The calving season is the most stressful time of the year on the ranch. After all, being the largest ranch in the entire country comes with its challenges, and during this season, those challenges are magnified.
Most ranchers in Montana choose to have their cows calve during the winter to have fatter animals ready for sale in the fall.
John Dutton broke from tradition and opted for late spring.
At this time, the cows can benefit from the gentle sunlight during the day, warming and drying their newborns.
This is also the unique philosophy followed at Yellowstone.
"Ranchers take a cow that looks more like a wild animal and can fend for itself and turn it into a cow that doesn't even know how to find food," John once told a young Dante, who had barely learned to walk.
Dante remembered all the teachings his father gave him before he went off to college.
"When you challenge the rules like that, of course, there are consequences. For the cows that can't fend for themselves, we say, 'Alright, you're my responsibility.' During their stay on the ranch, we don't see the animals as money but as another responsibility in our lives."
In the spring, when the weather is warmer, they leave the older, more experienced mothers in the back pastures to fend for themselves.
Under normal circumstances, only first-time heifers are moved to the old pasture not far from the house for close observation.
Basically, every hour, cowboys and even other workers who weren't in school had to take turns silently checking on the mothers giving birth, day and night, without rest.
Thanks to good coordination, necessary rest periods, and ranch management, John was able to understand the state of the cows and predict which ones might need help at certain times of the day.
Walking back to the cabin where only his father slept, Dante looked at his dog, Scud, who accompanied him silently, and said, "I'm going to take a shower, rest up."
Dante was trying to change—he had been proving it in recent days, though part of him wanted to abandon everything.
But he knew that if he continued to follow his business too closely, he would likely cause even more chaos, as he had in his past life.
Now he had a family to belong to, and he needed to be more careful.
Looking at his face in a large mirror, Dante, wrapped in a bath towel that couldn't hide his tattoos, scars, and firmly defined muscles, reflected on himself.
He might not work out regularly, but all the work he had been doing lately was more than enough to keep him in great shape.
Of course, his need to rely on his body to defend himself in certain situations had also forced him to train much more than he would have imagined.
Dante exhaled a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the shower, feeling more at ease knowing it was nothing more than a cow giving birth.
He was dedicating a lot of time to the farms surrounding Yellowstone, and he kept buying even more land to extend his family's legacy.
Thinking of this, he remembered his brother, Kayce. He'd have to visit him one of these days to give him a ranch.
His younger brother needed a place to belong, to raise his son, and to stop relying on the Indian reservation where he was continually belittled.
In some ways, Dante had always admired Kayce, who, despite having everything, preferred to go his own way.
Dante had stopped trying to give Kayce a good job after receiving reports about him from the family. From what he could see, Kayce's wife loved him, his son adored him, and his father-in-law accepted him—even though his brothers-in-law did not.
But in some way, that was fine. Kayce worked at what he knew, and as far as Dante could tell, he was content with that. Dante didn't have an explanation for his brother that would satisfy his doubts about where all his money came from.
In fact, he still didn't have an explanation for his family, should they ever discover his other businesses.
Of course, he believed they wouldn't. At least, that's what he thought.
"Well, tomorrow will be another day of work," Dante murmured, finally drifting off to sleep.