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“Yeah. He was gone before he hit the dirt. It was fast, thank God.”

“Amen.” They all hoped for that if it was gonna happen in the dirt.

The three of them stepped together, the need to pray immediate and strong—for tonight, for Miss Anna, for all cowboys who lived this life.

They broke apart when the final buzzer sounded on the team roping. Time to set up the barrels.

“Let’s do this thing.” Time to get to work.

Praise Jesus.

Chapter Six

DALTON CHECKEDto make sure the sound system was torn down and locked away, and then he checked the stock, the horses, the trailers. He assured the concessions were locked tight and the beer put away, even though that wasn’t his responsibility.

He caught a couple of young teens hiding behind the rigs and shooed them off with a growl and a snap of the bullwhip he kept on his belt.

Lord love a duck, it was sure a Saturday now, wasn’t it?

He peeked in on Deb’s trailer, not wanting to wake her. She’d had some kind of food poisoning and was finally resting.

All was dark there, so he went to Ben’s and knocked. “You home, man?”

The door opened, Ben beaming at him. “Hey, bud. All locked up tight?”

“All shut down. You busy?” He wasn’t tired, and he was bored as all get-out.

“Nope. I was playing Candy Crush.”

“Exciting.”

Ben waved him in, and Dalton plopped down in a chair. “How’s the head?”

Shrugging, Ben sighed. “No concussion, but Brandi ripped me a new one on the phone.”

“Yeah, she likes you. God fucking knows why.”

“Shut up.” Ben sat across from him. “How are you?”

“Fine. Tired. Bored.”Trying to work the kinks out of Tank being back.

“Yeah. It’s tough, how the locals ain’t fond.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if it’s not fond or just fucking bored. Whichever. I don’t like it.”

“I hear you.” Ben pulled out a Yahtzee game.

“Beer?”

“Fridge.”

“’Kay.”

They settled, the sound of rolling dice the only thing they heard for a while.

Then another knock came, Dustin’s head popping in. “Can I play? I brought a six-pack.”

“Shit, yeah,” Ben said. “Come on in.”