyler did help with the milking,” Catherine said.

“Just protecting his investment,” Ruby said.

“Don’t be cynical,” Will said. “Even bankers can be good guys. And I think Ron is.”

“They don’t have many friends these days,” Ruby said.

“I suppose not,” Will said.

“You should have seen him trying to get milk from a stubborn teat,” Catherine said. “His thumb and forefinger weren’t strong enough to stop the milk from pushing back into the udder, so every time he squeezed down, only a few drops trickled into the pail.”

“And George Snell wasn’t much better,” Ruby chimed in. “Seems he’s lost his touch now he has machines. Why, Mr. Henning milked a cow and started another before Mr. Tyler balanced his stool.”

“Did you see Mr. Tyler take a lick from that cow?” Catherine said to Ruby. “I heard a crash and saw a stool fly into the gutter. I saw Mr. Tyler sprawled between two kicking cows, and then, with a loud clang, his pail flew across the aisle and into the calf pens. He cussed and said, ‘These danged one-legged stools.’ Except, he didn’t say ‘danged.’ Then he gingerly lifted the manure-covered stool from the gutter and muttered, ‘How can anyone balance on these?’”

Will suspected that tonight’s work gave Mr. Tyler new respect for the farmers who did this twice each day. A new respect for the work his money supported.

* * *

The next morning before milking, Jackson McGried slipped into Will’s room.

“Will, I don’t want you to think I’ve gone soft, but I wanted to help. We’re still neighbors.”

“Jackson, I appreciate your coming. I didn’t expect it.”

“Don’t misunderstand. I still think you’re a soft-headed old fool. This co-op business was your idea, and when we needed you to stand up for it, you folded like a paper bag in a rainstorm.”

“If you feel that way, why’d you come?”

“I can’t let a neighbor down. I think you’d do the same.”

“I would.” But Will wasn’t so sure.

“That doesn’t mean I agree with what you’ve said or done. I hope you understand that.”

“I do.”

“Your old bull probably knew how soft you are. He’d never have gone after a man with any backbone.”

McGried strode from Will’s room.

Catherine rushed through the bedroom door. “Oh, Daddy, I couldn’t help but hear what that monster said.” She threw her arms around his neck. “How could he say such things?”

“Maybe he’s right, Catherine. Grandfather thought the same, now didn’t he? It’s the way I am. Maybe I am too soft.” He shook his head vigorously to drive that thought from his mind. “I can’t condone violence.”

“I wouldn’t want you hard-hearted.” Catherine sat by her father, her head on his shoulder. “I love you just like you are, Daddy.”

When she reached up to hug him, Will knew that a successful co-op wasn’t the only thing worth living for.

* * *

After milking, Catherine brought Earl Roberts to the house. Before they entered Will’s room, he heard his daughter say, “Mr. Roberts, just say hello. I know he’ll be pleased that you’ve come to help. You must know how hard this has been for him. I worry about him, Mr. Roberts.”

They entered the room together. “Daddy, Mr. Roberts wants to talk with you.”

“Hello, Earl.”

“How are you, Will?”

“I appreciate your help,” Will said. “I don’t know how I’d get along. We’ve missed you at the meetings.”

“I was kinda harsh on you. Get too heated up.”

“Earl, things are going to change. The war will decide that. And you’d better believe, we will be at war despite what most think. It’ll be like the first war again. Prices will skyrocket. Someone has to feed the world, and we’re all that’s left. It’s a terrible way to prosper, but mark my word, we’ll all benefit. Won’t you come back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Farmin’s a hard way to make a living, but none of us would do anything else.”

Will pried himself up, wincing. “I appreciate your coming today, Earl. I don’t hold hard feelings against you. We all want to feed our families and maybe have a little left over to help make a more comfortable life. But I still believe that we have a better chance if we work together.”

“I still have doubts.”

“It’ll improve, Earl. Just stick with us.” Will reached his hand out.

Roberts squeezed Will’s hand, shrugged, and, without another word, turned and strode from the room.

Will prayed things would turn for the better before everyone lost hope in their united effort.