Page 118 of We Drank the Dawn

Tag disappeared to grab the ropes from the barn, almost skipping with excitement.

Jesse said, “Peter, remember when I taught you and Jack? That was a good time.”

Peter smiled. “It was.”

“Can’t believe that was almost three years ago. Think you could still do it?”

Peter gave a half shrug. “I doubt I’d hit anything.”

“Don’t feel bad.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got twenty-twenty and can’t hit anything.”

Peter laughed. And I realized today was the first day I’d heard him give anything more than a polite whisper of a chuckle. His true laugh was infectious and made his face crinkle. Ever since we dismounted, he’d laughed along with our easy banter, his relief palpable. After working side by side for days, I knew his tension and anxiety had to be wearing him down.

So I was happy he got a win today.

Although, I wasn’t sure why I cared.

Tag brought Rudy and two ropes back to the arena. He handed one to Jesse and waved toward the far side of the arena, “Alright. Harlan, you run first.”

“Why do I gotta run first?” Harlan whined.

“‘Cause I said so.” Tag dragged the toe of his boot through the dust, making a line. “On go, start right here and we’ll give you a two-mississippi head start.”

Harlan took off his cowboy hat and handed it to Rudy. “Fine.” Heaving up his belt, he stepped forward.

Tag turned to Jesse. “You gonna heel him?”

Jesse, already swinging the rope around and around near his waist, frowned. “Of course I’m gonna heel him. I don’t want to break his neck.”

Peter was listening to every word. He turned to me, his voice low. “Heel?”

“That means capturing his ankles instead of his head.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

“Alright, Harlan,” Tag said. “Ready?”

Harlan nodded, crouching into a run-really-fast position.

“Set…”

Jesse’s rope swung a little faster.

“Go.”

Tag counted out loud as Harlan tipped his head back, pumping his arms and running full speed like a lunatic. But as soon as that last pi left Tag’s lips, the rope left Jesse’s hand, skimming along the ground like a hover craft until it zipped tight over Harlan’s ankle.

He ate it—face first.

A series of ohhhs peppered our raucous laughter as Harlan pulled himself off the earth, cussing like a sailor. Tag’s laugh squeaked and Jesse braced his hands on his knees. Rudy reenacted the way Harlan hopped into the air which made everyone laugh all over again.

Part of me felt bad, enjoying the show when Peter couldn’t see what was going on. I considered narrating for him, but that seemed…weird. Like something a woman should do. So I didn’t say anything. But I did glance in his direction, satisfied to see him at least smiling.

Then it was Jesse’s turn to run. And he didn’t get much further than Harlan.

Groaning as we all laughed, he stood up and brushed the dirt off the front of his plaid shirt. “Man, I didn’t feel old before, but I do now.” His first steps limped as he rubbed his hip.

“Alright. Who’s next?” Tag was having way too much fun with this. “How ‘bout you, Rudy?”