Page 75 of Rough Ride

Johnny reached inside his flannel shirt and pulled out his medal. It was circular, made of gold, with an engraving of a cowboy wrestling a steer in the center.

“I was indeed there,” I admitted, “and I saw your performance. Consider me impressed.”

“It’s amazing what someone can do when they’re not nursing the world’s biggest hangover,” he replied.

I glanced at Sawyer on the left. “You looked sharp out there, too. Where’s your medal?”

“Unlike these two,” Sawyer said with a sneer, “I don’t need to broadcast my success.”

“That’s great for you,” Johnny said, patting him on the back. Then he turned to the two men on the other side of Sawyer and said, “Were y’all at the rodeo tonight? I got first place. No big deal.” He held out his medal for the men to admire.

“Preening like a goddamn peacock,” Sawyer muttered. “I expect it from Elijah, but not you.”

I laughed, and Sawyer’s bloodshot eyes cut over to me for a moment. Did he look satisfied at making me laugh? Surely not.

“Christina Applecock was mighty unhappy with the disqualification,” Eli told me. “I haven’t seen someone cry that much since my buddy Eric smashed his teeth on the playground in third grade.”

“He wasn’t the only one unhappy about it,” I muttered. “I was working the section next to Ted Salmon’s booth. As soon as the judges made their ruling, he made a phone call and left the arena.”

“Shit’s rigged,” one of the other patrons at the bar announced. “I’m telling you. They won’t let Appleton lose. He’s too popular.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Eli agreed. Johnny nodded along, but said nothing.

I turned to Sawyer. “What do you think?”

Sawyer narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t have an opinion on the subject.”

“That’s a boring answer,” Eli said.

“If it were rigged, then why’d they disqualify him?” Sawyer asked.

“Because it was too obviousnotto,” Eli replied.

Sawyer shrugged.

I placed three glasses in front of them, then held up a bottle. “Yamazaki 18. Best whiskey we have in the building. But it’s eighty bucks a glass.”

Johnny’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Eli clapped him on the back. “After the prize purse he won tonight? He can afford it.”

“Japanese whiskey?” Sawyer asked with a twist of his mouth. “That’s better than anything local?”

“I promise you it is,” I replied.

I waited until Johnny nodded, then filled the three glasses.

Eli started to say, “Can I get—”

Johnny turned and interrupted him. “If you ask for ice in thisveryexpensive whiskey, I’m gonna fight you.”

Eli closed his mouth, and pouted a little.

“No bar fights,” I loudly said. “Take that shit over to Mule Alley if you want to act like children.” Then I lowered my voice. “I know you’re not really going to get into a brawl. But we’re required to discourage fighting.”

Eli raised his glass first. “To the medals y’all earned tonight.”

“To Chris Appleton losing,” Johnny said.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll drink to that.” Sawyer knocked back the entire whiskey in one gulp.

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