Point of View
Part 1 Damn, it was hot. Wishing once again that I'd been born in Alaska instead of Oregon, I strolled around the practice rings and holding pens. The rodeo was in full swing as the July heat rose in waves from the dry, dusty earth. I'd been looking for an hour now and still hadn't found man nor beast. I decided my best shot at locating Curt was the field where the pick-ups and horse trailers were parked. I searched the field methodically until I came across the truck I would know...