They mounted their horses and rode off toward the herd in the unhurried fashion of men at work. My father didn’t turn to watch them go, but he waited for the sound of their hooves to recede before he spoke again.
—Sally, he said, using his I’m-going-to-say-this-once-and-only-once voice, there’s been no lying and there’s been no waiting. Charlie defaulted on his mortgage, the bank foreclosed, they put it up for sale, and I bought it. That’s all there is to it. It didn’t come as a surprise to anyone at the bank, it won’t come as a surprise to anyone in the county, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. Because that’s what ranchers do. When the opportunity presents itself and the price is right, a rancher will add to his land, contiguously.
—Contiguously, I said, impressed.
—Yes, he replied. Contiguously.
We stared at each other.
—So, in all those years that Mr. Watson struggled with the farm, you were too busy to lend a hand. But the moment the opportunity presented itself, your appointment book was clear. Is that about it? It sure sounds like lying and waiting to me.
For the first time, he raised his voice.
—Damn it, Sally. What did you expect me to do? Drive over there and take up his plow? Plant his seeds and harvest his crops? You cannot live another man’s life for him. If a man has got the least bit of pride, he wouldn’t want you to. And Charlie Watson may not have been a very good farmer, but he was a proud man. Prouder than most.
I gave the distance another thoughtful look.
—It is interesting, though, isn’t it, how even as the bank was getting ready to put the property on the market, you were sitting on the porch step, telling the son of the owner that maybe it was time for him to pick up stakes and make a fresh start somewhere else.
He studied me for a moment.
—Is that what this is about? You and Emmett?
—Don’t try to change the subject.
He shook his head again, like he had when I’d first arrived.
—He was never going to stay, Sally. Any more than his mother was. You watched it yourself. As soon as he could, he took a job in town. And what did he do with his first bit of savings? He bought himself a car. Not a truck or a tractor, Sally. A car. Though I have no doubt that Emmett grieved deeply for the loss of his father, I suspect he was relieved by the loss of the farm.
—Don’t talk to me about Emmett Watson like you know him so well. You don’t know the first thing that’s going through his mind.
—Maybe. But after fifty-five years in Nebraska, I think I can tell a stayer from a goer.
—Is that so, I said. Then tell me, Mr. Ransom: Which am I?
You should have seen his face when I said that. For a moment he went all white. Then, just as quickly, he went red.
—I know it’s not easy for a young girl to lose her mother. In some ways it’s harder on her than it is on the husband who’s lost his wife. Because a father is not equipped to raise a young girl in the manner she should be raised. But that is especially so when the girl in question is contrary by nature.
Here he gave me a good long look, just in case it wasn’t perfectly clear that he was talking about me.
—Many has been the night that I have knelt at the side of my bed and prayed to your mother, asking for guidance on how best to respond to your willfulness. And in all these years, your mother—God rest her soul—has not answered me once. So I have had to rely on my memories of how she cared for you. Though you were only twelve when she died, you were plenty contrary already. And when I would express my concern about that, your mother would tell me to be patient. Ed, she would say, our youngest is strong in spirit, and that should stand her in good stead when she becomes a woman. What we need to do is give her a little time and space.
It was his turn to look off in the distance for a moment.
—Well, I trusted your mother’s counsel then and I trust it now. And that’s why I have indulged you. I have indulged you in your manner and your habits; indulged you in your temper and your tongue. But Sally, so help me God, I have come to see that I may have done you a terrible disservice. For by giving you full rein, I have allowed you to become a willful young woman, one who is accustomed to nursing her furies and speaking her mind, and who is, in all likelihood, unsuited to matrimony.
Oh, he enjoyed delivering that little speech. Standing there with his legs apart and his feet planted firmly on the ground, he acted as if he could draw his strength straight from the land because he owned it.
Then his expression softened and he gave me a look of sympathy that served only to infuriate.