The loud whirring sound the rope made as the human swung it over his head scared the colt to the point where he could no longer think, and in a panic he crashed headlong into the tall wooden fence, bounced off, wheeled around on his hind legs and galloped off in the other direction. The rope zipped loudly as the man threw it toward the colt and hit him hard on his neck and side of his face. It stung, which caused the colt to duck toward the fence, turning and running wildly the other direction. The human built another loop and threw it at the colt but missed him completely. Then another, and another before suddenly the loop dropped over the colt’s head and down around his neck.

“I got you now you son of a…” Chad yelled just before the slack came out of the rope and he was jerked off his feet. The rope tightened near the base of the colt’s neck and right over the scar he received in his encounter with the stallion. A severe pain shot outward from the scar and quickly enveloped his entire body. He felt a heavy tug on what had now become a noose around his neck and the human suddenly lunged toward him at the same moment.

Henry, who had been leaning on the windowsill in the bunkhouse, watched as the figure in the round pen threw loop after loop at the colt before finally catching him with one of the sloppiest, and luckiest throws Henry had ever seen. One of the first things Henry’s father taught him about roping way back when he was just a kid was, you never throw a loop at anything you’re not prepared to catch. Obviously, the fellow in the pen had never heard that piece of advice because he no sooner got his loop around the colt’s neck than he was yanked off his feet and dragged through the dirt.

Henry was impressed with the fellow’s stamina (as well as his stupidity) as he held on to the rope with both hands while skidding along on his belly. Finally, after two-and-a-half laps, the man was apparently unable to hold on any longer and let go. He tumbled, rolled and landed hard against the bottom rail of the corral fence. The colt made one complete revolution around the inside of the pen at top speed and was blindly bearing down on the man in the dirt, when, at the very last second the man rolled out through the space between the bottom rail and the ground.

The noise emanating from the round pen, through the yard and into Jessie’s open bedroom window didn’t wake her, because by the time all the commotion started she still hadn’t gone to sleep. Jessie had gone to bed at her usual time and was just as tired as normal, but for some reason sleep escaped her. She was unusually restless that night and from the time her head first hit the pillow she found herself alternating between tossing and turning, staring at the dimly lit ceiling and glancing at the orange numbers on the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand next to her bed. The sound of the colt crashing into the round corral fence was enough to jolt Jessie from her bed. In one effortless motion she was on her feet. She grabbed the bathrobe from the bedpost and flung it around herself. In seconds she was out of her bedroom, down the steps, out the front door and running barefoot across the yard and toward the mustang’s pen.