whistle while we work } zori

Willow Ann Lexington

Willow Ann spent years getting into a steady rhythm. She woke before sunrise that morning, something ten years prior would have seemed a miracle. By the time her son Nat was grumbling out of bed, she was whistling along in the kitchen, radio crackling with music and the day’s weather report, her moving, frying up eggs and boiling a pot of coffee. She would hum along to the tunes she liked best, and laugh at the sight of her teenage son’s eye rolls. She didn’t mind that he felt the same twinge of embarrassment in the comfort of their little kitchen as he did in public, tucked at the end of the pine table, face buried in his hands the louder she sang along to the music.

She lived her life knowing that today’s were yesterday’s tomorrow’s. No matter what came up, she’d still be watching the sunrise, fetching the eggs, checking on the chicks, scattering feed, and putting together breakfast for Nat and Joshua, all before the day proper started. That was the beauty of her life, simple as it was, that each day was fresh, each moment new, and she was thankful that any of them were living, breathing that moment.

They’d lost Nonnie twenty years since, her headstone faded and green with moss now. She still brought flowers from time to time, and pulled at the weeds that came up around the base of the headstone. She would remind Nonnie of how big Briar and Joshua had gotten, that one was off on her own, and the other still had a bit of growing to do. Willow Ann would muse that Jack was off somewhere, living whatever life made him happier than their ranch in ten. She’d gotten over the anger of his disappearance, whether intentional, or foul play – they’d had nothing to go on after his last cattle drive – and poured all her energy into raising the children that lived on her ranch.

So when Ms. Angevin had come to call and mentioned that Wolf needed to apprentice, she hadn’t taken a second thought about another set of hands. They had enough acreage to tend to, and while they didn’t have much to offer in pay, she made up for in spirit. That wasn’t quite the same, she knew, but she put aside to give as much as she could.

'Good Morning, Willow Ann! Ready to start!' Wolf’s voice rang out from the dirt road of the drive. She finished the last of her coffee and headed out onto the wood deck of the front porch.

“Morning Wolf! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, you old so-and-so,” Willow Ann was all smiles, “How’s the morning been treating you?” She was in her flannel and overalls, boots on her feet, dressed and ready to head out to the horses and cows. “Thought we’d spend some time in the milking barn this mornin’, then head on up to the horses.”

“How’s your Ma?”