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The sight of a familiar, dusty red truck coming my way perks me up. It’s Sam, my best friend from high school, who runs a bakery in town.
I wave to him and meet him at the end of the driveway, where he exits the car with a big grin.
“Morning, big guy!” He greets me with a slap on the shoulder.
“What do you have for me?” I peer into the bag he’s carrying, which is releasing the delicious scent of freshly baked bread.
“Just these.” He opens the bag further, revealing a loaf broken into half and two large pastries — a bear claw and a cream puff.
“I should pay you for this.” I take a bite out of the bear claw.
“Nah. It’s on the house. I got them for you specially.”
“You mean youmadethese for me specially.” I smile and put the bag in my saddlebag. “Either way, thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”
“How’s it going around here?”
“It’s going. Lots of stray cattle to round up.” I can’t help the grumble in my voice.
Sam pulls off his hat and scratches his head. “Sounds like a pain in the neck. I can give you a hand if you need one?”
“That’d be great. I’m going out to the north pasture for a closer look. You in?”
“Yeah. Just let me grab a few things and I’m good to go.”
He disappears into the truck and comes back with a small tool belt looped over his arm. I shake my head. “Still never know when you’ll need something, huh?”
He shrugs. “I’m a prepared guy.”
I slap at his arm. “You’re a weird guy.”
He grins, and we head off toward the stable. “What else are best friends for?”
After getting Sam a horse, we ride into the bright morning sun. Birds chirp and dew sparkles on the grass. For a moment, I can almost forget about my stress — the cattle, the endless paperwork and ordering, the drama with my staff.
Almost.
“Is that one of yours?” Sam points to a heifer in the distance.
“Yeah. That’s one of ’em.”
We ride out to her and, after a few tries, chase her down and head toward home. Ten minutes later, we have her on the other side of the fence, where she belongs.
Sam spurs his horse forward. “Yeehaw! We did it!”
I laugh and shake my head. “You’re a real cowboy now.”
“Honestly, this life is exciting. I don’t know why you have a problem with it.”
I frown, caught off guard by the comment. I never talk about my issues with my job. I’m not a whiner.
Sam chuckles. “Come on, man. You’re not that hard to read. You’ve been down for years.”
I look down at my hands on the reins, not knowing what to say.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Thank you, but not a chance in hell.”
