Luke jumped off of Friday, literally, when they were about fifteen feet from us. He somehow landed on his feet. Friday came to a stop near Maple. I noticed he wasn’t even tacked up. Luke had ridden through the ranch’s roughest trails bareback. All to make it to me. I looked at him. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were bright. He didn’t have a hat on, so his hair was messy from riding. He looked like a man possessed. In a good way. The best way.