[[Jesse]]
I remember it being a clear day. The sun shone brightly through the trees. Between its warm glow and the gentle wind, dancing shadows played about the edges of the woods, but the expanse of the open ranch was left to bask in the sunlight.
As I watched them the sheep milled about in utter contentment. I leaned back against the small building that served as home, my black hat tipped down low over my forehead to block out the light. I knew what I looked like: a stereotype. I had my cowboy hat perma-glued to my head, a long lean frame, well-fitting jeans, and a worn and comfortable pair of cowboy boots, on legs crossed at the ankles. If there was anyone to talk to, my voice would just go right along with my looks: low, mellow, soothing, with one hell of a mid-west drawl. The sheep liked hearing me talk, on the rare occasions I did. By all accounts, I seemed like an ordinary rancher. I was far from ordinary.
I added to the picture by sticking a blade of grass in my mouth as I watched the sheep wander around, aimlessly butting into each other. One of the ewes had recently had a lamb, and that's where I kept looking. She and the lamb were most at risk from predators. Now I hadn't had much problem with attacks on the sheep before. Most predators tended to stay in the woods and hunt there. But some couldn't resist the lure of so much free-range meat dancing just out of reach. But it didn't matter if they tried. I did my job well.
Jacob Austin needed help on his small ranch, and when I applied for the job with nothing but a smile on my face and no references, Jacob had been hesitant. I could tell. Might've been the way I spoke that convinced him, or maybe it was just the lack of anyone else willing to work for so little pay, but he agreed. So far it had worked out well. I never needed much from him and his flock was thriving every time he checked in.
I'd no idea that day would be any different from the dozens I'd already spent on that ranch.
I remember it being a clear day. The sun shone brightly through the trees. Between its warm glow and the gentle wind, dancing shadows played about the edges of the woods, but the expanse of the open ranch was left to bask in the sunlight.
As I watched them the sheep milled about in utter contentment. I leaned back against the small building that served as home, my black hat tipped down low over my forehead to block out the light. I knew what I looked like: a stereotype. I had my cowboy hat perma-glued to my head, a long lean frame, well-fitting jeans, and a worn and comfortable pair of cowboy boots, on legs crossed at the ankles. If there was anyone to talk to, my voice would just go right along with my looks: low, mellow, soothing, with one hell of a mid-west drawl. The sheep liked hearing me talk, on the rare occasions I did. By all accounts, I seemed like an ordinary rancher. I was far from ordinary.
I added to the picture by sticking a blade of grass in my mouth as I watched the sheep wander around, aimlessly butting into each other. One of the ewes had recently had a lamb, and that's where I kept looking. She and the lamb were most at risk from predators. Now I hadn't had much problem with attacks on the sheep before. Most predators tended to stay in the woods and hunt there. But some couldn't resist the lure of so much free-range meat dancing just out of reach. But it didn't matter if they tried. I did my job well.
Jacob Austin needed help on his small ranch, and when I applied for the job with nothing but a smile on my face and no references, Jacob had been hesitant. I could tell. Might've been the way I spoke that convinced him, or maybe it was just the lack of anyone else willing to work for so little pay, but he agreed. So far it had worked out well. I never needed much from him and his flock was thriving every time he checked in.
I'd no idea that day would be any different from the dozens I'd already spent on that ranch.