Encumbered by his chaps, high-heeled cowboy boots and spurs, Jake broke into an awkward jog and quickly caught up. “How’s it going’ Henry?”

“Best day of my life,” Henry responded unenthusiastically, the dry axle bearing of the wheelbarrow chirping like a bird as he pushed it along the dusty path.

“Yeah,” Jake shook his head as he broke from his jog and walked alongside Henry. “Well, just so you know, the rest of us think you got a bad deal, what with Chad makin’ you do all this shit work every day.”

“No matter,” Henry shrugged. “It all pays the same.”

“Still, it ain’t right.” Jake shook his head in disgust. “Anyway, seeing how this is our last day together, a bunch of us are getting’ together in town tonight…you know, have a few beers, maybe shoot some pool. We’re wonderin’ if you wanted to come along.”

Henry pushed the squeaky wheelbarrow to the edge of the ramp, out over the spreader and dumped it. “I appreciate the offer, but I believe I’ll pass.”

“You sure?” Jake smiled, and rubbed his hands together as if just finding a hidden treasure. “They got shooters on special. Two for a buck.”

“Thanks anyway,” Henry shrugged.

“Don’t you know, Jake?” Chad had quietly come up behind the pair and was standing at the edge of the ramp leaning on a scoop shovel. “Old boys like this have trouble holding their liquor. After a couple beers they all start howlin’ at the moon and gettin’ into fights.”

“For once Chub,” Henry nodded. “You may just be right.”

“Dammit,” Chad grunted. “How is it you get a simple name like Chad wrong every damn time you say it?”

“Actually…it ain’t easy.”

Jake couldn’t hold back a snicker, which sounded more like a quiet sneeze than a laugh of any kind.

“What the hell are you laughin’ at?” Chad yelled. “Get back to work!”

“If you change your mind, Henry,” Jake grinned as he walked past Chad, “we’ll be at Mona’s around eight.”

Chad tossed the scoop shovel in Henry’s direction, but Henry let it fall to the ground at his feet, kicking up a small puff of dust when it landed. “The mustang’s pen needs cleanin’.” Chad walked off, trying to strut but only managing to show how intimidated by Henry he was.

With most everybody in town celebrating that night, Henry decided to take a walk around the ranch, clean his saddle and turn in early. He had been sleeping well since his night in the desert, most nights all the way through until morning, and on that particular night he dozed off almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He slept peacefully until just after one in the morning when he awoke to the creaking of a gate opening and then closing. With eyes open, he lay quietly in his bed, listening.

There was the sudden but unmistakable sound of a horse running in the dirt and loud but undistinguishable whispering of a man’s voice in the night. Henry climbed out of bed and made his way to the window. Peering outside he saw a shadowy figure in the round corral chasing the mustang, who was running frantically inside the dark pen, dust rising up in the corral with every worried step. The unsteady figure in the pen threw a rope at the colt, but missed, then gathered the slack for another attempt.