Page 272 of The Texas Sterling Collection
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“Hey, Joey.” Felix caught up to him. “What’s the matter? You act sad.”
“Aw, nothing.” Joey kept walking toward the barn, not looking at Felix.
Felix longed to put his arm around Joey’s shoulders and comfort him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Despite Pa Sterling’s speech about people, Felix was still not accustomed to having a friend. After their talk last night, he didn’t want to scare Joey away.
“Joey, you said yesterday that friends…best friends in our case…can talk to each other about anything. I’m still learning to be a friend, but I can tell something is wrong.”
“It’s something I need to deal with myself, okay?” Irritation coated Joey’s words.
"Okay." Felix figured their conversation had affected Joey. He wondered what best friends did to help each other when one was troubled. He liked the friendly banter he and Joey shared and wanted more of it. How could he help Joey? He didn’t know, so he said the only thing he could think of. “I’m here if you need me.”
They walked into the barn, and Felix inhaled the pungent aroma of hay and horses that he liked. That aroma would always remind him of Sterling Ranch and of Joey. “What can I help with?”
“I’ll fetch a rope and the roping dummy. You meet me in the corral.” Joey ignored Felix’s offer of help and turned to the tack room.
Felix stopped to stroke Sparkle’s muzzle and whispered, “What’s wrong with Joey?” Sparkle shook his head as if he understood. After scratching Sparkle’s ear, Felix walked into the corral and waited for Joey. His heart ached for his friend.
Joey carried a wooden roping dummy to the other side of the corral. To Felix, it resembled a sawhorse or at least pictures of a sawhorse, with a wooden head-shaped extension on one end, with horns, and a rope tail on the other. Joey positioned the dummy and took the coiled rope from around it before sauntering back toward Felix.
“I forgot gloves.” Joey nodded toward the open barn door. “Would you grab a couple of pairs for us?”
“Sure.” Felix rushed to the tool stall to fetch the gloves. He wanted to please Joey and pull him out of his funk. His boots clomped in the loose dirt as he hurried back to Joey. He offered one pair in each hand, letting Joey pick. “Which pair do you want?”
“It don’t matter.” Joey coiled the lariat in his hands, not looking at Felix.
Felix extended the pair with less wear.
“Thanks,” The flat tone in Joey’s voice said everything. Something troubled him enough to make him sad.
Not knowing how to help, Felix tugged on his gloves. “What do I do?”
Joey handed the rope to Felix and then tugged on his gloves. He opened his hand for the rope, wordlessly expecting it.
Felix complied. “Did I do something wrong? You act like you’re upset with me.”
Joey shook his head. “I’m not upset with you. I have things to think about.”
“Okay.” He still shouldered the burden of Joey's troubles, regardless of Joey's denial. Maybe their talk last night didn’t turn out the way Joey wanted. He seemed fine until Ma Sterling mentioned Felix returning to Blackfield. Did Joey dread the end of summer?
Joey showed Felix how to hold the lariat and then demonstrated how to throw. Felix paid close attention, and when Joey handed the lariat to him, he mimicked Joey’s actions, missing the dummy the first three times he tried. At last, the loop caught on one of the horns. “Hey…I got it.” Felix beamed.
Joey forced a smile. “You sure did. Now keep working at it.”
Felix gathered the lariat and threw again. Joey coached him with simple directions of a few words. Neighbors five miles away could sense the tension flowing from Joey, but Felix focused on his roping.
They took a break for lunch and headed back to the house. Their walk lacked the cheerful banter they always shared. Instead, stone-cold silence chilled the air between them. At the house, Felix held the door for Joey. Joey walked in without a smile or a thank you.
They washed, then sat at the table in their usual places.
“How did the roping go, Felix?” Grover asked as Mabel placed platters of sliced ham, bread, and tomatoes on the table. A jar of homemade pickles and a bowl of homemade butter accompanied the sandwich meal.
“I think I did okay,” Felix said. “And Joey taught me well. By the end of the morning, I roped the dummy almost every time.”
“Sounds like you’re going to have competition, Joey,” Mabel said.
“Yeah, I guess,” Joey muttered, stuffing a pickle into his mouth to avoid conversation.
