Behind the chute, Cabe and Micah are waiting.
Each calf gets funneled through. Micah swipes alcohol across an ear, and Cabe punches in a tag.
Grandpa Earl stands nearby with the tagging tool and disinfectant, overseeing the operation with the stern expression of a man who still believes nobody can do anything correctly except him.
“Next one!” Micah yells.
A calf shoots through.
He grabs it, and Cabe tags it.
The calf explodes forward.
The process repeats. Again and again.
We’ve been at this shit for hours.
It’s hard work—the kind of work a man can hang his hat on at night and be proud of.
Dad rides alongside me as another calf moves through. His eyes drift over the operation, and the satisfaction on his face is impossible to miss.
“You know,” he says, “it’s good, having all my boys home.”
I snort. “Don’t get used to it.”
Royce laughs from the opposite side.
Dad grins. “Trust me, I know better than that.”
I guide another calf toward the chute.
“You two will be back on the circuit before you know it. Fall’s coming fast.”
The smile never leaves his face. His gaze sweeps over Royce. Then me. Then Cabe and Micah.
“I’m just enjoying it while it lasts.”
Something in his voice settles heavily in my chest because I know exactly what he means. The older I get, the more I understand that these moments become rarer. Everybody’s growing up—building lives, chasing careers, falling in love, moving away.
The ranch stays the same, but the people don’t. And your time with your loved ones is precious.
Dad understands that better than anybody.
A few minutes later, the sound of hoofbeats catches my attention.
I glance toward the round pen. Charli is riding one of the ranch’s boarded horses. Even from here, I can tell she’s putting the gelding through his paces.
The horse responds beautifully. No surprise there. Charli could probably train a grizzly if somebody put a saddle on it.
Eventually, she dismounts and heads in our direction.
She leans against the fence and watches us work. Offering plenty of criticism, but no help.
“I know you can cut a calf better than that, Royce Trust. Don’t let that baby show you up.”
Royce tips his hat. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“You’re welcome.”
