"Alright, Jace, Howard, Trace, y'all take the left flank." Bill gave out orders as to who rode with who in the round up, and where each ranch hand was to be positioned once they got out to the range.

     "Trigger, Paul, and Nelson, I want y'all to ride lead." Bill commanded.

     Misty bit her lip as the selection of ranch hands were wearing thin. She still hadn't been called and neither had Clay. Any other day, Misty would've begged her dad to put her with Clay, but today, she prayed that her dad wouldn't make her ride alongside Clay.

     "Roger, Waylon, y'all pick up the rear. Junior, Pokey, y'all are with me to help with all the supplies. Rowdy, I want you and Marshall to take the right flank." Bill finished his assigning.

     Misty stared at her dad in disbelief. No, this wasn't happening. Frantically, Misty looked around, hoping that there was a ranch hand or two whose name hadn't been called, but each one had already had their parts assigned. There were only two names that hadn't been called: hers and Clay's.

     "Alright, listen careful. There have been more coyote sightings in these parts, so y'all keep a close eye out. If y'all see anything, please use your walkie-talkies to get a hold of me. Since last year's round-up lasted for six straight days, I'm expecting this year to be about the same, so it's essential that everyone try to get as much sleep as you can. We start out each morning before day break. Veterans of this round-up, I want y'all to make sure that the rookies know where we set up camp each night. I tried placing one or two veterans with each group to ensure that this round-up goes as smoothly as it can. If for some reason you and your partners get separated from each other, or from everyone else, use your walkie-talkies; we don't want anyone, especially rookies, getting lost on the range. Those walkie-talkies are good for, at best, up to fifty miles, but you should never be more than two miles from another group." Many murmurs came from the cowboys around Misty's dad. Taking a breath, Bill said quieter, "Clay, Misty, I want y'all to ride together and ride behind Roger and Waylon and look for any stragglers. Then, y'all can help Marshall and Rowdy on the right flank, okay?" Bill looked between Misty and Clay, as if silently asking if that would be a problem.

     "Yes sir." Clay replied from Misty's right.

     Misty nodded her head when her dad looked to her.

     "Alright, good. Everyone know their job, and who they're ridin' with?" Bill asked all the eager cowboys.

     Many murmurs and "Yessir's" filled the air. "Good. Pokey, all of the hay, feed, and tents all set to go on the truck?" When Pokey, the eldest cowboy nodded, Bill turned back to his excited group of men and said, "Alrighty then, let's head out." Trigger, Paul, and Nelson trotted their horses out to get into the lead; all of the ranch hands filed in behind them.

     Misty could not believe what just happened: her dad just blatantly placed Clay and her together, doing the job that required the most amount of sticking close together and the one that required you to have a pretty decent, compatible relationship with the person you were riding with. Picking up stragglers meant that you had to have one person be the boss and the other person willingly listen to whatever the boss tells them to do, or at least that's the experience that Misty had had whenever she rode the back of the herd. Also, the ride out to the herd of mustangs took two days, which meant that Misty and Clay would have to set up camp together and sleep under the same tent.

     Desperate to not have to ride with Clay, Misty's eyes searched the swarm of cowboys until she found who she was looking for. Misty asked her horse to trot to catch up with her closest friend out of all the ranch hands. She slowed her horse to a walk once she caught up with who she was trying to find. "Jace. I need to ask you a favor. Can you please switch places with me? Please? I cannot ride with Clay after what happened this morning." Misty pleaded with Jace.

     "Misty, I'm sorry, you know I flank better from the left side than I do the right. Besides, Howard and Trace might need my help." Jace winked at Misty.

     Misty rolled her eyes and groaned. "Jace, c'mon, I'm serious."

     "I am too. Besides," Jace looked over his shoulder towards Clay, then back to Misty, "This might be a good time for y'all to...get to know each other better." Jace smiled at Misty then took off at a lope to catch up with Howard and Trace.

     Misty sighed as she realized that there was no way that she was going to get out of this. She was going to have to ride with Clay. Telling herself to "cowgirl up" and get over it, Misty turned her horse around and rode back to Clay.

     "Hey, so I thought that we could start up on the ridge in the north pasture, then follow Roger and Waylon down. Your dad said that we then need to help Rowdy and Marshall on the right flank. That plan sound okay with you?" Clay started when Misty was just barely within earshot of him. Never once did he look at Misty; he kept his eyes focused ahead of him on the brown grass and dirt that stretched as far as the eye could see.

     Misty nodded, but when she realized that Clay didn't see, she said, barely audible, "Yeah." Almost immediately, she felt her cheeks heat up. 

     Clay turned his horse slightly to the left and Misty followed him as they made their way up to the north pasture, where all the mustangs had been found in the past.

     Misty and Clay slowly rode their horses up to the north, careful to start slow to not tire the horses on the first day. In the distance, they could hear some of the other cowboys shouting orders to their partners, but the voices faded as the cowboys rode further away. The whole round-up and process extended over about five to six days, some years it had taken over seven days; partially because the herd was so large, but also because the Triple M Ranch had been blessed over the years with many thousands of acres of ranch land. At a gallop, it took almost two full days from sun-up to sun-down just to reach the end of their property.

     "So, you've lived in Wyoming your whole life?" Clay's voice almost surprised Misty. He hadn't said anything to her for over an hour.

     Misty looked at Clay, but he never looked at her. "Yeah. Right here on this ranch. I've been taggin' along on this round-up since I was old enough to ride. But back then, it only took about three days, four tops. How about you? Have you lived here your whole life?"

     "Uh, yeah. I was born here, and lived here until I was about thirteen, then we moved to Montana for hopes of expanding our ranching business, but that fell through when the recession hit. After that, my family moved back here." Clay responded. He adjusted the dust rag that hung around his neck.

     Misty did some quick figuring and came to the conclusion that Clay was about twenty-two years old. For some reason, that surprised her. She always thought that he was older than that: about twenty-four or even twenty-five. He was the kind of guy who looked older than he really was. Whether if it was his square jaw line, or if it was his electric blue eyes, or his short beard, or his tan skin, or his black cowboy hat, or the way he looked in sunglasses, or his muscular body, or what. Whatever it was, there was something about him that made him look older than he really is. If he really was only twenty-two, then that made him only three years older than her, the perfect age difference. Misty tried to hide her excitement.

    "So, did y'all sell the ranch that you grew up on here in Wyoming when you moved to Montana?" Misty asked while Clay was still in the talking mood.

     "Let's pick up the pace a little." Clay started, squeezing his heels lightly against his horse's side, asking his horse into a trot. Misty followed his example. After a few minutes of trotting, Clay answered Misty's question. "No. We had family close by that took care of it while we lived in Montana, and occasionally, we would make a weekend trip to drive back here to check on the house and livestock. When we lost our house and business in Montana, we fortunately still had enough money to not have to sell our ranch here, but the first year was hard."

     "Yeah. That's really neat though that you got to live in Montana for a spell. I've always wanted to at least drive through it." Misty admitted. She secretly loved Montana, but had never been.

     "You've never been to Montana?" Clay seemed surprised. For the first time during the round-up, Clay looked at Misty.

     She met his gaze. "No; I've never been there."

     Looking back to the land in front of him, Clay replied, "I hope you get the opportunity to go someday. It's very beautiful. They don't call it 'big sky country' for no reason." Clay cast a glance at Misty, and smiled.

     Misty's heart melted. She had only seen him smile few times, and laugh even fewer times. Usually when he was smiling, it was either with his buddies or at Aubrey. "He really should smile more." Misty thought to herself. At that present time, Misty's crush on Clay grew bigger than his smile.

     After riding for another couple hours, Misty noticed that Clay had changed shirts after the breakfast fiasco, but was still wearing his chocolate chip pancake stained Wranglers. "Hey, about earlier today..." Misty looked at Clay. When he looked at her, she continued her comment. "I'm really sorry for spilling pancakes all over you. I don't know how it happened, but I'm really sorry."

     "No worries." Was all Clay replied. That was all he said for another hour or two, that is until he slowed his horse and looked up at the sky, then down to his watch. "It's noon. Are you hungry for lunch, or do you want to ride for another hour, then take a break?"

     "I could probably eat lunch about now." Misty replied. She also needed a break from her saddle. It wasn't her most comfortable saddle, but the one that she usually uses on these roundups needs some work. The horn broke off and the stirrup fender on the left side has almost completely tore off, so it's practically unrideable at this point, that is until she has time to get it fixed. 

     Without a word, Clay led his horse to a grove of trees to the right. Once they reached the few trees, Clay dismounted and tied his horse to one of the trees. Misty did the same. She grabbed a water canteen and a sandwich from her saddle pack, then sat back against one of the trees. It felt good to stretch her legs out straight. Removing her cowboy hat, Misty wiped her forearm across her forehead. Typical Wyoming weather: boiling hot, and it was only noon. By nine tonight, the temperature would drop down to about forty to forty-five degrees. Misty rolled the sleeves of her long sleeved pearl snap up to her elbows. She noticed that Clay did the same. Out of the corner of her eye, Misty also noticed Clay lift his dust rag and wipe off his forehead and neck.

     Clay sat down against the same tree that Misty sat at. He bowed his head in a quick prayer, then took a bite from his sandwich. Misty said teasingly, "Are you sure you want to sit here? I might somehow manage to spill my ham and cheese sandwich all over you." Granted, Clay wasn't sitting that close to Misty, but still, he was sitting at the same tree as she was...even though it was the only tree suitable for sitting against...either way, Misty would take what she could get.

     Clay chuckled a chuckle that was more like a scoff and went about eating his lunch without another word to Misty.

     Several minutes later, Clay stood up from his spot against the tree, and then did something that surprised Misty. He extended his hand out to her to help her up to her feet. Misty accepted it, even though she didn't need the help. Clay was much stronger than Misty expected. He pulled her up to her feet effortlessly, but quickly dropped her hand, making sure he didn't hold it a split second longer than necessary. Misty saw Clay wipe his hand on his jeans as if touching her hand was just that repulsive. Misty tried playing it off by wiping the dirt off of the back of her jeans, but inwardly, she was mulling over what Clay just did.

     "You ready to head back out?" Clay asked Misty from the left side of his horse.

     Misty responded by untying her horse and swinging up onto his back. Clay followed her lead and swung up on the back of his gelding.

     After riding for a couple more hours in mere silence, Misty and Clay rode up to one of streams on the ranch, and decided to try and let their horses drink some. Surprisingly, both horses drank some water, but then Misty's horse, Midnight, decided that he wanted to play in the stream. He began pawing the water, making it splash up onto Misty and Clay; he then began to spin around as if about to lay down and roll around in the water. Misty quickly kicked Midnight's sides and pulled his head up to avoid being laid on. Once she got her horse settled down, and walking straight, she heard a soft chuckle coming from Clay. This was only the second or third time that she had ever heard him laugh. He certainly had a nice laugh to accompany his smile.

     "What? I really don't want to be a horse sandwich." Misty smiled. "Don't laugh at me!" She said when Clay continued chuckling at her.

     "Oh, I wasn't laughing at you...I was just remembering when I first got Rusty here." Clay said, leaning forward to pat his gelding on the neck. "All of his previous owners gave up on him because he would try to lay down whenever you mounted him, and if you could get him past the initial mounting, he would try to lay down for the first ten or twenty minutes that you rode him. You could literally feel him fighting it when you got on. It was the funniest thing to watch. Like I said, all of his previous owners tried training him, but gave up on him. I'm way too stubborn to let a challenge like that get in my way though. So I bought Rusty for $1 when he was six and began his training. The owner right before me got so fed up with him that he wasn't ridden for almost two years. The owner was looking to downsize, so this guy was the first to go. Like I said, I love a challenge, and I had heard about the Stubborn Rusty Nail, but I had to see him myself to believe it. So I showed up at the guy's ranch to meet Rusty, then asked if I could hop on. The owner chuckled and said 'good luck'. So first, I tried bareback, as requested by the owner since Rusty hadn't been ridden much, but Rusty didn't like that too much. He tried to lay down right after I got on; he stood great when I put his bridle on and when I mounted him, it was just the second you swung up was when he started his caterwauling. I ground mounted him without using a block or anything, so Rusty was probably really confused as it was. Well, after I got on, Rusty tried laying down, but I kept a tight rein and my leg on him, and we eventually worked past that, well, then Rusty decided that me on his back was just so horrible that he went into a bucking fit. I reckon he figured that since I showed him who was boss once, he was goin' to try provin' to me he was still boss. As much as I hate to admit it, I got thrown, and pretty bad, but I always learned that you get up and right back on. So I did, but the owner made me put a saddle on first. After about three tries, I was finally able to get my foot in the stirrup and swing over without him tryin' to lay down on me. I rode him for a while that day, but he was goin' to take a lot of work. But there was something about him. And it was a challenge; I love a good challenge. So, I asked the guy how much he wanted for him, told me his wife said he had to get something for Rusty, so I offered $350, but his owner only let me pay one dollar. So, I took Rusty home and began his training. His registered name is 'Ole Stubborn Rusty Nail,' but I call him Rusty." Clay rubbed a hand over Rusty's mane and neck again before repeating, "Good ol' Trusty Rusty."  

    "So you train horses in your free time?" Misty asked. She was surprised to see that Clay was genuinely a sweet guy, once you got him talking. Now that they were much further and out of earshot of the other cowboys, Clay seemed to talk more.

     "Yeah, when I can. I've always loved rescue horses. Most of the horses on my family's ranch are rescues, trained ourselves. But, just for the record," Clay leaned to the side in his saddle to get closer to Misty. He glanced around before continuing. "I tell all the other cowboys that I got thrown four times and ended up with a broken wrist from the first time I jumped on. I always leave out the part about putting that saddle on. For some reason, us cowboys love a good wreck story; we all exaggerate. You could start a story out with training horses, and end up talkin' about the ten pound, fifteen inch fish you caught last week and no one would know you were lyin'." Clay sat up straight in saddle again. "But I would never exaggerate a story with you. Unless I was tryin' to impress you or something." Clay winked at Misty.

      With a chuckle, Misty replied, "I won't tell any of the other cowboys what really happened. Your secret's safe with me."

     Clay smiled. He looked around at the quickly darkening sky. "Man, it's about time to set up camp for the night. It's startin' to get dark already. Time flies when you're havin' fun, don't it?"

     "It certainly does." Misty replied, a smile on her face. She was starting to regret ever thinking that Clay is a rude, arrogant guy. Now that she has gotten to know him some, Misty is starting to realize that Clay is just a typical cowboy who doesn't talk much. His silence and shortness often rubs off as being rude, but it's just how he is.
   

      After another about twenty minutes, Clay and Misty finally arrived at the meeting place where the cowboys all met to pitch their tents for the night. Trigger, Nelson, Paul, Pokey, Junior, and Misty's dad were all already at the meeting place and setting up camp.

      "Hey y'all. How was the ride?" Misty's dad, Bill, asked.

     "It was good. We stopped for lunch and to let the horses drink from the stream." Misty told her dad. She swung down from Midnight's back. Once her feet hit the ground, she had to immediately reach a hand out to stabilize herself. Her legs were like jelly due to the long ride. Clay also dismounted and walked himself and Rusty over to talk to Trigger and Nelson.

     Once she was sure her legs would work, Misty walked over to the makeshift corral that her dad and some of the other hands had set up for the horses for the night. Misty began to untack Midnight. Just as she got the saddle off his back, Clay walked Rusty up beside her. His back was to Misty as he untacked his horse.

     "So since it's one tent for every two guys, I will sleep out by the fire tonight. You can have the tent." Clay offered Misty.

     "What? No. I ain't about to let you sleep in the cold on the hard ground. I can sleep in the tent with Junior. Trust me, it won't be the first time." Misty responded.

     "I don't want to kick you out of the tent; besides, I don't mind sleepin' under the stars, God's creation all around me." Clay set his saddle down on the ground as he ran a hand over his horse's back.

     "Thank you; I appreciate it, but Junior doesn't like sleeping by himself. My dad always gets his own tent; it's a one person sleeper. Junior always says he wants his own tent, but halfway through the night he always comes into my tent because he gets scared being by himself. So tonight, I think I will just save myself from loss of sleep and bunk with him. I really appreciate your offer, though." Misty slipped off Midnight's bridle, then sent him into the corral. Bridle in hand, Misty leaned against the corral fence as she smiled at Clay. "Maybe in two days when I get tired of Junior's 'cute' stories all night long, I'll take you up on your offer...or just make you sleep with him." Misty winked. She looked behind Clay to where Trace, Howard, and Jace all just rode up. They were the last cowboys staying at this camp; the other men all stayed at another camp on the other side of the property.

      Smiling, Misty walked over to where Jace had just dismounted his horse. "Hey, how was the ride?" Misty asked.

      "Fine." Jace replied simply.

      Misty walked with Jace as he walked his horse over to the corral. "Jace, you're limpin'; what happened?"

     "The rookie made a...rookie mistake." Jace replied. "And my horse spooked and I got thrown."

     "Geez...that doesn't sound very good; I'm sorry. Are you gonna be okay?" Misty asked, concerned for her friend.

     "Yeah, I'll be fine. I just landed on my ankle wrong. I'll take some aspirin once we get settled in."

     "Okay. Do you need help untacking Bailey?" Misty asked, pointing to Jace's horse.

     Jace rolled his eyes and looked at Misty. "Misty..." Jace started.

     "You're right. Okay. Okay. Backing off now." Misty said, stepping back and holding up her hands in defense.

     Jace loosened the cinch on his saddle before looking over his shoulder to Clay. Smiling at Misty, Jace said, "Maybe you should go ask your boyfriend if he needs help with his horse. He's been brushin' him for a while now."

     Misty looked back over her shoulder at Clay. She noticed that he was looking at Misty and Jace, but quickly looked away before him and Misty could make eye contact. "He's not my boyfriend." Misty defended, rolling her eyes at Jace.

     Jace looked at Clay once more. Leaning in so Clay couldn't hear, Jace asked, "Are you sure about that? Because he keeps lookin' over here. You better go over there so he don't get jealous of us talkin'." Jace smiled at Misty.

     "You hush up." Misty returned, teasingly slugging her friend.

     Jace took his lariat off of his saddle and uncoiled it, throwing it towards Misty, making her back up towards Clay. "Go on. Git. Go talk to your cowboy."

     Misty chuckled and turned to walk away, but not towards Clay. "You're unbelievable." Misty teasingly said to Jace.

     After supper, Misty walked over to the little makeshift table that was set up where all the food and drinks were supplied. She reached for the container that held powered cocoa. Opening the lid, Misty scooped out a couple spoon-fulls and stirred them in to her mug of hot water. Just as she set the spoon aside, Clay walked up beside Misty. "Hey." Misty greeted Clay.

     "Hey." Clay said, scooping out some of the cocoa for himself. "So, I gotta ask you something..." Clay started.

     "Sure." Misty responded, taking a sip of her steaming hot chocolate.

     Clay leaned back against the table, crossing his ankles. "You and Jace...how long have y'all been together?"

     Misty almost spit out her hot chocolate all over Clay. Coughing slightly from the hot water burning her throat, Misty responded, "Me and Jace? We are just friends. Have been forever."

     "Oh, so y'all aren't datin'?" Clay asked, giving Misty a look.

     Misty snorted. "No. Absolutely not. I don't have a boyfriend. There's never been a guy romantically interested in me ever." Fingering her mug, Misty said, "And there probably never will be." She tried saying it quietly, but it came out still audible by Clay.

     After taking a sip of his chocolate, Clay responded, "You don't know that. I'm sure that there are guys who have liked you."

     "And that is where you are wrong, cowboy." Misty grinned and patted Clay's shoulder. Retreating her hand, Misty continued, "But, it's okay. If God wants me to have a boyfriend, he will give me one. If it isn't in His will, I know I will be okay with it because it is His plan for me." Misty sipped her drink to try to hide the lie that she told. Truth is, she really wanted a boyfriend, but she knows that God's plan is always the best, even if the result isn't what she wanted.

     "Well, I think it's safe to say that I'm sure that at least one guy on this roundup has a thang for you." Clay smiled a knowing smile.

     Misty chuckled. "Now you're just tryin' to make me feel good. All these guys here are either my buddies, married, or too old for me. No one here likes me, but I appreciate the compliment."

     "Well, we shall see about that, darlin'." Clay smiled a cockeyed grin before walking away with his hot chocolate in his hand.

     All of the guys, and Misty, sat around the campfire and listened to Pokey play funny cowboy songs on his guitar. After one hilarious song about being bucked off a horse, Misty heard a small voice on her right call her name.

     Looking down to where her little brother was resting his head on her shoulder, Misty asked, "Yes, Junior?"

     "I'm plum tuckered. Can you please come tuck me in?" Junior's voice was quiet, and already half asleep.

     "Yeah, go ahead and brush your teeth and change into your pajamas and I will be in in just a minute, okay?" Misty took another sip of her now cold hot chocolate.

     An exhausted Junior groggily got up and shuffled his way into the tent. Misty went in to check on him less than ten minutes later to find Junior fast asleep on top of his sleeping bag, still fully dressed, boots and all. Smiling, Misty quietly slipped into her pajamas, and after brushing her teeth and taking out her braid, she slipped into her own sleeping bag.

     All of the cowboys were awaken before daybreak the next morning. After their stiff bodies woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, and packed up camp for the day, they all saddled up their horses. Once everyone was mounted, and with their groups, Bill made his announcements. "Now, as most of y'all know, tonight is the night where we all sleep at our own camps in our groups. This means that, veterans, y'all make the decision where to set up camp, and you must use your walkie-talkies to tell us your coordinates whenever y'all set up camp for the night." Bill gave more instructions before sending his men out.

     The day went about how the second day of roundup always goes...long and tiring. It was basically endless hours of riding across open pasture with the mountains in the background, but no matter how long you ride, nothing ever seems to come closer.

     Once the sky started to get dark, Clay and Misty found a good stop to set up camp for the night. "I'll start getting the tent up if you want to radio your dad and tell him where we are for the night." Clay said. It was one of the very few things that he had said to Misty all day. About a quarter of the way through the ride, Misty could no longer stand the silence and had pulled out one of her books from her saddle bag. Reaching into her saddle bag now, she replaced her book with the walkie-talkie.

     "Sure. Thank you." Misty replied to Clay as she tried to get a clear connection trough to her dad. "Dad, its Misty." She said into the radio.

      After a few seconds, Bill came over on his line, "Yup. Go ahead, sweetheart."

     "Just wanted to let you know that Clay and I are at camp. Our coordinates are..." Misty gave the coordinates of their location. Because Misty's family's ranch is so large, one group of cowboys could be fairly far away from another group. As a result, Bill always has his hands send him the coordinates of their location whenever they set up camp on the second night of the roundup.

     After Misty's conversation with her dad was over, she turned to untack her horse. "Clay, would you like me to untack Rusty for you?" Misty asked Clay who was now busy making a fire for them.

     Looking over his shoulder, Clay glanced at Rusty, then to Misty. "Sure, if you don't mind. I will start supper for us then." Clay stood up and walked over to Rusty and Misty. "I just gotta see what Pokey put in my saddle bag." Clay reached into the bag and pulled out a can of soup. Reading the label, he said, "Beef stew with country vegetables." Looking up to where Misty was untacking Midnight, Clay smiled. "Does that sound good to you?"

     Misty set Clay's saddle and pad down on the ground between her and Clay. "That sounds fine, but how are fixin' to cook it when Pokey and my dad have all the cooking supplies?"

     "Never worry, my dear, a cowboy always comes prepared." Clay again reached into his Mary-Poppins-like saddle bag and presented a small sauce pan.

     Misty chuckled. "Nice. Do you have bowls or mugs for us in there too?"

     Clay peered into his saddle bag. "Nope, but I do have spoons. So we will be good." Clay smiled, then took his prized possessions over to the campfire.

     Misty found herself grinning as she finished untacking the horses. This roundup had definitely not gone how she expected, but in this case, that was a good thing. Even though Clay was talking to her more, Misty still felt like he didn't really notice her. To him, she was just another one of the cowboys on this roundup. Nonetheless, if anything else, Misty would be able to walk away at the end of the roundup knowing that she had made a new friend in Clay. Friends...that's all they would ever be. It was better that Misty realize that now rather than getting her hopes up and getting hurt later. The sad realization reminded Misty that no guy has ever liked her, and no guy may never. Especially a guy like Clay.