Randa saw John’s jaw clench.
“Randa, I just don’t think that’s the case. I have one major motto in my life and that’s ‘no excuses.’ I love my Mom, but she cheated on my Dad and broke her marriage vows. She betrayed him. There’s absolutely no excuse for that. She was being selfish.”
Randa simply nodded her head. As much as she could feel compassion and empathy for people who made mistakes, John made a very good point.
“It is what it is,” she mumbled.
“Yes, it is my dear, but hey, let’s go have some fun! I packed a picnic basket complete with some cherry pie for us. I thought that we might find a nice, grassy spot in the shade under a huge oak tree and have lunch if you would like.”
“Yum! Cherry pie and peaceful surroundings are two of my favorite things.”
Walking up to a saddled horse tied to the corral, John introduced Randa to Majesty.
“She’s a beautiful animal,” Randa observed as she reached out to touch the white patch on the mare’s face. Majesty whinnied at her. Randa and John burst out laughing.
“Yes, she is and she seems to know it.” John walked over to the other horse and stroked its mane. “This is Ben. He’s another one of my favorites, so I’m going to ride him. Come here though, I want to show you someone.”
Randa followed John into the barn and he explained, “For my very first Christmas here on the ranch, my Dad gave me a horse. I named him Cherokee because prior to moving here, I always thought that Indians were the dominate culture in Oklahoma from all of the stories I had heard.”
Randa giggled. “I always thought that Fort Worth was full of cowboys until I went there.”
John walked up to a pen. On top of hay sat an older horse that looked up eagerly when John spoke his name while introducing him to Randa. “Cherokee is 32 years old now, which is quite old for a horse. Fox lets him out to pasture daily, but he generally stays in the barn at night.”
“Oh my goodness. Hello Cherokee,” Randa said sweetly to the horse.
After a few moments, John grabbed her hand and they walked out of the barn. “I hate it that he’s so old now. Every year that he is still alive, I am thankful.”
Randa nodded solemnly. They each untied their respective reins and John opened the gate and led the way through it. Randa took the reins over Majesty’s head and she placed her hands on the saddle horn. Sticking her boot into the stirrup, she pulled herself up and swung her right leg over to the opposite side of the horse. Majesty was calm and stood motionless letting Randa quickly gain confidence. John climbed up onto his horse and pulled on the reins to his left. Ben started walking. John looked back over his shoulder at Majesty and made a ‘follow me’ motion with his head. Randa left enough slack in the reins and the horse began following Ben. To Randa, it felt good to be riding. Gazing at John, she silently remarked to herself how especially handsome he looked wearing a Stetson cowboy hat. He hadn’t worn one the previous evening at the party and he was just as good-looking then with his thick dark brown hair. It was the perfect length with plenty of it for her to run her fingers through, but not long enough to look unkempt. John had such a sexy strapping presence about him. With wide shoulders, he was a seemingly big man. He must be about 6’1” she guessed and weigh about 190 pounds. The feature of John’s that Randa liked most was his eyes, which were the unique, beguiling blue. They twinkled and seemed to draw her in deeper each time she looked into them.
Majesty took off in a trot for a moment to get beside Ben and Randa squealed in joy. She forgot what an exhilarating thrill riding horses could be. John looked over with a big grin.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I am wonderful,” Randa laughed, reaching down to caress Majesty’s soft coat.
They reached an open gate and up ahead, lay a lush green pasture. “Let’s go then,” John said as he gave Ben a slight nudging on his underside with his Justin boot. He didn’t wear spurs when he was riding for pleasure. There was simply no need for them. Ben took off galloping. Randa gave Majesty a nudge also and she took off galloping lightly and caught up with Ben easily. John looked over at Randa whose long hair was blowing lightly in the wind. He wanted to reach over and touch it. Take it in his hands, between his fingers, feeling its lushness. What a wonderful morning, John reflected. It had been a while since he did something on the ranch just for pleasure and it felt so good.
After riding for quite some time and crossing through many pastures, John slowed Ben to a walk and looked at the herd of cattle that they were approaching. The fleshy, full-bellied black cattle were busy grazing and only stopped momentarily to glance at their owner and his companion.
“Those are certainly healthy, sleek-looking cattle you’ve got John.”
“They are in excellent condition. Fox did the spring vaccinations, which included a wormer about six weeks ago, so they have lost their winter coats and have slicked-off very nicely. It definitely makes a difference not only in their hair, but on their insides too.”
“Are they purebreds?” Randa asked
“Yep, they are registered purebreds. When Dad purchased our ranch, no animals were included in the cost. Wanting to stock the ranch with quality beef cattle, he decided on Black Angus after a lot of market research and because he just really liked their look. Fox found out about Bullrich, a ranch in Southwestern Oklahoma. The patriarch of that ranch, a gentleman by the name of Daniel Doss, was a giant in the beef industry for many years. He had started out with the goal of becoming an attorney when he enrolled in college, but he changed his mind after reading in the newspaper about a nearby college’s beef judging team winning a national championship. Since he grew up on a cattle ranch, he was already quite knowledgeable about cattle. Seeing the possibilities of winning a national championship excited him greatly, so he transferred to that college, changed his major, and subsequently earned a spot on the judging team. After graduating in the 1930’s, he began raising, breeding, and selling cattle in the midst of the depression starting with three mother cows that he bought with a loan. He was able to foresee the future needs of the cattle industry for a continually improving beef cow and thus he began ‘line-breeding’ his Angus cattle.”
Randa looked at John puzzled.
John was happy to explain. “Say we have a bull with phenomenal growth statistics. We worry that the next generation will be watered down from their outstanding parent, and indeed, each successive generation away from that individual dilutes the genetics by another half. Calves are 50% of their father, but then those calves’ calves are only 25% of their grandfather, and their calves are only 12.5% of our now great-grandfather, and soon it seems, that wonderful package of genetics is dissipated.” John continued, “Enter line-breeding. Actually, it’s an ancient breeding tool having been used all during our human history. When you have a truly outstanding animal that is superior compared to the rest of the herd, you would want to emulate his strengths in the offspring, thus eventually creating an exceptional herd, one that results in economic success through producing more consistent results down the line to ensure long-lasting genetic value and profitability. The one disadvantage is that while capturing his premium genetics, you will also likely magnify either parent’s undesirable, recessive traits if he or she has any. But by culling the offspring that express the unwanted trait, and by culling the parents as soon as you can spare them, it is possible to eventually and completely remove the recessive gene for that trait from the line.”
“Doesn’t that create inbreeding?” Randa asked.
“It’s not inbreeding as long as they are only half-siblings. By starting with half-siblings, out of otherwise unrelated lines, they can be bred forward endlessly, and still stay at 50%. Anytime the percentage of any one animal goes over 50%, you are inbreeding; by definition, line-breeding will never take you higher than 50%.”
“How very interesting. It all makes perfect sense,” Randa said of the explanation, which was actually simple.
“Anyway, Mr. D
oss took different strains of Black Angus cattle and streamlined them to create a superior bloodline which he named Stainnes. After many years of very hard work, his herd became world-renowned. Time after time, his bulls broke world records at test stations for growth and weight gain. In 1979, he had the first bulls worldwide to gain 4 pounds per day.”
“Wow, how innovative. I’m impressed.”
‘Yes,” John continued. “The influence of his Stainnes cattle is so prevalent in the Angus breed that there are likely few cattle in existence without a shot of Stainnes in their bloodlines.”
“So how do test stations work?” Randa asked.
“Test stations are set up at either various colleges with strong agricultural programs or at private facilities. A 112-day test is pretty standard. Bulls are generally fed twice a day in self-feeders or fence-line bunkers. The object of the test is to identify which bulls gain the most weight. They are usually weighed intermittently and one final time at the end of the test.”
“Do you send bulls to test?”
“Our ranch does every year and every year our bulls are top performers, though we’ve never broken any world records like Mr. Doss did. No other breed beats Black Angus bulls on overall test though.”
“Hmmm. While growing up, parents of some of my friends ranched, but I never knew any of them who did these kinds of things.”
John was thrilled that Randa was interested in the cattle. “It costs a lot of money to be in the purebred business and that’s one reason why all cattlemen aren’t in it. Another reason is the amount of record keeping. Mr. Doss’s cattle became the foundation of so many herds. Needless to say, my father was able to afford the best, so he and Fox made a trip to Bullrich and purchased a bull and some heifers. Being very pleased with his purchases and their subsequent production, they made additional trips to the ranch. I got to go on most of those trips. Mr. Doss was married to a wonderful and very classy lady. They were the perfect team, he being so knowledgeable and smart and she possessing the ability to make everyone feel welcome and important.” John paused, “besides, she always loved to see me,” he said as he winked.
Randa laughed and winked back at him.
“Mr. Doss was five years older than his wife. Last summer, the ranch foreman called us to say that Mr. Doss had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital. The next morning, Mrs. Doss suffered a stroke and was admitted to the same hospital. Mr. Doss was taken in a wheelchair to his wife’s room to see her. Later that evening she passed away. The next afternoon, Mr. Doss died. Everyone who knows them always echo the same sentiment, ‘that he just didn’t want to live without her and he simply died of a broken heart.’ Side by side in life. Side by side in eternity.”
“What a wonderful story John. I imagine that it would have been a true pleasure knowing them.”
“It was. They were both special people and definitely one of a kind. Every time that I came home from being on the Slope, I went to visit them. They were not only mentors to our ranch, they were also my friends. I miss them. Of course, I am so glad that Dad bought cattle from them in the beginning. The Stainnes bloodline contributes greatly to the continued success of our ranch.”
“I would have loved living here. As close as I got to this was when I visited my grandparents. Growing up here must have been simply a dream,” Randa said while gazing in the distance.
“It was. I got to enjoy so many different things. I caught my first fish, a perch, when I was four years old. I was hooked on fishing after that. Pretty much going every day from then on, if the weather permitted it and my Mom would let me. I spent so many lazy summer days sitting on the pond or creek bank with my fishing pole in my hand. I hunted some. In fact, my Dad, Fox, and I still go Elk hunting in Colorado every year. That is one tradition that has never been broken, though I think it’s more about we men being away from civilization and ‘being men’ than about the hunting,” John said laughing. “I was given numerous chores on the ranch which I complained about, but I learned to work hard for everything that I got and I didn’t become lazy or spoiled. Fox taught me how to do many things from repairing tractors, to taking care of cattle, to building a barn. Shoot, the largest barn that we have was built one spring when my Dad came in from the Slope. He, Foxy, and I built it all except for the roof. I have always thought that my Dad was the greatest man who ever lived and I still do. He started with nothing other than the firm resolve to succeed and he took it and went to the brutal North Slope. He just thought of a great idea and he ran with it. His belief in it was the launching pad for his business. He became extremely successful and continues to be, expanding and buying additional companies. I admire him greatly. I am trying to live up to his high expectations and make him proud of me,” John paused, reflecting on what he just said.
“Gosh, I kind of got off of the subject, didn’t I?”
“No, I love it. You tell great stories,” Randa said. John’s rich, strong voice kept her hanging onto his every word.
“But to answer your question, yes, it was wonderful growing up here. Now how about we ride up to the top of that hill over there?” John said pointing to the south, “and see if we can scout a place for lunch?”
“Great!”
“Wait a minute. I know the perfect spot instead. I can’t believe that I forgot all about it. Come this way,” John said as he turned to the southwest and nudged Ben to take off.
Chapter Eleven
Turning to the west, they crossed over another hill and came to the edge of a wooded area. “Whoa,” John directed Ben. “Let’s leave the horses here,” he said to Randa as he got off his horse.
“Okay,” Randa replied and dismounted Majesty. She copied what John was doing and tied the reins around a tree.
Unpacking the saddlebags, which contained the things they needed for their lunch, John looked over at her and smiled. “How are you doing lovely lady?” he asked.
Randa replied, “This is so much fun John! It’s the perfect escape from work.”
“I got the impression that songwriting is your passion and it makes you flourish.”
Randa laughed, “I love that word John. Flourish. Well, my work is my life and there is nothing sweeter than getting paid to do what you love and are good at, but as with most anything, there are drawbacks.”
“What would that happen to be?”
“I don’t care for the business side of it, as in the usual legal and financial aspects which must be tended to properly. Numbers and legal jargon aren’t my forte, creating is. But Taylor finally convinced me to employ professionals to take care of those things, and I’m so glad I did.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that Randa. Things that I don’t know and don’t have the time or desire to learn, I hand over to the pros too. One of the keys to being successful is to surround yourself with people smarter than you, aka the ‘experts’ in their respective fields. Too many people feel threatened by others who are bright, but they shouldn’t as long as they are at the top of their game and taking care of business.”
“You make a great point. It has definitely allowed me the luxury of just getting back to the basics of writing songs like in the good ole days, feeling things in my spirit, my heart and my soul and creating beautiful or fun or dramatic or sad lyrics, whichever it may be.”
John handed Randa the blanket and followed the nearby path, which led into the woods. She followed him closely through the thicket wondering where they were going. While leading the way, John held the tree limbs back, so that Randa could pass by safely and wouldn’t be slapped by them.
John stopped and stood still. “Do you hear it?”
Randa stopped and listened. She heard the faint sounds of water running and smiled. John walked forward. Up ahead lay a creek. As they got closer, Randa could hear the sound of water gently flowing over the rocks. John found a couple of large flat rocks sitting side by side near the water’s edge. “It’s not a grassy spot under a tree, but I thought you might enjoy this spot more,” he
told her. Even though tall trees surrounded them, the sunlight was shining down through them, giving everything an enchanting golden glow.
“It is tranquil,” Randa laughed as she spread the blanket over the rocks. “You seem to have knack for picking out serene spots.”
“I guess I do, don’t I?” John laughed. “But that is one great thing that we have in common, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is! There is just something so magical about the things that nature does like water flowing, the wind blowing, lightning bolts striking, thunder roaring, and snowflakes falling. All of these things touch our senses. If we just be still and hear the water bubbling, feel the wind against our skin and blowing through our hair, see the sparkle of the lightning bolt and let it light up our eyes, hear the thunder as it roars, taste the cold pureness of snowflakes as they fall onto our tongues, it can be so wondrous. I enjoy it when Mother Nature exercises her options. The wind is my favorite. When it doesn’t blow, things seem to become stale and stagnant, but when it gusts, it makes things feel alive and fresh! I love to just sit on my back porch when it is cold at night while the wind is blowing hard. I wrap up in blankets and savor the delightfulness of it all.”
Oh how I like this woman! So many people were just wrapped up in themselves and material possessions. It was too easy to get caught up in stuff and lose your true self. John enjoyed nice things as much as anyone else did, but he knew what the truly important things in life were. Being wealthy afforded him almost anything that he could possibly want, but he did not receive fulfillment from possessing things, he received it from putting in a hard day’s work and being filled with pride at his achievements. Success and an appreciation for the blessing of simply being alive, being healthy, and having food and shelter were the basis of his core. Randa, well, Randa was so full of life. She took everything in with all five senses. She was down-to-earth and yet so polished and so real.
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