Calder leaned close to her at the barn door. The wind was so loud she could barely hear him even at that distance. Listen, he said, "When we get to the pasture, I need you on the far left flank. Don't try to push them. Don't run at them.
You're a boundary. You're just there so they can't go left. You understand? I understand. If you can't see me, don't move toward where you think I am.
Stay on your line. If you move blind, you'll get turned around and I won't be able to find you. Called her. She put her hand on his arm through all the layers, and she felt him register it. I understand.
Let's go. The walk to the south pasture gate was the longest/4 mile she had ever covered. The rope ran out after the barn, which meant the second half was navigated by landmarks that were mostly invisible, and by Calder's internal cuss, which was apparently very good because they hit the gate post. Exactly. She could hear the cattle before she could see them.
The particular low, anxious sound of animals that know something is wrong and have been standing in it for hours without anyone coming. The gate was iced at the latch. Calder got it open with his shoulder after two attempts. She followed him through. The yearlings were bunched at the south fence, the instinctive cluster of prey animals in a threat situation.
Eight of them pressed together for warmth and probably for the last 2 hours growing more panicked as the storm it's intensified. Even in the reduced visibility she could see they were agitated, shifting weight, heads moving. This a subtle body language of animals that are 30 seconds from bolting in a random direction. If they bolted in a white out, some of them would run into the fence at full speed. Some would find the gate.
Some would simply disappear into the storm. And she had no idea what lay beyond the south boundary. Left flank, Calder said, close to her ear. She went left. She walked steadily, not fast, not threatening, placing herself at the corner of the fence where the animals couldn't swing that direction without running into her.
The wind was directly in her face from this angle, and she could barely breathe through the scarf. But she kept her feet moving and her body still, just a presence, just a boundary. She heard Emmett's horse somewhere in the white, the sound of hooves, the animals own nervous breathing. Calder was moving to the right. She could hear him talking to the cattle in the low continuous voice that experienced handlers use.