“Such a strong old girl,” he tells her as he strokes her neck. Her eyes fall half-closed, but that’s as close as she’ll get to showing appreciation. Dusty has always had this dignified air about her, like she’s just allowing people the privilege of petting her out of the graciousness of her noble heart, but Robbie knows better. She has tells. He digs his fingers in at the base of her neck, the spot she likes best, and smiles when she curls her upper lip with pleasure before she can stop herself.

He saddles her up and they head up the trail. It’s evident before they’ve gone far that the wild ones are back in the trees. He and Dusty come upon the bachelors first, which means that they make the rest of their way with Kyle and his band filing after them on the trail like a string of pack horses. Kyle keeps daring to get close enough to sniff at Dusty’s tail, which makes her give a guttural squeal and tense in the hindquarters, ready to aim a kick. Kyle hastily backs off every time but can’t contain himself for long before he edges nearer again.

A couple times over the past few days, Robbie has rolled over in the darkness beside a sleepy Lance, and thought with a rush of adrenaline that he could just go. He could find someone to mind the ranch and follow Lance to Chicago. Maybe he’d enroll in college. In this little fantasy, Lance wants to be followed and wants Robbie to stick around. In the same fantasy, Robbie gets to see Lance in his element, the brightest-shining facet of a shining city, a precious stone in the setting it deserves—one honed from gold, not of rough wood and wire. Robbie gets to chase one of the degrees on his list of interests, a list he built without ever expecting to actually pursue any of them. He could leave for a weekend and visit one of the places on his list of dream destinations, places he only ever expected to read about, because you can’t leave a ranch full of horses and responsibilities even for a weekend vacation.

In his fantasy, his uncle doesn’t find out; there are no consequences. In his fantasy, he has someone he can trust who’s actually capable of fulfilling such a massive favor as minding the entire ranch, and for however long Robbie wants to be gone.

It was easier to shake off the allure of the impossible when the boys were here. Caring for them rooted him more strongly to the ranch. Caring for the horses does that, too, but only to an extent. It hasn’t been the same since both Johnny and Danny left.

Dusty comes down a slick place in the slope with careful steps. Robbie adjusts his balance so that he won’t throw her weight. He’s focused on the snowy way just ahead of them until they reach the bottom, and level ground, where they’re ready to cross the frozen creek in a shallow place that’s as much rocks and fallen branches as it is frozen water. He looks up and finds himself practically face to face with the elusive Bandit, who’s standing a dozen feet in the direction that would be upstream, if the water were still flowing instead of stuck in winter’s lock.