With a tin cup of steaming coffee in hand, Roy Ledbetter stood in the doorway gazing across the prairie. The scene always captivated him; rolling straw colored grasslands ending abruptly against snow-capped mountains in the distance.

He could hear clinking sounds of Lucy cleaning the supper dishes, and Shane outside somewhere practicing on his harmonica. Occasionally there was laughter from the little ones wrestling in the back room. This was the dream he and Lucy had when they joined the wagon train in Ohio.

"Hey Lucy, looks like we’re gonna to have company.”

Lucy interrupted her dish washing and dried her hands on her apron. She brushed her blond hair back and joined Roy in the doorway. Slipping her arm around his powerful waist gave Lucy a secure feeling. She said, “Who do you reckon it is?”

“It’s a lone rider, and he ain’t comin’ from town... Most likely Zeke Waller .”

At first it was just a wisp of dust moving slowly across the prairie. Roy and Lucy moved to the front steps and sat down. Lucy kept her arm around Roy’s waist, and he put his arm around her. Firm bodies and healthy tanned complexions concealed the hard times they had endured in earlier years. Recent times had been prosperous, and they considered their life on the prairie better than riches.

“What’s Shane playing? It sure is pretty.” Roy said.

“It’s a waltz, Memories of Home.”

"Shane's special, ain’t he? I’m mighty proud of that boy.”

Gradually the horse and rider became clear enough to recognize. Roy said, with a trace of amusement in his voice, “It’s Zeke, ridin’ hard, so’s I reckon he’s got some new complaint.”

“My gracious,” Lucy said, “Zeke kicks up dust just for the fun of it. I don’t see how Pearl tolerates that man.”

Roy got up as Zeke dismounted from his sweaty horse. He thought Pearl Waller don’t have it half as hard as Zeke’s horse. He said, “Howdy Zeke, come sit for a spell.”

Shaggy black hair, heavy beard, dark complexion, and squinting eyes intensified Zeke’s scowl. Ignoring the offer to sit, Zeke unloaded a squirt of tobacco juice and said, “I jest came from the north range.”

Roy said, “Yep, Shane and me was up there near ‘bout all day.”

Zeke took his rumpled black hat and slapped it on his wrinkled breeches, creating a tiny dust cloud. “Figured you wuz the ones’ doin’ that diggin’.”

“Yep, that’s us all right.”

"Roy, you’re always doing something to aggravate a body.”

“Simmer down Zeke. We’re digging a well. Our cattle need water.”

“Jest what gives you the almighty right to go diggin’ on my range?”

“Your range! That’s open range country; it ain’t your range any mor’n it’s mine.”

“I settled here first.”

Lucy said, “Yawl set down on the porch, and I’ll warm up the coffee and bring out some bran cakes.”

Zeke didn’t hear Lucy , because he wasn’t listening to anybody but himself right then. “You gotta stop. Your dirt’s mess’n up the grass and cattle can’t draw water out of a well no way.”

Shane appeared from around the house, “What’s wrong, Pa?”

Without looking back, Roy said, “Zeke don’t like our well, but you let me handle this. Zeke, Shane and me are gonna build a windmill soons we strike water. The cattle won’t be hav’n to draw water. The windmill’ll draw it for ‘em.”

“Don’t need no water, don’t need no windmill, an’ it’s high time you learned to consult with your good neighbors afore you go mess’n’ up good rangeland.”

Roy's trace of amusement evaporated and he shouted, “If you wuz sech an all fired good neighbor you’d be a damnsight easier to deal with.”

Lucy asked, “How’s Pearl and the children, Zeke?”

“Fair to middling, ma’am... Roy, are you gonna to ‘pologize?”

“Ain’t nothin’ to ‘pologize for. When we hit water, you can use the water as well as anybody else.”

“A body can’t reason with you, Roy; you’re as stubborn as an old goat. An’ you Shane. You jest stay away from Zelda Mae from now on.”

Shane sucked in air and set his jaw. He was a handsome seventeen year old with a body like his father and blond hair like his mother. "Zelda Mae's purty, and she ain’t ornery like you.”

Lucy said, "Shane, watch your tongue. Don’t talk to Mr. Waller that’a way.”

“It’s all right ma’am. I know he don’t have no respect for his elders. Jest keep him away from my daughter, if you know what’s good for him.”

Roy said, "Shane's good enough for Zelda Mae, or anybody’s daughter.”

Zeke said, “She ain’t but sixteen and Shane's sneaking ‘round an’ fillin’ her head with hi-falut’n ideas. B’sides she’s got her chores.”

“Ain’t the well bother’n you, Zeke. You want’a make Zelda Mae an old maid spinster so she can wait on you hand and foot.”

"Roy Ledbetter, you jest stay out of my private affairs and you’ll live longer.”

Roy clinched his fist. “Zeke, you mind your business and I’ll mind mine an’ that’s all I’m gonna say ‘bout this. It’s best you leave now.”

“Dammit Roy, can’t nobody reason with you.” Zeke slapped his hat on his breeches again, plopped it on his head, and kicked the dusty path as he walked back to his horse. The sun was sinking over the mountains. The yellow and orange sunset cast long shadows of Zeke and his horse.

Turning around, Zeke growled, “My horse needs water.”

Roy said, "Shane, water Zeke’s horse.” Shane led the horse to the trough and Zeke followed.

Zeke’s dark eyes, deep-set and menacing, scanned Shane from head to toe. Finally, his horse raised its head and Zeke swung up in the saddle. Instead of riding off, he sat there rubbing his chin, like he wanted say something else. After a few seconds, he spit a stream of tobacco juice and pulled his horse around and rode away.

Early the next morning Roy and Shane rode to the north range in the cool and invigorating air. They liked to start work early, for it would be much warmer by mid morning. From a distance they saw a horse standing by the hole they had started for the well, but they didn’t see anyone. They dismounted and walked toward the hole. Suddenly, dirt flew out of the hole. Roy and Shane peered down into the hole and exchanged puzzled smiles.

Zeke was hacking with a shovel. “Jest like you Roy... pick the hardest damn spot in all of Montana.”

FOR SADIE ’S SAKE!

Deep in the hole, Zeke leaned on his shovel, spit on the side of the hole, and complained, "Shane, you ain’t movin’ fast enough. We ain’t never gonna finish if you don’t git a burr under your saddle.”

“I been workin’ circles ‘round you Mr. Waller. I can’t haul this dirt any faster’n you shovel it in the bucket.”

Roy said, “Lets rotate these jobs again. Shane'll dig awhile, I’ll pull the buckets up, and Zeke can haul the buckets to the gulch and dump um...”

Zeke dropped his shovel and started up the ladder, “ Roy, you jest quit orderin’ me around. I know how to run this job.” He stepped off the ladder, straightened his back, moaned, scratched his rear, and spit in the dust. “If it weren’t for my lumbago, I’d already finished this here well, in spite of you fellers’ loafin’ all the time.”

Work progressed in silence for a while. It was hot, and the distant prairie shimmered in the heat. Zeke’s lumbago slowed him considerably, and he let Roy know about it every time he came close.

On one trip, Zeke said, "Roy, I’ll knock off and go to town and git a wheelborrow. That’ll make this job a lot easier for you and Shane.”

“Wheelborrow’ll cost six, seve’ dollars, Zeke.”

“We’ll split the cost. I’m jest tryin’ to help you boys.”

“Reckon it would help.” Roy said.

Zeke considered the decision made, he looked at Shane down in the hole and said, “Don’t you slow down boy, jest ‘cause I ain’t gonna be here to watch you.”

“I’ll more’n likely strike water ‘fore you get back, Mr. Waller.”

“You got six or seve’ dollars on you, Roy?”

“I don’t carry no money out here. Jest tell Jubal to put half on my bill.

“Damn Roy, you don’t plan ahead a’tall, do you?” Zeke removed his battered hat, slapped it on his leg, and pulled out a soggy red bandana and swiped it across his brow. Another swipe across the chin got a smattering of the tobacco juice out of his beard. He un-hobbled his horse, saddled up, and rode off. 

Roy, muttered, “It’s worth half a wheelborrow jest to git a little peace and quiet.”

Zeke didn’t return that day, but he did have a wheelbarrow in his buggy the next morning.

Roy asked, “What’d it cost, Zeke?”

“Seve’ dollars.”

“Then Jubal put three-fifty on my bill, huh?”

“Hell Roy, I went and got it, had to use my buggy, weren’t nothing but fair I charged your bill for four dollars and mine three.”

Roy rubbed his chin and said, “All right Zeke, then I’ll jest keep the wheelborrow soons we finish, seeing I got the most invested in it.”

"Roy, you’re the hardest man ever wuz to deal with. Jest don’t give me a hard time when I need to use that wheelborrow.”

Zeke scowled, Shane stared at Zeke, and Roy smirked.

They were down sixty-five feet and four ladders were needed to climb in and out of the hole. Each ladder rested on a small landing dug out of the side of the hole. They pulled the buckets of dirt up with a hand-cranked winch mounted on a wooden frame.

Zeke’s voice echoed out of the hole, “I can’t work down here no more. I got me a bad case of clause-de-phobe.”

They rotated jobs again. After pulling up a few buckets of dirt, Zeke leaned on the winch and wheezed. When Roy got back with the empty wheelbarrow, Zeke said, “I best git to town and check Jubal’s prices on windmills.”

Roy sighed, “You do that Zeke, but don’t order nuttin, we might never strike water.”

Riding home that evening, Shane said, “Pa, Mister Waller always finds some excuse to quit early—it ain’t fair.”

“He works hard for awhile, then poops out, Shane. He’s jest not up to a full day for some reason, but he’d burn in hell afore he’d admit it to us. Jest pay him no never mind, he’s determined to be part of this project. He helps for a while, and that’s something.”

“Yeah Pa, but he’s bossy and he grumbles all the time. If he weren’t Zelda Mae’s Pa, I’d whomp’um with a shovel.”

“Jest pay him no never mind, Shane , he don’t mean all that, it’s jest his warped sense of humor.”

“If you say so, Pa. ” 

Two evenings later, Lucy met her two dirty and tired men at the porch. “Well, what wuz his excuse today?”

Roy sagged to the porch step. "Pearl's birthday, he said. He had to git home and make her happy.”

Lucy laughed, “Zeke surely would liven up a birthday party.”

“It is hard, Lucy. We hit solid rock today and not a sign of water. If I weren’t stubborn as an old goat, like Zeke says, I’d give that project up.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard. Yawl clean up, I got some good vittles for you. That’ll make you feel better.” 

For several days, Roy and Shane chipped on solid rock.

Zeke stood at the top of the hole and spouted a steady stream of “I told you so’s.”

"Roy, you got me into the biggest, dad-burnest, no account mess I’ve ever been in. We’ll bust into purgatory afore we hit water. I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, or this hell hole.” Zeke’s jaw jutted out and he muttered, “Tearing up my good rangeland, all for nuttin’.”

Mostly Roy ignored the abuse with no comment. Now and then he would say, “You can quit and go home to Pearl anytime you want to, Zeke.”

“I oughta do jest that.” But he never quit the project, or the grumbling.

The next day at noon, Shane climbed the ladder to eat the sausage and biscuits Lucy had fixed for lunch. He sat on the ground and leaned back on the wood frame. A lone heifer meandered up close. Her head was low in kind of a hangdog fashion, and it fixed soulful eyes on Shane.

Roy gave the heifer a name, "Sadie there is hankering for some of your sausage and biscuit, Shane.”

Shane replied, “Maybe she’s just anxious for us to strike water. I’ve heard tell cattle can smell water a mile away.”

Zeke said, “Well Sadie is dumber’n hell, cause this ain’t nuttin’ here but a dry hole.”

Shane said, “Just before I came up I busted a crack in the rock, and I’d swear it looked a mite dampish.”

Zeke jerked his head around, “You seein’ things, boy. There ain’t no water down there; it’s dryer'n hell all the way to Chiner.”

“Maybe the layer of rock is what’s holdin’ the water down.” Roy said.

Shane said, “Well I weren’t sure, maybe it jest looked that-a-way.”

Zeke ate fast and kept looking at Shane out of the corner of his eyes. After a bit, he abandoned his lunch and stood up. “Wellll, I’ll do some rock bustin’ for you fellers.”

Roy asked, “What about your lumbago, Zeke?”

"Pearl's been rubbing me with liniment. It’s better now.”

“What about your clause-to-phobe?”

“Mind over matter, Roy, I done cured myself.”

“I’m proud to hear you’re so improved. I bet ya’ll bust that rock out lickety-split.”

The hole was eighty feet deep and very dark at the bottom. Looking up, the top of the hole looked like a tiny spot of light. Every sound Zeke made echoed in the hole. When he didn’t make any sounds, the silence was spooky. The smell of dirt was pervasive. Zeke struck a match and lit a lantern. His pulse quickened. A tiny bit of water had oozed up around the crack Shane had made. Zeke stuck his finger in the crack and brought up a drop of water that he licked. He spoke in an excited, but subdued voice, “Merciful heaven, that’s the sweetest drop of water ever crossed my lips.”

He grabbed a sledgehammer and began to chip around the crack. Suddenly a little squirt of water came up. In his excitement, Zeke spit out his tobacco, and made one mighty swing with the sledge and—WHOOOOSH! A head-sized chunk of rock shot straight up propelled by a column of water the same size as the rock. The hole filled rapidly.

Roy and Shane were at the top of the hole when they heard a muffled “whoooosh” and at the same instant, “HEEELP! HEEELP! I can’t swim! Lord... I’m coming... I’m coming home to the promised land... saaave my worthless soul, Lord!”

Roy yelled, “Grab the rope to the bucket, Zeke.”

Zeke tumbled around amongst ropes and ladders in the swirling muddy water. Somehow he managed to keep his head up, which allowed nonstop appeals to the Lord for salvation.

The Lord surely heard him above all the commotion, because the waters calmed abruptly. The inrush stopped at the fifty-foot level. Zeke grabbed the nearest ladder and scrambled out, but not before rescuing his hat which was floating around in circles.

He climbed out of the well. He was bedraggled and oozed dirty grey water from head to toe like a loaded sponge. His dripping hat drooped down around his head. Water dripped from his beard. He pushed his jaw forward and with a sheepish grin said, “I done it boys—I done it proper.”

Shane threw his hat up in the air and hollered, “Yaw hoo!”

Roy grinned from here to sundown, “I never seen you smile before, Zeke. Don’t it hurt?”

Sadie said, “Mooooooo.”

TOWER OF BABBLE

The day after they struck water Roy and Zeke met at Jubal's General Merchandise to order a windmill.

The two gentlemen bickered for an hour over the hardware catalog. Zeke complained about everything Roy picked out. They got louder and louder and Jubal was having trouble dealing with other customers.

When Jubal couldn’t stand it any longer, he walked over to the counter, put his finger on one of the windmill pictures, and said, “This'n the best boys, and it’s the only one I’m gonna let you order.” With that, he slammed the catalog shut, and said, “Now, both of you, git!”

Zeke complained, “I’ve talked myself blue in the face trying to git Roy to pick that un.”

“You did no sech... ah, never mind. Let us know when it gits here, Jubal.”

Roy and Zeke started through the store. Roy said, “We’ll split the cost, Zeke.”

“Dagnabbit, there you go again, Roy. You’ve got more cattle then me. You oughta pay two-thirds and me one-third. Fairs fair, Roy .”

“The well is closer to your place then it is mine. I say fifty-fifty.”

Zeke answered, “No, no. You’re bamboozling me again.”

Jubal butted in. “I told you boys to git. Now GIT!”

Roy and Zeke moved to the front porch. They could still be heard from inside the store for the next twenty minutes. When they saw Jubal come to the door, they moved off the porch and argued their way down the street to where Roy’s horse was tied.

Finally Roy said, “I’ll pay half the cost and that’s all I’m going to say about it.” He mounted his horse and rode away. Zeke glared at Roy as he rode away, then he mumbled as he stomped off toward his horse.

Roy and Shane built an oak platform over the well. This prevented thirsty animals from accidentally falling in. It would also be the base for the windmill.

Jubal had the windmill delivered to the well site on a large mule-driven wagon. After opening the boxes, Shane said, “There’s a blue zillion parts here, Pa. ”

Zeke said, “Don’t git in an uproar, boy, I’ll keep you straight.”

The parts were numbered and Roy found the first four parts that formed the base of the tower and bolted them onto the platform. Shane and Zeke started bolting the tower parts together. Shane said, "Mr. Waller, that piece goes in the next section.”

“Think I don’t know that boy, I’m jest way ahead of you, that’s all.”

Shane didn’t say anymore, he just re-bolted the pieces that were in the wrong place.

The tower began to take shape. When it reached about fifteen feet, Roy handed the pieces to Shane to carry up to Zeke, for him to bolt them in place. Shane shinned up and down the tower like he had done it all his life. The way Zeke wrapped his arms around the structure it was obvious his first priority was self-preservation and work had a much lower priority. He kept dropping his wrench, and Shane would go down after it. By the time they were twenty feet high, Shane was carrying the pieces up and bolting them in place and Zeke only watched with bulging eyes—and fussed, of course.

After a while, Zeke carefully let himself down, spit a stream over the platform that kicked up a little ball of dust, and said, “I’ll start putting the windmill blades together.

Roy said, “They gotta go a certain way, Zeke.”

“You’re always bossin’, Roy, I know about these blades. You jest leave me be.”

Roy said, “When we git this built, let’s bring the families out for a dedication picnic.”

“I’d already thought of that, my-own-self, Roy .”

RECOGNITION BY ACCLIMATION

As the buggy topped the last rise, Lucy could see the windmill for the first time. “Oh, how purty. Black with red trim. You didn’t tell me it was painted.”

Roy said, "Jubal's best, the main thing though, there’s lots of good water. It’ll save our cattle havin’ to traipse all the way to Lost Creek.”

Little John, hanging on to Roy's shoulders asked, “Can we climb to the top, Pa?”

“I reckon…”

Lucy interrupted, “No! You’ll fall and break your neck.”

Shane, riding his horse beside the buggy, said, “You can see most forever from the top, Ma.”

They had just stopped their buggy when Zeke’s buggy with his family appeared over the opposite rise.

Zelda Mae waved and Lucy noticed Shane blush and smile broadly.

Little Zeke and Pearlette jumped down from the back of the buggy before it stopped. Little Zeke went straight for the tower and started climbing. Pearl hollered for him to come down, but he kept climbing.

Zeke said, “You spoiled that boy rotten, Pearl, he don’t mind a’tall.”

Little Zeke reached the top and hollered, “Look at me, Ma.” In two seconds, he was on his way back down.

Zelda Mae hopped down from the back of the buggy. She walked over to Shane and smiled as she lightly punched him in the belly with her fist. He grinned bigger than ever. She was stunning with her black hair, brown eyes, and suntanned cheeks. Her clean calico dress was freshly ironed and her high button shoes were worn, but well polished.

Shane said, “You’re purty as a June Bug, Zelda Mae .”

“I know it, Shane. You’re a sight for sore eyes, yourself.”

Lucy said, “Howdy Pearl, how’re you and the chil’ern?”

“Cept for my bunions and Zeke’s lumbago, we’ll make it to judgment day, Lord willin’.”

Roy primed the pump and said, “Gather ‘round everybody. The windmill’s ready to go. We wanted everybody here when we start it for the first time.”

Zeke said, "Roy, you’re always makin’ speeches, I’ll jest let go this rod and we’ll watch water spurt out of that pipe yonder.” He pulled the lever that braked the windmill.

There was a slight breeze and with a low clattering sound, the windmill began to turn. There was a chorus of yahoos with the little ones joining in the loudest.

They all gathered around to watch the water come out of the pipe. They could hear hissing sounds, and they expected it might take a minute for the pipe to fill up. But a minute passed, then two. The hissing changed to sucking, but no water poured out. Roy and Shane looked at each other and frowned.

Zeke took his hat off and scratched his head. "Roy, after all my hard work on this here windmill, you done gauld it up somehow.”

Shane put his hand over the end of the pipe and said, “Pa, this ain’t gonna pump water, it’s sucking air.”

Roy looked at the shaft coming from the windmill and said, “No wonder, the damn thing is turning back’ards.”

Zeke said, “I ain’t surprized Roy, you do everything ass-back’ards. Beats all I’ve ever seen. You got yourself in this mess an’ I ain’t gonna help you straighten it out. You’ll jest have to figure it out without me.”

Roy pulled the brake lever and stopped the windmill. He and Shane looked up at the blades. He and Shane muttered and rotated their wrists back and forth as if their hands were the blades of the windmill. Roy finally said, “That’s it, the blades are all bolted on back’ards. We’ll have to climb up there and change um.”

Zeke said, “I’m hungry, I’m gonna start eatin’ while those boys fix the mess they got themselves in.” He spit a stream of tobacco juice worthy of a project manager. "Pearl, you and Lucy get them vittles spread out.”

Roy and Shane were intent on getting tools, and they ignored Zeke’s comments. Shane took off his shirt and threw it on the oak platform. He carefully climbed the tower in a way that would best display his mighty biceps and back muscles. He suppressed a self-satisfied a smile when he imagined he heard Zelda Mae gasp.

At the top, they found the blade bolts had been forced severely in order to mount them backwards. They had to take each blade off and remount it.

Zeke reached over Pearl’s chicken and put four pieces of Lucy’s chicken on his plate. “Looks awful greasy, Pearl’s chick’n is best there is... never greasy... ask Pearl, Lucy, she’ll tell how to do it.”

Pearl giggled, “Lands sakes, I don’t like to brag, but reckon I can fix chick’n good enough for a king.”

Zeke scooped up a double serving of Lucy’s potato salad. “Git Pearl’s recipe for tater salad, too, Lucy. She wins blue ribbons everywhere she goes with her tater salad.”

Pearl said, “How you do go on, Honey, but I gotta admit, I do make the best tater salad you ever put in your mouth.”

Lucy and Pearl fixed plates for the little ones. Lucy said, “I’ll wait and eat with Roy and Shane.”

Pearl said, “I’ll wait with you.” But she was nibbling at a furious pace.

Zelda Mae just stood and gazed up at Roy and Shane, or maybe Shane and Roy, or maybe just Shane. Shane was keenly aware of the special attention, and he carefully avoided any moves that might be embarrassing. On the way down, he swung smoothly from angle iron to angle iron, and for the final ten feet he swung out to land in front of Zelda Mae. His manly smile turned into wall-eyed tomato-colored panic when he realized the whole rear end of his britches was not in his possession for all of the last grand swing. The mutinied patch of britches waved gently in the breeze from a bolt up on the windmill frame. It seemed to be saying, “Look at me.”

When Zeke heard giggles and laughter he looked up from his drumstick and said, “What? What?”

Roy climbed down and handed Shane the patch from his britches with a fatherly smile.

Shane backed over to his shirt, tied the arms around his waist, and was careful for the rest of the day to keep his shirt from flapping in the breeze.

Roy primed the pump again and said, “It’ll work now.”

The little ones were running all over the prairie and had lost interest in the windmill, but the adults gathered around the pipe again. Roy pulled the brake lever and almost immediately, gurgling could be heard in the pipe. Then a large stream of muddy water spurt out and splattered in the deep dust.

In the excitement Zelda Mae took advantage of the occasion to plant a big kiss on Shane's cheek, causing his face to glow a cherry red. Zeke didn’t see them, because he was waiting with his tin cup for the water to flush the pipe and clear up. After all, who better deserved the first drink from the well?

Everyone was fascinated with the stream of water and stood silent for a minute, as if in a trance.

Finally, Zeke straightened up, expanded his chest and spit a spectacular squirt of tobacco juice skyward. It got caught in the breeze and sailed about twenty feet. “This here windmill is near about the best id’ie I ever had.”

He was oblivious to the stern glares of all those present. Everyone that is, except Pearl, she was bursting with pride and admiration for the genius she had married.

ACCEPTING DEFEAT GRACEFULLY

Roy and Zeke argued about whether to buy or build the water container for the cattle to drink from. They argued about how big it should be, where it should be located, which side the sun come up on, where the moon set, and who shot Abraham Lincoln. 

Zeke said, "He was sumpt-to-nuther like Paul Revered." 

Roy said it was no such thing, it was a sorry scoundrel named Wilkerson. "I know that much." Roy proudly added.

Lucy watched in amazement and mumbled, "John Wilkes Booth." Roy and Zeke stared at her in disbelief. With a smug expression, she turned to gather up her empty dishes. 

Pearl put her leftovers in a bushel basket. It pleased her that she would not have to cook supper.

Zeke said, “Load up Pearl, let’s git back home. Where’s Zelda Mae?” After looking around, “WHERE’S SHANE? DAG NABBIT Pearl, I told you to watch watch um?”

Lucy said, “I’m sure they’re all right, Zeke.”

“FIND UM! FIND UM NOW!”

Roy, Lucy, and Pearl fell in behind Zeke, who hipped and hopped as he tried to walk fast in his dilapidated boots. The little ones had heard Zeke’s outburst and were trotting along in case something exciting happened. In the distance they could hear Shane's harmonica and topping a rise, they found Shane and Zelda Mae sitting close together on a boulder.

Zeke shouted, “You git away from her... I might have to whup you, boy.”

Roy said, “Simmer down, Zeke, they ain’t doin’ nuttin’.”

Shane stood up. “Mister Waller, I was fixin’ to talk to you private like, but seeing how you are making sech a fuss, I’ll jest come right out with it in front of everybody.”

“Don’t say nuttin’ you’ll regret, boy... your life’s hanging by a thread now.”

"Mister Waller, I’m ah askin’ you for Zelda Mae's hand with the purpose of matrimonial bliss in mind.”

Zelda Mae was radiant.

“HOT DAMN! I done told you to stay away from her.” Zeke grabbed his hat and slammed it down in the dust. He jumped straight up and came down on his hat. The squashed hat was lost in a doughnut of dust that rose as high as his knees.

Little Zeke screeched with delight and started doing a war dance around Zeke. The other little ones joined him, laughing and whooping like little Indians.

Zeke took big swipes at Little Zeke’s rear, but he was not agile enough to come close. Little Zeke would look over his shoulder and wiggle his rear at Zeke. Every time Zeke took a swing at him, he screamed, “Ya, Ya, Ya... and laughed. Pearlette was twisting her little rear, imitating Little Zeke, she would scream one “Ya.” and then her giggle box would take over. The other little ones were hysterical too.

Zeke shouted, "Pearl, you’ve raised the orneriest brat in all creation; if I ever catch um, I’ll squash um like a tater bug.”

Pearl said, “Yeah honey, but he’s cute, ain’t he?” She turned to Zelda Mae and said, “Darlin’, I’ll make you the purtiest dress ever wuz, and we’ll have a church weddin’ Montana won’t never forget.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

Zeke swallowed his tobacco and started choking. The little ones ran off laughing, leaving Zeke to recover alone. He overcome his tobacco crisis and walked back with a very dark and mean look. He picked up his flat hat out of the dust and beat it on his breeches to get it back in shape, and empty some of the dust from it.

Roy was uncomfortable; he couldn’t decide whether to keep quiet or say something. After a long silence, he said, “You know, now that this windmill’s here, it’ll make a good home site for a new couple.” He pointed, “Sorta like over on that rise, maybe.”

Zeke stopped beating on his hat and glared at Roy. Black hair and heavy black beard framed sparkling eyes that looked like they were back in a cave. Finally speaking slow and gruffly, he said, "Roy, you don’t know a damn thing about pickin’ good home sites. I’ll pick it.” He slowly turned around one complete turn and pointed at the rise Roy had first pointed at and grumbled, “That’s where it oughta be... you’ll learn someday, Roy, if you’ll jest stay by me long enough.”

EMOTIONAL RELEASE

Shane rode his horse beside the buggy on the way home. Lucy was lost in her thoughts; she could not decide whether to laugh or cry. The little ones were asleep on the hard boards in the back of the buggy. Roy spoke first. "Shane, I shore hope you know what you’re doin’.”

“I’ve thought it through real careful like, Pa. I love Zelda Mae so much I’m near bout to bust—jest like you love Ma.”

“I jest don’t want a pretty face to stand in the way of horse sense, son.”

Lucy said, “Leave him be, Roy, he’s gotta make his own way.”

Roy said, “Yeah, I know, but… Well, I was jest studying on our grandson. I jest know he’ll be born with coal black hair, dark eyes, and a bushy black beard—probably a chaw of tobac’er in his mouth.”

Shocked and disapproving, Shane glanced at Roy, spurred his horse, and rode on ahead.

Lucy demanded, "Roy Ledbetter! Stop this buggy this instant, I’m gonna get out and walk.”

Buggies and horses were randomly parked all around the church. The church windows were open, but it was still hot inside. All the ladies, dressed in their Sunday best, were taking advantage of the printed fans donated by “Goddard's - A Friend To The End - Mortuary.”

Some of the men had adopted the custom of waiting outside during these momentous occasions. It was cooler and they would sit with friends on a bench under the cottonwood tree and whittle. Staying outside, they would not have to button up their collars, and anyhow, the entertainment of church weddings had played out with them years ago.

The foot pump organ began playing, and muffled sounds of people talking in the church ceased. Cedric looked up from his whittling, “Brace yo’selves, boys, Mabell Foster is gonna start singin’ ‘Here comes the bride’... Yeeep, there she goes.”

Walter said, “She surely must’a took lessons from a screech owl.”

Billy Lee said, “Boys, Mabell is my cousin, but at times like these, I do hate to admit it.”

Walter said, “Sorry, Billy Lee, if I’d know’d she was your cousin, I wouldn’t of said nuttin’ bout her screechin.”

“It’s all right; kind’a hurts my ear drums, too.”

After the organist and Mabell got music out of their systems, it was quiet for a while. The men begin to talk about cattle, rain, and the sheriff’s election.

Cedric said, “Listen! Quit your jawing, boys. Some woman’s bawlin’ to beat hell.”

Billy Lee said, “Sure as hell is… I’ve got cattl’ that don’t bawl that loud.”

Walter muttered, “Myyyy God!”

Cedric said, “Hell, that don’t sound like no woman… it sounds like… damn if it ain’t, that’s Zeke Waller bawlin’... sure as shootin’.”