A Haven for Christmas by Patricia Davids

Author:Patricia Davids
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-08-12T15:04:25+00:00

Chapter Nine

Tully took the rope from Danny with a hand that was surprisingly steady considering there had to be close to three dozen people watching him. He hadn’t held a lariat in ten years. Not since his uncle had sold Tully’s horse, saddle and almost everything else his grandfather had given him before putting him on a bus and sending him to a boarding school in New Orleans. His uncle had claimed that Tully needed a more rounded education, when what he really needed was a home. It was an arrangement that hadn’t worked for Tully. He took off on his own two months later.

He glanced at Becca. She looked worried. Was she concerned that he was going to make a fool of himself? Because he was pretty sure that’s what Danny was hoping to see. He held on to the tail of the rope and tossed it out in front of him.

“Do you trip cattle with the rope?” Danny asked and chuckled.

“I’m sure there’s more to the skill than that,” Becca said.

Tully looked at her. If she was so eager to defend him, he couldn’t let her down. He hoped.

“A lariat, or lasso as it is sometimes called, has to be coiled properly before a fellow can throw it.” Tully began gathering the rope into even-size rings, flipping it to make it lie flat in his grip.

“I told you he was a real cowboy,” he heard Annabeth whisper to another little girl beside her. He looked over the schoolboys.

“Which one of you is Otto?”

One boy of about ten or so took a step forward. “I am.”

He had the same defiant gleam in his eyes that Tully had worn like a badge through his childhood. Tully pulled in the last of the rope and started to shake out a loop. “The eye that the rope goes through is called a hondo. You don’t hold it. You want to make a loop and hold on to the rope about an arm’s length away from the hondo. We call this length the shaft or spoke. See how I’ve got my index finger pointing down the shaft where I’m holding both sections together? That is the key to controlling where the rope will go. And just so you know, Otto, there are cowboys in every state, including Maine. Bull riders, bronc riders, calf ropers—they’re everywhere. Of course, the best cowboys are from Oklahoma, if you ask me. You want to step out there about ten feet?”

The boy crossed his arms over his chest. “Not really.”

Tully chuckled. “Okay. How about you, Danny? Do you want to be my target?”

Danny shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Becca walked out in front of the group with her chin held high. “Is this far enough?”

Bless her heart. It seemed one person had faith in him, and that was enough. “Cover your face with your hands so the rope doesn’t scratch you.”

“I will do it,” Danny said suddenly.

Tully shook his head. “Nope. You had your chance. The lady is willing, and I’m gonna oblige her.

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