Karma beat me, but I’m not too far behind. He’s just dismounted his horse as mine scurries into the courtyard.
“You’re getting better by the day,” he says, an appreciative smile on his face. “Once you’ve been to Lhasa and back, who knows, you might even be able to keep up with me.”
I catch my breath and pass up the opportunity to react. Swiftly, I slide off my horse.
“Loser takes care of the horses.” He hands me the reins of his horse and gestures to the back of the house. “Looks like you’re going that way, anyway.”
Over his shoulder I see Father. He’s waiting for me at the pen.
“Yep,” I say and try to hide the feverish excitement of our encounter with a casual nod. Racing home in Karma’s trail, it hit me—he rode out to meet me at the ngakpa’s, ensuring me again that he came here
