When Ezra went to crank the truck, he went at it in too much of a hurry. The back kick of the crank handle almost broke his arm. He got it started on the second try. They bumped along the rough track in second gear. They had crawled a couple of miles when Ezra pulled over, saying that he wanted to check a windmill. Ben found it strange, because they had ridden by the windmill two days earlier and everything was fine and dandy. Maybe Ezra was getting forgetful.

Ezra killed the engine and climbed out of the truck, walked around the windmill a time or two, then perched on the edge of the stock tank. Ben got out and stood next to him. There was a good breeze blowing.

Ezra pointed to the blades of the big wheel spinning with the wind. “Aint that a beautiful sight? Currie windmill, made by a company in Topeka. Best you can buy. Don’t need nothin but the wind that’s been blowin out here forever. There wasn’t no windmills when me and Eli first come through here in 1886.”

Ben nodded, wondering why they were sitting here when the spread Juanita would put on the table was calling his name. Finally, Ezra cleared his throat. “Ben, there’s a thing I’ve been ponderin for some time now. I thought maybe we could chew it over a little, see if you agree with me or not.”

Ben assumed that Ezra was talking about Argentina. “I expect we’ll be in agreement. I don’t disagree with you too often, Uncle Ez.”

“I know you don’t, son, and I appreciate it. What I’ve been thinkin, it has to do with you. Now that Velma’s gone, you’re an orphan.”

“I guess I am. I never thought of it that way.”

Ezra gazed up again at the spokes of the windmill. “Anyhow, I went and talked to a lawyer fella in Sheridan. Seems that, even though you’re full grown, there aint nothin to stop me from adoptin you.”

“Like you adopt a kid from an orphanage?”

“Well, this is a little different, you bein older and all, but you’d be my son, all nice and legal. If you don’t want this, don’t let it worry you, I’ll never bring it up again.”

Ben kicked a booted toe into the mud next to the stock tank. “I used to hope I’d get adopted when we were in that orphanage in Alliance. Stayin with the nuns, where they’d smack us on the back of the hand with a ruler if Em and me so much as looked at each other. Some kids would get lucky and they’d get took by a family. I wanted to get adopted, but they wouldn’t let us go because our parents were still alive.”