It was early morning, early enough that sun had just started to stir from her slumber. Soft rays of light crept over the land gently pushing back the nighttime darkness. As the world slowly prepared for the day ahead one man had already rubbed the sand out of his eyes and was hard at work.
He was old, but no one would be able to tell that from how he moved. Swiftly with much practiced motion he used his pitch fork to toss the last of the hay into the back of his truck. He paused for a moment and glanced up at the sky. Days of sweat and dirt drew hard lines on his face, but it wasn’t the sweat or the dirt that had made his blue eyes so cold and lifeless.
Nodding to himself he threw the pitch fork in with the hay and climbed into the driver’s seat. He leaned his head out the window and pursed his ever chapped lips, preparing to whistle. But his breath caught in his throat and he froze.
He closed his eyes for a moment then stiffly turned back towards the steering wheel. With a robotic likeness he turned on the truck. It came to life with a sputtering cough and with a trail of black smoke trailing behind him he drove off towards the fields.
It only took him about three minutes to arrive at the white fence which surrounded his cattle’s grazing land.
He hopped out of the truck and got to work tossing the hay over the fence.
The cattle lazed about, some still napping while others munched sleepily on the grass at their feet. The ones closest to the main road lifted their heads to watch a silver Jeep drive by. They blinked their large eyes slowly and returned to their deliberate chewing.
The old man turned to the road and watched with blank eyes as the car pulled up next to his truck and parked. The door swung open and a young woman stepped out onto the dusty ground. The sunlight shining down seemed to ignite her wild curls.
The old man stared at her with a bitter twist of his mouth, the lines of his face hardened as he stared her. For a second when she had stepped into the light he had forgotten.
She looks far too much like her mother now. He thought sullenly.
Reaching up he rubbed his calloused hand down his face trying to ease away the harsh set of his mouth as she approached.
“What is it, Mariah?” His voice was deep and scratchy from not being used. He coughed into his hand to clear it.
Mariah frowned and stomped over to him, her red hair bouncing wildly around her shoulders with the movement. “That’s not a very pleasant way to greet me dad!” she scolded, placing her hands firmly on her hips and staring him down with narrowed eyes. He stifled a sigh and rubbed his eyes as he listened. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in weeks! You never answered when I called and you never responded to my voicemails! I’ve been worried sick! And now I drive all the way out here to find you working! You promised me that you would hire someone to do all of the hard labor so you could get a break! What happened to that?” she finished with a huff and raised her eyebrows waiting for his response.
The sun had fully recovered from her nighttime disappearance and was sitting high in the sky, her blistering rays caused sweat to pool on his forehead. The slick sensation was irritating so he wiped his wrinkled face with his sleeve and ignored Mariah’s pointed frown as he did so.
He shifted and leaned against the side of his truck before answering. “No one was good enough.”
“Ridiculous.” She muttered crossing her arms and glaring at him, her blue eyes a mirror image of his own. The only thing about her that didn’t remind him of her mother. “Well what about ignoring my phone calls? Did you at least listen to any of the messages I left?”
