Page 26 of Ember Meadow
“Hey, is there anything going on between you and Miles?” He asks before taking a sip, as if asking my favorite color. I’m taken aback, like a bucket of ice water has been poured onto me.
“Definitely not, what makes you say that?” I’m a little breathless from the shock of that question. Miles clearly dislikes me. He hasn’t been near me since I first got here. He’s not paying me any attention.
“Oh just because he doesn’t look too happy about me buying you a drink,” Reed says. “Wouldn’t want to step into something between y’all. I’m not looking to get on his bad side.”
My gaze slides over to Miles, still over by the barn. He’s still standing where he was before, but now he’s alone and he’s looking right back at me. He’s also clutching his drink for dear life, knuckles turning white. And Reed is right, he does not look happy. Seems pretty typical for him, though. This isn’t the first time I’ve been the object of a Miles glare.
I smile as big as I can back at him, giving him an enthusiastic wave. That catches his attention, bringing him back to reality. He covers his mouth like he’s clearing his throat as he looks away, walking into the barn.
“Oh that’s just Miles,” I assure Reed. “I don’t think he likes me very much. In fact, I think I annoy him just by existing. We are definitely not together.”
“If you say so,” Reed mumbles. He doesn’t sound all too sure, but I can’t force him to believe me.
We exchange numbers and head back over to Parker and the group. They’re a fun bunch, joking around with each other, telling stories of the ranch and rodeos. The kind of people you want to be friends with. I’ve never had a big group of friends, only a few really close friends. I like it that way, but being here makes me think this could be fun too.
The ranch hands are gathered in a big circle around a hay bail that has a plastic bull head staked into it. Parker stands across from the bull, swinging a rope around his head. He throws the rope with a holler, and I barely have time to see it land on the hay before he pulls it tightly around the horn of the bull.
“Alright, who’s ready to test out my aim on a moving target?” He asks the group that has gathered around.
“I ain’t drunk enough yet to let you rope burn me, Bailey,” a cowboy across from me shouts.
“Aw, come on now, it’s tradition,” Parker yells back. His gaze lands on me and I swear his eyes twinkle just a bit. “Katie, would you like a turn?”
“I’m used to horses, not cows. I’ve never roped before,” I say.
“I’ll teach you, step right up.” Parker grins, and I’d be willing to bet he usually gets what he wants because of that smile. What’s the harm? I might as well be fully immersed into the ranch lifestyle while I’m here. When am I ever going to learn how to rope a cow again?
“Knew I could count on you, Idaho,” Parker says as I walk up to him in the middle of the soft dirt.
“I hope you’re a good teacher, because I’ve never done anything like this before,” I say.
“It’s easy, trust me. You’ll get the hang of it real quick.” He hands me a stiff rope, rolled up into a coil. It’s mostly white, with a few other colors mixed in. The colors remind me of the sunsets behind the Tetons, orange, red, and purple.
Parker steps in front of me to direct my hands to the right spots on the rope.
“Hold the rope right here. Yep, that’s it. It’s already coiled up for you, so you’re all ready to rope. You’re gonna slide the rope through the hondo there, until you’ve got a big enough loop.”
“Is that good?”
“That’ll do. Now point your finger right down the center of the rope–”
“And just what in the hell are you doing?” Miles’s voice comes from behind me, kicking my heart rate up to a level I’m not proud of. I look over my shoulder to see him stalking towards us, arms crossed over his chest.
“Right on time,” Parker says just low enough for me to hear.
I’m about to ask Parker what he’s talking about, but Miles interrupts my thoughts.
“Would you leave this girl alone and go rope some of your drunk friends like usual?”
“She’s never roped before, Miles. She wants to learn,” Parker smiles.
Miles sighs. “You teaching anyone how to rope is like Walt holding a class on computers.”
“Why don’t you teach her, then?” Parker says, holding a hand out for Miles to take his place.
Miles rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. “C’mon, Autry, show me what you’ve got. How many chances does a girl get to be a cowboy for a day?”
Miles finally looks over at me, assessing my words. After a moment, he nods. “Alright, if you want to learn how to rope, you may as well learn the right way.”
