“Oh yeah,” Henry grunted. “Then prove it.”

With that, the little blond-headed girl with the green eyes stepped up. “Let’s have a contest,” she said. “We throw as many houlihans as we can before the bell rings. First one to miss, loses.”

“Fine with me,” Henry chuckled. “Targets got to be moving, though.”

“Fine with me,” the little girl said.

“Good,” Henry said. “I pick Leon to be my target.”

“No way,” the girl protested. “I pick your target—you pick mine. That way we both know a friend ain’t gonna cheat for either one of us.”

“Whatever,” Henry grinned. “Ain’t gonna matter anyhow.”

With that, targets were picked, rules were established (such as no ducking out from under a loop or running too fast), and the contest began. Each contestant would throw five loops, then give the rope to the opponent for five loops, and so on until someone missed or until recess was over, whichever came first. At that time, whoever had the most catches would be declared the winner.

Henry hit his first five with ease, and much to everyone’s surprise, so did the little girl. Then both hit the second five, then the third. On Henry’s sixteenth throw, however, he released a just little too late and the loop landed harmlessly on his target’s head and slid down the boy’s back.

The little girl stepped up and made another five in a row, then for good measure, made another three. About that time, the bell signaling the end of recess rang, and that was that. As the kids all made their way back into school, the girl coiled Henry’s rope and graciously handed it back to him.

“Thanks for letting me use your rope,” she said.

At first, Henry couldn’t think of anything to say. He was embarrassed and impressed all at the same time. Embarrassed because he had been beaten by a girl, and impressed, also because he had been beaten by a girl. He gently took the rope. “You got a nice houlihan,” he said, with all the humility he could muster.

“You, too.” She smiled. “I’m Annie Ford. We’re new here. Just moved from Idaho. This is my second day.”

“I’m Henry.” They started for the school. “I’ve lived here all my life.”

Like Henry, Annie had grown up in a ranching family. Her father had been working as ranch foreman on the Box L Ranch in Northern Idaho before recently taking a job as ranch manager on the Nine-Bar-Nine just up the road from where Henry and his family’s little ranch was. The Nines, as folks in the area referred to it, was one of the biggest cow/calf operations in the state, and it was considered quite a coup for Len Ford to have snagged the manager position there. Nearly every cowboy in a three-state area applied for the job, which was vacated when Tink Weber, the previous manager, died of pneumonia the winter before.

Annie had learned much of her roping skills from her father, along with the ranch hands on the Box L when her family was still there, and she had spent countless hours practicing both on and off her horse in hopes that one day she’d get to help out on the ranch and do some real roping, helping out at branding time, for instance, instead of just roping stationary targets like hay bales and fence posts. As of yet, she hadn’t gotten her chance. It was those roping skills she had developed, however, along with her natural beauty, outgoing nature and those green eyes that caught Henry’s attention, and gradually Henry found himself spending more and more time with her.