The one thing God never promised is that this life He gave us would be easy.

Lail McGurneys father told her that the night her barrel horse died. She heard it from him again after they saw their herds decimated by fire the year she graduated from high school. And again when her brother totaled his truck two years ago. And when Grandpa McGurney died from a heart attack. It was his mantra. He said it every spring during the floods, every summer during the droughts, and every winter during the blizzards. Lail had heard it all her lifewhen the family had risen before dawn to move cattle, when they broke their fingers in gates and their toes beneath hooves, when their stomachs rumbled and their muscles ached. Something about the way her father said it, with his eyes crinkled at the corners and his lopsided grin hiding in the shadow of his old black felt hat, always made Lail feel like maybe things werent that tough after all. They had a thriving cattle ranch, a good breeding program, and a happy family. Easy life or not, God had been good to them. But sometimes good wasnt quite good enough. Lail bit the inside of her lip. She shifted in her saddle and popped the end of her rope against the hindquarters of a red calf that lagged behind the bunch she and her brother and a couple hands were shoving up into the mountains. She clamped a mental hand over the bitter thoughts, but still they came, bubbling out from some deep well she had never realized she harbored. Why, why? Why did he have to die? Hed never done anything to deserve dying. All hed ever done was try to live life the best way he knew how. And, oh God, they needed him. She needed him. She smacked the red calf again, harder than she needed to, and he bolted into the herd, bawling. At the age of sixty-six, her father Walt McGurney, had been diagnosed with an advanced form of leukemia. The doctors had given them no hope; Walt wouldnt live to see another snowfall. She swung at the calf again but missed and struck Sundowns sorrel shoulder. The gelding lurched forward, scattering several cows and a stocky black calf. Lail growled and reined the horses head back around. Ive got em. She turned in time to see her brother, Craig, and one of the hired men take off after the renegade cows. They returned in a minute, and Lail held Sundown back until the cows reentered the herd. She didnt look at Craig as his horse fell into stride beside hers. Wheres your mind today? His voice was tight. Thats the third time youve let a cow slip by when you shouldnt have.