When they finally pulled in almost two hours later, Rusty was out in his yard roping a plastic calf head stuck into the end of a hay bale. He hadn’t changed a bit, still raw-boned and redheaded, with a permanent sunburn on his neck and oversize ears. He coiled up his loop and crossed to meet them as David stepped out of the pickup.
“What took you so long?”
“Kylan thought he knew a shortcut.” David didn’t bother hiding his exasperation since he’d already given the kid a raft of shit about the detour.
“I forgot there’s not a cut-across from the boarding school road to Meriwether.” Kylan hunched his shoulders, but he didn’t seem all that apologetic. “At least we didn’t have to go through town.”
“Yeah, that saved us a bunch of time,” David drawled.
Rusty frowned at the empty cab of the pickup. “I thought Galen would be with you.”
“He’s out of town,” David said.
“It’s just the two of you?” Rusty asked, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.
“We’re big boys,” David said. “We thought we could handle it. Which horse are we looking at?”
Rusty stared at him for a beat and then waved a hand toward the three horses tied to a rail in front of the barn. “The dun on the end. My wife’s cousin took him in on a trade, says he works good out in the arena but he’s a little tricky in the box.”
That didn’t sound promising, but it couldn’t hurt to try, especially when it had given David an excuse to bring Muddy.
“Let’s give it a shot,” he said, and went to unload his horses.
Frosty backed out slowly, deliberately, one foot after another. David handed the lead rope to Kylan. Then he released the next swinging divider inside the trailer and jumped out of the way, snagging the lead rope as Muddy ejected. He followed the horse out.
Rusty stared, dumbfounded. “Holy shit. That’s Muddy.”
“In the flesh,” David said.
“I didn’t expect… How did you get Mary to—” Rusty cut himself short and looked at Kylan. “Why don’t you grab your saddle and put it on the dun?”
Kylan looked from David to Rusty and back again, then he handed off Frosty’s lead rope and did as ordered. The instant he was out of earshot, Rusty stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Mary and Galen don’t know you’re here, do they?”
“Uh, no.” David tried hard not to look guilty, but was pretty sure he didn’t succeed. “Why?”
“Because I don’t live on the reservation, David.”
David sucked in air as he grasped the significance of Rusty’s statement. “Why didn’t Kylan say something?”
“Maybe he forgot.”
No. He didn’t forget. David remembered the hesitation. “Rusty’s place is…kinda far.” Kylan knew what he was risking and did it anyway. Why?
Rusty glanced over his shoulder at the kid, who was tossing his saddle blanket onto the dun’s back. “We could call the sheriff’s department right now. They’d be out here lickety-split. If you’ve got your papers and stuff along, you could leave here with Muddy today and settle the thing with the reward later.”
David went dizzy at the possibility. Without even trying, he’d managed to smuggle Muddy off the reservation. All he had to do was jump him into the trailer and drive away.
“My attorney friend called back,” Rusty went on, talking low and fast. “In her opinion, Mary doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Your posters said the reward was for information leading to Muddy’s return, but Mary didn’t come forward. You found her. If anybody deserves the reward, it’s Shane Colston.”
David’s brain felt like it had been dropped into a blender. Too much information too fast. Rusty had put his finger on what had been bothering David about paying the reward. Mary hadn’t returned Muddy to him. In fact, she’d done the opposite.
He was off the hook. Legally, ethically, he didn’t owe Mary or Kylan a damn thing. Except…
“I promised,” he said.
Rusty squinted, bewildered.
“You what?”
“Kylan made me promise I’d bring Muddy back to his place.” David let out a long, resigned breath. “I even crossed my heart.”
Rusty stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“’Fraid not. I gave my word, and I gotta stand by it.” Even if it might likely kill him. Or his sister would when she found out. And she would find out. She always did.
Rusty gave his head a slow shake, side to side. “You’re either the most stand-up guy I’ve ever met, or the dumbest.”
“I’m an idiot. Ask my sister.” David clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go rope.”
Before he grabbed his saddle from the tack compartment, David paused to scowl up at the cobalt-blue sky. Happy now, you cranky old bastards?
* * *
By the time Muddy was saddled and bridled, David’s chest was so tight with anticipation he could barely breathe. He led the horse into the arena, stuck his foot in the stirrup, and swung his leg over. Muddy jumped ten feet sideways and nearly dumped him right back off again, just to see if he was paying attention.
“Nice try,” David said but grinned. Geezus, the little shit could move.
Muddy snorted and shook his head, then shoved at the bit, raring to go. David gave him some rein and Muddy took it, churning and puffing around the arena like a miniature steam engine, all stoked up.
“These first three calves are a little juicy for Kylan,” Rusty said. “Why don’t you rope them?”
David checked his cinches, remounted, fumbling as he readied his rope and piggin’ string. Criminy. He was shaking worse than the first time he’d ever roped at a rodeo, when he was eight. He rode into the box, turned around, and laughed out loud when Muddy kicked up his heels.
Rusty grinned. “He’s ready. Are you?”
“You betcha.” David cocked his loop and nodded his head.
Muddy blasted out of the corner so hard the cantle of the saddle slapped David on the ass, and he let his loop go before he was ready. Muddy slammed him into the swells as the rope spun around the calf’s ears and off.
“He’s kinda short on the stop,” Kylan called out, all helpful-like.
David ignored the jibe, recoiled his rope, and rode back into the box. This time, he was ready for the start. He took three swings and threw, standing out in the right stirrup and pulling back on the reins, same as he’d been doing on Frosty for the past two years.
Not a good idea.
The first thing that hit the ground was the back of his head. Muddy spun him around and slammed him down so hard and so fast, David didn’t even feel it coming. Stars burst in front of his eyes, and every molecule of air was forcibly expelled from his body. He rolled over, scrambling to his hands and knees just in time to collide head-to-head with the calf as Muddy dragged it over the top of him.
Rusty came running, grabbing the rope and flanking the calf to the ground while David forced oxygen into his flattened lungs. He heard a snicker and turned his head to glare at Kylan. “You should at least make sure a man’s not hurt before you laugh at him.”
Kylan flattened out the grin. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You might not want to hang out on the side of this horse,” Rusty said, fighting a grin of his own.
Kylan burst out laughing.
David knocked the dirt off his hat, flattened out a brand-new crimp in the back of the brim and staggered back to Muddy, who, damn his evil heart, looked like he was smirking, too.
Gotcha.
David built a new loop and took a couple of deep breaths, closing his eyes. This was not how he’d pictured his first runs when he got back on Muddy. He was too jazzed, too emotional. Focus. Inside his head, he replayed the best runs he’d made on Muddy, how it felt. The speed, the power. Gotta be aggressive. He took another cleansing breath and then opened his eyes.
Muddy’s ears pricked, as if he felt David’s resolve. His butt had barely touched the back corner of the box when David nodded his head. Two swings and zap. He roped the calf clean. David was off the right side and gone, holding the slack so the calf switched around on the end of the rope without losing its feet. It jumped into David’s arms, helped along by Muddy hustling backward. David snatched the calf out of the air and dropped with it to the ground, the flank, gather, and tie flowing so smoothly into one another it was a single, continuous motion. He slapped on a wrap and hooey and threw up his hands.
Rusty hooted his appreciation, clapping as he jogged out to untie the calf. “That’ll punch your ticket to Vegas!”
David glanced over at Kylan. The kid stood slack-jawed.
“Whaddaya think?” David asked.
Kylan jerked a shoulder and turned his back. “It’ll work, I guess.”
His lack of enthusiasm stung, and David couldn’t exactly say why. It wasn’t like he needed the kid’s approval. He knew a good run when he made one. But still…
He coiled his rope, adrenaline surging in his system, blasting away the momentary gloom. Muddy hadn’t lost a beat. Images raced through David’s head, the places they would go, the things they could do. His muscles twitched, and his heart raced in anticipation. He wanted to load up and go now. This minute. Find a rodeo, any rodeo, and rope.
All of a sudden, Friday’s run in Reno was an eternity away.
He tied Muddy to the fence, breathing deep to settle his revved-up system. Kylan climbed on the dun and loped a few circles. The gelding handled pretty nice and wasn’t tough to look at. Could they actually be lucky enough to find the right horse on the first try? David was so pumped, he felt like anything was possible.
Kylan rode into the box and eased the horse back into the corner. The dun stood square, ears at attention, until Kylan cocked his arm back, ready to nod. The horse slumped, dropping his right shoulder to lean against the side of the box.
“Tighten up your left rein,” Rusty said. “And try to push him over with your right foot.”
Kylan tried, but the dun just leaned harder into the side of the box.
“Ride him forward and reset him,” David suggested.
Kylan pushed his reins forward and kicked with both feet. The dun obliging walked to the front of the box, stood calmly beside the chute, then backed into the corner when Kylan picked up on the reins, but as soon as the kid cocked his loop back and got ready to nod, the horse slumped over against the side of the box again.
“Maybe if you quarter him more,” Rusty said.
Kylan rode up and back again, angling the horse more to the left the way Rusty had instructed. The horse still leaned, so far his left hind foot came off the ground, and David thought he might flop onto his side. Crap. No wonder someone had wanted to get rid of him.
They tried circling him, first one direction and then the other. Didn’t matter. The horse would stand perfectly straight until Kylan cocked his arm back to nod, then he’d slouch over like he’d decided to take a nap.
“Well, at least he’s pretty calm about it,” Rusty said.
“He gets much calmer, he’s gonna doze off.” David walked into the box, grabbed the breast collar, and pulled, dragging the horse upright and holding him there. “Nod your head.”
Kylan nodded. Instead of running straight out of the box, the horse moved sideways and then forward. The delay made them a mile late, the calf wandering out of the chute, then squirting ahead when he heard them coming. They caught up just as the calf reached the end of the arena and ducked left. Kylan threw a loop that sailed like a Frisbee, three feet above the calf’s head.
Rusty said a bad word. David silently concurred. “Come on back,” Rusty yelled. “We’ll try it again.”
And again. And again. No matter what David did, the horse wouldn’t run straight out of the box. After six attempts, Kylan was red-faced and panting from frustration. He hadn’t had a single decent throw.
“I guess we know why he’s cheap,” David said.
Kylan slid to the ground and tugged his rope off the saddle horn with angry jerks, his head bowed and his face set. He’d barely said a word the whole time. David followed him across the arena where Kylan tied the dun down the fence from Muddy and crouched to unstrap the skid boots from his hind legs. David would’ve liked to pat the kid on the back, reassure him, but he wasn’t sure he dared.
David erred on the side of caution and kept his distance. “Well, I guess it was worth a shot.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” Kylan stuffed his rope into his can and slapped the top on, showing David his back.
Okay, then. The kid didn’t want to chat. David backed off, retreating to the roping chute and leaving Kylan to loosen his cinches and stow the rest of his gear.
“What else have you got?” David asked Rusty, already knowing the answer.
“Nothing that would suit Kylan. The sorrel horse is too green…”
David listened with half an ear while he watched the kid, puzzled. He’d explained on the way over that this was a long shot and not to get his hopes up, and Kylan had said he understood and he wasn’t expecting much. So why get all upset?
“What’s that?” David asked when he realized Rusty had said something and was waiting for an answer.
“Do you want to run a few on your white horse?” Rusty repeated.
Kylan shuffled over, his gaze glued to the dirt, and slouched against the fence, still mute. The brim of his cap was yanked down so far David couldn’t see much of his expression. Was he sulking? Embarrassed? Disappointed? Impossible to tell.
“You go ahead and get on your horse,” David said. “Kylan and I will push a few for you.”
And while they were at it, maybe he could figure out why Kylan wouldn’t even look at him.