The Passion of the Rancher

Melissa Moreira

Melissa

Let me introduce myself.

My name is Melissa Moreira. I'm twenty-five years old, and I am deeply, completely in love with life on the land. I was born and raised on this fazenda — Fazenda Luar, the Moonlight Ranch — right alongside my father. I studied veterinary medicine, and that's about all there is to say about me on paper.

The farm takes up my whole day, every day. I've been seeing Eliezer Santiago for two years now, though the relationship is not going well. He lives in the city; I live here. We met at my cousin's bachelorette party. He comes out on weekends, or I make the drive to him — even though I hate being away from my dad and the animals. I do it just to keep him happy, because Eliezer has never had any love for farm life. Dad doesn't think much of him either, but he stays out of it.

Right now, though, I need to get to the stable. One of the mares is in labor — young and skittish, and already trying to deliver twins. The old girl has a temper and the farmhands are losing their minds over her.

I was almost to the stall when I saw Sérgio pacing in a panic. That was exactly why I hated being away from this place. I'd barely walked in the door from Eliezer's when the news hit me. I ran.

"Good Lord, boss, this mare's not going to make it," Sérgio said. "She's been at it for hours and there's still no sign of the foal."

"Calm down, Sérgio." I pulled on my gloves without breaking stride. "You act like you've never seen a mare foal before."

I didn't bother changing clothes — just scrubbed up and went in.

The foal was malpresented. I got to work repositioning it immediately, and thank God it came around. Half an hour later the mare was nursing her two. Both of them.

"See?" I said, stripping off my gloves. "All good. Now I need to write up a prescription — she'll need antibiotics after being open that long. Run to town and pick it all up. I'm going inside to find out what my father's been doing that kept him from even coming to check on me."

"Yes, ma'am." Sérgio hesitated. "But — fix that sad face before you see him, or he'll worry."

Sérgio was one of the oldest hands on the farm. More than an employee — he was family. His wife Fátima was like a mother to me.

"You know me too well," I said.

"I do, girl. Every time you come back from the city you wear that look. Those trips were supposed to make you happy."

I just lowered my head and walked inside. I came in through the kitchen. Fátima was already at the stove, and the moment she saw me she crossed the room and pulled me into a hug.

"Hi, Fatinha. What is that amazing smell?"

"Hi, sweetheart. I'm making your favorite — oxtail stew and rice, with a little banana farofa."

"That sounds incredible. I'm already starving. Where's Dad?"

"In the office, my girl. He spent almost the whole weekend in there. Didn't eat right these past few days."

That sent a flicker of worry through me. Dad not eating was something to take seriously. My old man was strong as an ox — eating was one of his great passions in life.