somebody. I must have come down with heat stroke. It’s the only logical reason why I agreed to have a beer at the river. Denny asked while I was hosing down my mare, Jubilee, after a long morning checking heifers, and I was simply too hot and tired to argue. The rare times I say yes—like today—are enough to keep Denny always inviting me. You’d think I agreed to give him $1,000 by the smile on his face. Almost makes me wish I said yes more often. Following behind the pack, I listen to talk about the past weekend’s rodeo. Sundial, appropriately nicknamed because he’s basically useless—always
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