Title: what you break is what you get
Summary: family is absent, family is nothing once it's gone
title from the national, lucky you
1927
Family was not something a ranch hand had. 'Family' became abandoned soon after becoming working age and never brought up again. The farming life didn't mold men into sensitive, patriarchal husbands. It made harsh, grubby forms driven by anger. Family went the same way as the pulp magazines and stories of cowboys and Indians.
The fire crumbled to embers and Lennie snored. George Milton stared at the lonely star visible through the leaves. Maybe, he reflected, he had in fact gotten lucky.
1937
Family was not something a ranch hand had. And George Milton was no exception to that rule. The work day had been long and he was feeling the ache in his bones. But his little jar of liniment would make him far too comfy. So he ignored it.
Slim jolted him out of the aching slumber he had fallen in to and sat down gingerly at the foot of his bunk. "You miss him," it wasn't a question.
"Course," George replied. "Ain't no other way 'bout it, I had him an' he had me."
"No one else."
"No," the word fell from his lips like a rock. "No."