Marty came running as if the barn were afire. “Nellie’s havin’ her . . . her baby, Hannah. Berto said . . . he said . . . to tell you the hooves are sticking out!” The breathless child didn’t wait to see if Hannah had even heard, but turned to race back to the barn.
Hannah had been helping Juanita make tortillas and quickly wiped the corn flour concoction from her hands. She smiled at Juanita. “Hopefully I’ll be back soon.” She had known only one previous delivery, and it took more than an hour even at this stage of the labor.
Hannah looked up at the dull gray skies. The temperature had dropped again. She was grateful for her warm coat and pulled it close. Inside the barn was only marginally warmer, but the dim lighting made it harder to see.
“She’s over here,” Andy announced. “She’s not lying down yet.”
Hannah walked to the small birthing pen. Nellie, a black-and-white Holstein, had been purchased along with two other milk cows when the Dandridges had moved to the ranch. The cows had been bred to deliver at different times in order to ensure a good supply of milk, and Nellie was the second of the three to calve.
“See the hooves?” Andy questioned.
Hannah did indeed spy the little calf’s hooves. Nellie seemed to hunch forward a bit and her tail stuck straight out behind her as another contraction seized her. Then the cow relaxed a bit and flicked her tail wildly as if to announce she’d had entirely enough of the whole procedure. Hannah couldn’t imagine the pain the poor animal must be enduring. Nellie moved around the pen, rubbing her head against the barn wall and then the stall door. She paced and paced, then hunched again as her body tried to expel the calf.
This time the head appeared and Nellie determined it was time to go to the ground. For a large animal in the middle of laboring, Hannah thought the cow rather graceful in her descent. For a short while it seemed that everything had stopped. The calf was neither born nor unborn. Hannah watched in fascination as Nellie pushed once again.
“It will not be long now,” Berto told her in a hushed voice.
A little bit more of the calf appeared, but not fast enough to suit Nellie. She jumped up to her feet and paced the pen with the calf dangling behind her. Then without warning she plopped back to the straw-covered floor and with two more pushes managed to finally expel the calf from her body. For a moment it seemed everyone held their breath. The calf just lay there without moving. Hannah wondered if it were dead.
As if in answer, Nellie bellowed and got up. She immediately set to licking the still calf. Within a matter of seconds, there was a flicker of life and then movement. The children cheered and Hannah felt like doing the same. What a wonder it was to watch new life begin.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” Marty asked.
“We can’t tell just yet,” Hannah said. “The baby hasn’t gotten up on its feet. It will be a little while before that happens.” But already the infant was straining to move. The insistent massage of Nellie’s tongue did wonders to stimulate the baby.
Another ten minutes passed and then another. The calf struggled to get to its feet, but continued to fall down. Marty and Andy giggled at the hilarious display. The poor thing simply hadn’t gotten used to having legs. About twenty minutes after its birth, however, the calf managed a wobbly stand. It was just long enough for Berto to announce it was a boy.
Andy gave a whoop. “Now we can raise a bull.”
Hannah hadn’t considered what would become of the calf. The other had been quickly passed off to another ranch, and Hannah had no idea what had become of it. She knew that on a ranch, however, an animal had to earn its keep or it couldn’t stay.
“We’ll have to see, Andy.”
“Can we pet the baby?” Marty asked.
Berto shook his head. “This mama, she protect her calf. She get mean if you touch her baby.”
“Come on back to the house,” Hannah said, realizing just how cold her feet had become. The children had been out there a lot longer and were no doubt even colder. “Juanita made Mexican chocolate for you. It should be ready.”
Andy and Marty liked the idea of this treat and hurried to follow Hannah into the house. They chattered all the way about what to call the new calf. By the time they were seated at the kitchen table with their drinks, Marty decided they should call the calf Cocoa.
“But that sounds like a girl’s name,” Andy protested. “Besides, he’s not brown. He’s black and white.”
“Mostly black,” Marty declared.
Andy’s face lit up. “Then let’s call him Blacky.”
“I like that,” Marty agreed and the matter was settled.
Hannah had already gone back to work making balls of the corn flour mixture so that they could press them into tortillas. Juanita had taken off the largest of the stove’s iron burner plates and positioned a large round-bottomed pan over the open flame. She was busy frying the pressed tortillas and setting them aside to cool. The warmth of the stove made the work far more enjoyable, given the cold temperature outside.
“Hannah, do you think it might snow this year?” Andy asked.
“It’s always possible, but not too likely. Frankly, it’s more than cold enough for me. I’ll be glad for the warmth of spring and summer.”
A loud knock on the front door interrupted their conversation. Hannah once again wiped her hands. This time, however, she discarded her apron in order to be presentable to company. She made her way to the door and opened it to find Herbert Lockhart on the other side. Hannah tried not to show her immediate feelings. She was still certain he’d had something to do with the arrival of the army at the Numunuu camp, but wasn’t yet ready to question him on it.
“Mr. Lockhart, this is a surprise. What brings you out here today?”
“I’m afraid it’s bad news,” he said. “Might I come in and explain?”
Hannah felt almost frozen in place. She nodded but didn’t step back. “Have you . . . did you hear something . . . about Father?”
He nodded. “Please. Let’s go sit down, and I’ll explain.”
She moved back just enough to allow him entrance into the house. Closing the door, Hannah felt an icy chill go up her spine. Her father was dead. She didn’t know how she could be so certain without hearing it first, but something convinced her of its truth.
Following Mr. Lockhart into the front room, Hannah sat stiffly on a high-backed wooden chair and waited for him to speak.
“I had a letter. There was a note for you, as well. Apparently your father was ill and had someone write it for him.”
“But now he’s dead, isn’t he?” She studied Lockhart’s face, certain she would see the truth in his expression. She did. “How did he die?”
“The letter speaks of a long bout with a fever. He was apparently too weak to go on.”
“Where did he die?”
“A small town in eastern Louisiana. He was buried there. I’ve forwarded funds to reimburse his expenses.”
She nodded, feeling a terrible emptiness inside. “Thank you.”
“If you’ll take time to read his letter to you, you’ll see it was his wish for us to marry right away. He wanted to see that you were cared for. I didn’t say anything earlier, but your father and I were partners not only in the law business but in this ranch. I own half of it, and now it will come to me in its entirety.”
Hannah tried to comprehend what he was saying. Her mind was already well down the road, however, trying to plan for her future and that of her brother and sister.
“I want you to pack whatever you need and come with me back to town. We can have your foreman drive you and the children. We will visit the minister and see how quickly he can perform the ceremony.”
Shaking her head, Hannah got to her feet. “If you are now the owner of this ranch, surely you will not force us from it today.”
“Of course not, but there is also news of additional Comanche and Kiowa attacks. I don’t want to risk anything happening to you.” He smiled and stepped forward. “My dear, I know that you have not yet grown to love me, but I have the deepest admiration and affection for you. Our marriage will be a good one. You needn’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said, looking at him in disbelief. “I’ve just learned of my father’s . . . death.” She lowered her voice. “My brother and sister are in the kitchen, and I would not have them hear the news from you. I must speak with them privately.”
“Of course,” he replied. “Why don’t you go speak with them and I’ll wait here.”
She shook her head. “I will need time with them. You should return to town.”
“But I’ve only just arrived, and the temperature is quite chilling.” He smiled. “Please allow me to stay and help you with your grief.”
“Help me? Help me explain to a five- and eight-year-old that they’ve lost their one remaining parent? I think not. This is a private matter, Mr. Lockhart. You may have been partnered with our father in business, but not in our family.” Hannah hugged her arms close as if warding off Herbert Lockhart’s very presence.
“Miss Dandridge . . . Hannah . . . please do not hold me malice for bringing such bad tidings,” Lockhart said in a formal manner. “It was only my desire to bear this burden with you. As I stated, I have come to care quite deeply for you and your family. Your father was . . . well . . . a brother to me in many ways.”
“Then as our . . . uncle,” Hannah replied, “you will understand that we are now in a time of mourning. You will have to excuse me.” She got to her feet. She could see the frustration, perhaps even anger, in Lockhart’s expression as he stepped forward.
“I cannot allow you to risk your life or the lives of your brother and sister. I owe it to your father. You are not thinking clearly, therefore I will make the decision for you.”
That was the wrong thing to say to Hannah. She felt defiance rear up in her. “I will not be dictated to by you or any other man, Mr. Lockhart. I will seek counsel and learn if you truly do possess this ranch or if it will in fact be returned to Mr. Barnett. Either way, I do not plan to marry you, and I find it cruel that you would even consider such a thing necessary at a time like this.”
Lockhart took a step back, as if her words had struck him physically. “I am sorry, my dear. It was never my intention to be cruel.”
“I am not your ‘dear,’ so please refrain from calling me such,” Hannah said, narrowing her eyes. Her sorrow was pushed aside by her anger. “I am grateful that you brought us the news of our father. We have long suspected such an outcome, but it’s better to know for sure. Now we face our true time of mourning. Please see to it that I receive all information regarding his burial. The day may come when we wish to visit his grave. I will take my leave from you at this time, and you must go.”
She didn’t wait for him to say another word. Instead, she gathered her skirts and made her way to the kitchen.