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up my head so bad. I knew she was wrong, but I couldn't say why. Which made me worry she might be right.
    What really burned me that night, though, was the way she had dogged me all the way to Nowhere. If I had been still in Algona I could see it, but nobody knew me out here. And even here I didn't have friends. I liked to have good relationships with the guys I worked with, but that's not friends. I was all about work and sleep and sometimes some TV. So if I was the kind of piece of shit Kayla thought I was, I kept it to myself. And I knew I wasn't a shit at work. I worked fucking hard. I put in ten to twelve hours at jobs that asked for eight, and I did it because that's what the jobs needed.
    But in that letter she took even that from me. If I hadn't liked Nowhere so much, I would have quit and moved on and made damn sure I forwarded nothing. But I really did love that job. I'd even made the kitchen work. I didn't want to leave.
    I was all jumbled and crazy and couldn't let it go. So I just kept on walking and walking and walking. And I wasn't thinking because I was so messed up in my head, and I ended up walking too close to Loving's trail he took when he rode, and of course he caught up with me.
    I tried to make like I didn't see him, tried to send off silent messages that I wanted to be left alone. But either he didn't see it or decided to ignore it, because when I didn't answer his call, he got off his horse and headed toward me.
    “Don't usually see you out here,” Loving said at last.
    We were in the middle of long grass, and his gelding Chaucer was taking the opportunity to grab a bite while we talked. Well, saying we were talking is a little misleading. Mostly we'd stood doing the silence thing like we had at the bar, though here we could enjoy a view. Nowhere was mostly evergreen and scrubby stuff, no big oaks because there just wasn't enough water, but it was pretty. Walking in it on my own had only calmed me a little, but standing with Loving helped a lot more, and I didn't mind the way we stood quiet, wind playing in my hair because I hadn't brought my hat. But now Loving had started us talking. So I answered.
    “Not usually, no,” I said.
    And we were done.
    I looked at him awhile. I had noticed more about him since Rapid City. Like before I would have said he had sandy hair, but now I knew about the little flecks in it that were actually bits of gray. He had a little cleft in his chin too. I know because I sucked on it that second night and pushed my tongue in it. And when I stood this close to him, it was pretty much impossible not to think about how strong he was, how broad-shouldered, how good it felt when he gripped me and pushed hard into me.
    But now he was talking again.
    “You seemed upset.”
    I looked away.
    When he spoke again, his words were halting. “Do you...want to talk about it?”
    I twitched. “Fuck no.”
    He relaxed, and I did too. Good. We had to be all done now. But no, he was rubbing his thumb along his jawline, and I could see him working up another bit of conversation in his head.
    “Well,” he said at last, “if you're looking for a distraction, I'm headed over to Crawford to catch the rodeo.”
    Now, when he'd said “distraction,” I admit I assumed he'd suggest sex and was all ready with my “no.” But when he said “rodeo,” I shut my mouth and thought for a minute. Lots of people, lots of noise, and lots of horses. And rough men on the horses too. You could do a lot worse than spending an evening watching cowboys straddle animals, their muscles taut underneath dusty clothes as they hung on for dear life. And most of them had tents or trailers at the site, so when you got lucky and found a cowboy who liked bull in and out of bed, you could be part of another ride before you left for home.
    Yep. Rodeo sounded real good to me. “When do you plan on leaving?”
    “Figured I'd just grab a quick shower as soon as I got Chaucer rubbed down, maybe stop at the cafe in