Most of the time.
It was only every now and then that it didn’t.
There’d be something that went beyond discomfort and then, wham, the knifelike pain and his damned leg would go out from under him…
Like now.
“Fuck,” he snarled, and went down in a graceless heap.
His heart was hammering. His leg was burning. He was shaking. Even so, he dragged in a breath, tried to struggle to his feet…
A shadow blocked out the sun.
“So what’s this, dude? A scene from Braveheart? Maybe a bad attempt at Shakespeare on the Beach?”
Tanner grunted. “Very amusing, Olivieri. Now do me a favor and go away. Can’t you see I’m working on my tan?”
Chayton Olivieri, who had grown up with Tanner in the Dakotas, dropped to the sand beside him.
“Really? ‘ Cause, you know, your face is kinda pale for a guy workin’ on his tan.”
Shit. Chay wasn’t going to give up. There was no way out except to deal with it.
“Hell of a thing,” Tanner said. “Calling a Lakota brother a paleface.”
Chay laughed. Tanner did his best to make a similar sound. After a few seconds, Chay reached for the canteen hanging from a loop on his belt
“Hot today,” he said.
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”
Chay brought the canteen to his lips. “Man, that’s good.” He drank, drank again, then held out the canteen. “Don’t suppose you’d want some water.”
Want some? Just the sight of the canteen made Tanner suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was. He’d brought water with him, of course, but he’d finished it at least a mile ago.
“No, but what the fuck, I have a kind heart. I’ll take a couple of sips so you don’t have to be burdened carrying all that extra weight back to camp.”
Chay handed him the canteen. Tanner tilted back his head, lifted the canteen to his mouth and guzzled the cool liquid. Halfway through, he paused and offered the canteen to Chay, who shook his head. Tanner drank again and felt better almost immediately. The few minutes’ rest, the water…
That was all he’d needed.
Absolutely, it was.
Chay waited a few seconds, then cleared his throat.
“So what was this? A five-mile run?”
“Seven,” Tanner said, “but who’s counting?”
“I thought you were supposed to be working up to five.”
“The way you work up to something is to do it.”
“Never occurred to you that you were getting dehydrated?”
Tanner sighed. “No, Mom, I guess it didn’t.”
“Can the ‘Mom’ crap, okay?” Chay glared at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re an asshole.”