The dry plains drew Judy Proctor like a bear to her denor a moth to the flame. Ranching was her life. The sweat as she branded or “doctored” cattlethe howl of a coyote in the quiet, night air – half-frozen fingers as she cut the wire to loosen hay bales for hungry cattle scratching for survival in snow-covered landall of the everyday existence on the ranch was her life.
It was where she belonged.
It was a lonely life.
She had tried to leave the ranch to join the “normal” existence of a talented young woman in the city, but it had never been home. When her parents were killed in an automobile accident, she returned to the family ranch as much because she needed it as it needed her. She faced a lonely life to be shared with no better company than Somegood and Useless, her cow dog and the mottled mutt that were her companions.