Page 41 of Swift and Saddled

“Weirdly, enough,” Dusty said, “it’s also guys’ night, but apparently I’m in the wrong place.”

“They’re at Gus’s,” Emmy said, and Teddy made a gagging noise. “Why would they be here?”

“I don’t know,” Dusty responded. “That’s just what your dad said when I stopped at the Big House.” Interesting that Amos Ryder had senttwopeople down here today.

“All right, well, time to go,” Emmy said. She put her hands on Dusty’s elbows and turned him around so he was facing the door.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said, but before he went out the door, he turned back to Cam and said, “You look good, Ash.” Then he was gone.

I looked at Cam. “Ash?”

She swallowed and shrugged. “Old nickname. My last name is Ashwood.”

Chapter 16

Wes

I heard Dusty’s old black Ford Bronco before I saw it. That thing was fucking loud, and it always had been. As it rolled up to Gus’s house, I could hear Led Zeppelin over the sound of the engine.

Gus’s house was a white two-story at the west end of Rebel Blue. He built it right before Emmy left for college, so about ten years ago. He’s got a good setup—the house has four bedrooms and is far enough away from everything else on the ranch that it really feels like his.

Brooks, Gus, and I were sitting in Gus’s front yard shooting the shit when Dusty walked over. He looked the same as when I last saw him—just a little older.

All three of us stood up to give him a “Hey, man” and a handshake.

“What the hell took you so long?” I asked.

“Your dad sent me down to the old Big House,” Dusty said with a shrug.

“What? Why?” That was weird.

“He said you guys were down there,” Dusty said, and then turned to Gus. “Riley’s getting big.”

Gus ran a hand through his hair, which for once wasn’t covered by a hat. “Yeah, she is. I’m trying not to think about it, though.” Gus shook his head. “But when did you see her? Cam should’ve picked her up already.”

Something flashed across Dusty’s eyes. “Cam was down at the old Big House. It’s girls’ night down there, apparently.”

Gus nodded. “That’s good, she needs a break.” Gus grabbed a beer out of the cooler and threw it to Dusty, who caught it easily. “Drink up, we’re jousting tonight.”

Cowboy joust was Gus and Luke’s favorite thing to do when we were hanging out—probably because they were really fucking good at it. As soon as the ropes were out, they turned into teenagers—extremely competitive teenagers.

The rules were simple. Each person was given a lasso rope. You face off with another person, run toward each other, and try to rope your opponent’s legs. The harder they biff it, the better.

Tonight, it was Dusty and me against Brooks and Gus, as usual. I think Dusty and I had won maybe four times in our entire lives against that duo. It wasn’t because they were better ropers—it was because they talked so much shit that they got into our heads.

We played for points. If you successfully roped your opponent’s legs but they didn’t fall, you got one point. If they stumbled and then fell, two points. If it was a clean lasso and you were able to pull their feet out from under them, you got three.

First team to thirty points won.

To start, it would be me against Gus. We stood aboutfifteen feet apart, not far enough apart that I couldn’t see his stupid cocky smile.

I swear, the only things that could make Gus smile were Riley and the chance to kick my ass at something.

“You ready to lose, little brother?” he asked. His eyes were glinting.

In true middle-child fashion, the only response I could think of was “Shut up,” which made Gus laugh.

“Loser chugs the rest of their beer?” he asked.

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