Addie and Walsh’s presence reminded him there was only one thing left that they hadn’t done. One dream they’d yet to fulfill.
Number 073 had grown tired of Addie’s tugging, so Ty stood and patted Addie on the back. “Let’s give her a rest, okay?” Addie backed away while Ty hooked the cow up to the machine to finish the job. Walsh was still brushing, so Ty looked around for another brush to give to Addie.
“Uncle Ty?” Addie sat on the bench. “Why do your cows wear earrings?”
“They’re not earrings, they’re ID tags.” He sat next to her and stretched his legs out in front of him. “You know how dogs wear tags on their collars?”
Addie nodded.
“These tags tell us the cow’s birthday and who her mother was.”
“Does she forget who her mother was?”
“Well, no, I don’t guess she does. But when the mothers and babies are separated, the ID tags help us keep them all straight.”
Addie swung her legs back and forth, her shoes scraping across the wooden floor. “Why do you separate them?”
“It’s just our process. After the moms give birth, they go back out into the pasture and the babies—we call them calves—go into a special pen so they can get stronger. We feed them and take care of them . . .”
He could explain it away, but the truth was, the act of separating calves from their mothers was the one part of dairy farming that still, after all this time, made Ty uncomfortable. Most farms separated calves from their mothers within hours, but he often gave the calves two or three days, allowing them to drink the nutrient-rich colostrum directly from the mother and to soak up as much of her attention as possible before he moved them to another pen. The separation was necessary to get the amount of milk they needed, but whenever a calf was born, he dreaded interrupting those natural routines of early life.
“Are the babies sad?” Addie’s eyes filled.
“I think they’re just fine,” Ty said. After all, the calves were happy as long as they had food coming. Whether from their mom or a bottle didn’t matter. It was the mothers who had the hardest time. Some of those cows mourned for their absent babies for days, moaning and stomping in their stalls. Ty swore he could hear those moans in his sleep at night. Others went right back to eating and grazing after giving birth. When Ty moved their calves, those cows hardly noticed.
“I bet the babies are still sad.” The tears that had welled up in the corners of her eyes spilled over. “Don’t they want their moms?” She leaned her head against Ty’s arm.
“Addie,” Ty said quietly. “Hey, hey.” He pulled his arm around her and held her close. With her face turned in toward him, he felt her hot breath against his shirt. “Shhhh.”
“Why isn’t Mommy coming back?” she cried, her voice muffled. “Doesn’t she want us anymore?”
Across the walkway, Walsh turned at the sound of Addie’s cries. She dropped the brush and ran to her sister. “Addie?” She craned her head to see Addie’s face, still buried in Ty’s side.
Ty closed his eyes and bumped his head against the wall behind him. He’d feared this moment, when his and Betsy’s breezy explanations of Jenna’s absence would fail them. And it had to happen when he was alone with them, without Betsy’s words to soothe the rough edges.
“Your mom is . . .” How did he explain to a five-and three-year-old that at that moment, he didn’t know exactly where their mom was or why she wasn’t at home. In Nashville. With the two of them.
“Are we going to stay here forever?” Addie looked up at him with wide, wet eyes, her nose red and running. Walsh’s little face was both cautious and curious. Alert.
He took a deep breath and blew the air out in a thin stream, thinking fast. “I think you can stay here as long as you need to. Then your mom will be back.”
Addie nodded, wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I like it here. But I miss Mommy.”
“I know you do. But you know what? I could use an extra helper around here. You see Mr. Carlos over there?” He pointed in Carlos’s direction. Addie nodded. “He’s not as good a helper as you are. Would it be okay if I ask for your help from time to time? Just for special projects? You too, Walsh.”
Addie nodded again, sniffed. Offered a small smile. Walsh grinned and bobbed her head up and down.
They heard a rustle, then one of the barn cats zipped through, chasing an unseen menace. Addie and Walsh both hopped off the bench and ran, chasing the cat and laughing. Ty exhaled. It was the grace of childhood that allowed kids to change course in a split second. He almost wished he could go back to that place where emotions and concerns only lasted until the next new thing came along. He knew the break was temporary, that the questions would come again the longer Jenna stayed away. He hoped the next time, he and Betsy would have a better idea of what to say to them. What to say to themselves.
With the girls distracted by the cat, he and Carlos finished the last group of cows and sent them out to pasture. Ty shooed the girls from the barn so they could clean up. On their way back to the yard, the girls spied Ty’s Gator parked under a shed. He promised
