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Bex gives Naomi a look and cackles. “He said it, not me.”
Naomi’s laugh rolls over me and I chuckle with them.
“Only time I ever finish that fast is with my mare. I like to take my time with pussy.” I wink and turn away, fully aware of the dropped jaws I’m leaving behind me.
I head back to the guys at the start gate and several of them holler at me.
“Gonna show us how it’s done, old man?”
“Gotta put us in our place, gramps?”
I chuckle at the old man jokes.
“Nah. Old Man Silver is doin’ it for them buckle bunnies,” one of the guys yells out, and I hit him with a glare.
“Call my wife a buckle bunny one more time, boy, and see what trouble it gets you into.” He, at least, has the common sense to look a little ashamed.
Back outside of the ring, a ranch hand pulls up the rope with an orange flag attached. Two of the boys are holding the calf back in the chute.
I lean down to give Pop Rocks a final pat and whisper to her, “Make me look good?”
Pop Rocks tosses her head in response, her eyes connecting with mine, hard determination in them. I glance over to the girls and see Bex explaining something animatedly to Naomi before turning back to me. A small tug on her reins backs Pop Rocks up against the calf chute at an angle. Someone hands off my lasso and rope to me.
I sink into the ritual of getting settled into my saddle. I secure the end of the lasso around my saddle horn, close to the pommel, reins in my left hand, lasso in my right, tie-down rope in my teeth. My feet are securely in the stirrups, heels down and weight firmly on the balls of my boots.
A small signal has the boys releasing the calf, which comes sprinting out the chute.
The orange flag drops with the rope sending Pop Rocks galloping forward at full speed. I lean forward with her movement and bring up my lasso to make a few controlled rotations above my head. My eyes are firmly on the calf as it sprints. My body senses the moment when I need to toss the loop like it’s second nature. The rope goes around the calf’s neck, and my left hand pulls back on Pop Rocks’s reins, signaling for her to stop and hold firm.
I’m already flying out of my saddle when the calf’s momentum stops. My feet connect with the ground and I’m running for the calf, hands skimming down the spoke of my lasso as I move. My hands slide to the animal’s neck and flank, and I flip it onto its side. Straddling the calf, I pull up its back legs in one quick swoop and pull the rope from my teeth with my other hand. The loop goes around one front heel and I tug it back to where my other hand holds the back legs.
Muscle memory has me looping the rope around the limbs three times and finishing off the tie with a half-hitch hooey knot. I push up from the calf and throw my hands in the air.
Cheers erupt from the guys, but I ignore them as my head looks up to meet my wife’s gaze.
“Boys! Time!” she calls out.
“Seven point-fuckin-two!” They cheer.
She dips down between the metal arena bars and comes barreling toward me.
“Seven point two!” she cries as she crashes into me, Naomi close behind. Naomi looks excited but a little confused. Bex turns to her, gasping. “In comp, that would be a world record. Not bad for Old Man Silver.”
Naomi’s jaw drops, and her gaze smashes into mine. I hold the moment as long as I can before one of the ranch hands gets my attention.
“Buen trabajo, jefe,” he says. Nice job, boss.
“Gracias, hombre,” I say, turning back to his voice to find the calf already free and being guided back where it belongs by two of the other guys on their horses.
I scoop up my rope from the ground, return to Pop Rocks, and undo the lasso on her saddle before giving her a rub on her muzzle.
“Thanks, girl.” I give her a kiss. “Maybe we should come out of retirement.” I wink at her, and she gives me a neigh and chomps at her bit.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Alvie,” Bex calls.
“What? I’m kidding.” I laugh with a look to Naomi, which Bex clearly doesn’t miss.
I hand off Pop Rocks to the ranch hand, and he hops up to take her on a short trot around the arena to cool off before putting her back into her stall.
