Jase Wheaton looked at the back of the lean bull, about to live through the longest 8 seconds of his life… again. The roar of the crowd throbbed in his chest. He loved the screaming mass of people. This was what riding a ton of angry animal was all about.
He straddled the bull sandwiched in the chute without lowering onto his back just yet. He eyed the arena all the way around. Nothing looked out of place, but earlier in the week nothing had seemed off either. Slowly lowering his weight onto the bull, he let himself get used to the animal’s movements before he waxed his glove and wound the rope around his hand. As ready for the unexpected as he could be.
The promenade around the ring was packed with people. Security would have no way to tell if any of them didn’t belong. He saw no sign of long coats or scarves, nothing more distracting than usual. At his last ride, someone had thrown a wispy scarf into the ring, letting it float to the ground. Maybe they thought they were being romantic, but the bull had tossed him. Hard. The bull fighters had saved him with their quick thinking and fast action, but it had been too close for his comfort.
In all his years of riding, nothing like that had happened. No matter how he tried to dispel the fear in the back of his mind, the thought held on as tenaciously as he held onto the rope around the bull. Someone had been out to get him.
Chad, his friend and fellow rider, stood next to him mouthing a prayer for safety and encouragement. “You ready?” The man might be his competitor, but they were friends first. Jase nodded, and Chad patted the bull’s flank. Then the gate swung wide. Go time.
Jase flexed the muscles in his legs and held onto the rope.
Pure adrenaline pumped through him. The first buck was always like the initial drop on a roller coaster, only faster. The bull’s broad back twitched with energy as Jase moved with the animal, not against him, anticipating his reactions.
One second down.
Funny how his brain had learned just how long eight seconds really were and how much time he needed to stay seated. The bull pitched in an unexpected direction, then another, flinging its back legs up higher than a one-ton animal ever should.
Five seconds.
With surprising speed, the bull whipped back. A person in a fluttery blue coat had attracted the animal’s attention. Red coloring didn’t anger bulls like people thought. It was the wave motion of the fabric, just like the scarf days before. Even a bouncing ball could infuriate them.
No. Not again . . . He tried to adjust and guess what the bull would do next.
Sitting on a bull was the last place he wanted time to slow down. Jase held on tight, his gaze fixated on the person holding their coat high in the air and waving it like a flag. The bull snorted and charged toward the spectator as they egged on the animal. Holding onto a bucking bull took skill. A charging bull was almost impossible.
Jase gripped the rope, but the wax was no match for the strength and continual force of the ride. The bull rammed head on into the guardrail as the coat quivered to the ground. Jase’s body slammed into the barrier, knocking his head and shoulder against the metal tube. The bull raced around in a wide circle, chasing after the bull fighters. A prayer formed in his head that they could distract him, but couldn’t fall from Jase’s lips.
Head down, the animal charged. All Jase could see were the eyes and horns. A vision of home flashed before his eyes.
A bull fighter raced in from the side and tapped the animal’s head, then dodged back. That was usually enough to distract the bull away from his target. The bull flung its head away from the bullfighter and went right on, charging toward him. Jase curled into a ball to protect as much as he could and braced for impact. He couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of the hooves.
Praise God, the bull’s horns scraped under his chest and hip, flinging him into the air like a toy doll. As he crashed to the ground in a heap, he assumed he’d feel pain, but his brain hadn’t caught up yet. In the next moment, a woman kneeled by his side. That’s when the awareness of what he’d been through came to the front of his mind and the pain along with it.
“Hey, I’ve got you. Let’s try to move somewhere a little safer to check you over. Okay?” The beautiful nurse with chocolate brown hair looked him in the eye, but didn’t wait for his response.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. At least, the last thing he’d seen was beauty.
* * *
Kelly Laine glanced over her shoulder as the bullfighters worked to get the bull in the exit chute. Good thing she’d worn her blue scrubs and not her red ones. Finally, a rider came out and roped the confused animal. Oddly, tethering him seemed to turn the animal into a great big pet and he followed the rider like a well-trained dog.
She stretched her back after helping gently load the prone rider onto a gurney. Usually, the riders tried to walk—or limp—out of the arena on their own two feet to reassure the crowd. But Jase Wheaton, the star of the show, wasn’t getting up if she had anything to say about it.
At least he’d worn protective gear to guard his ribs and head. All good, but not enough. Nothing was better medicine than holding still. At least until they could look him over for internal injuries. He wasn’t fighting her and trying to get up, so she didn’t have to argue with him at least.
Once they safely strapped Jase in, she let her teammates wheel him toward the opening where they’d come out. They would head back to the ambulance where she could get a better look at his injuries. The crowd gave a final yell of encouragement as she closed the ambulance door.
She’d been at the rail in the crowd on a very brief break, grabbing a sandwich so she could stay awake. The person who dropped their coat had been standing next to her. Waving the coat had seemed like such a silly thing to do. Especially after the outcome.
As she checked Jase’s vitals and got an IV going, she mentally shook her head. Riding a bull for money… Then again, she put herself in danger all the time as an EMT, so perhaps she shouldn’t cast stones. She waited until Max and Mike, her EMT team, pulled onto the street before attaching the fluids to the drip line.
When she taped the tube to the back of his hand, his lashes opened and steely gray eyes hit her, holding her still with their strength. He was totally the bull-rider type. His lanky body had a toned physique and a ready half-smile that seemed to know he had the world by the horns, if not the ladies by the heart.
He wasn’t overly tall, perhaps just under six feet, with slightly longish hair in a sandy blond that curled slightly around his ears. One of her teammates had removed his helmet, and he now wore a neck brace, holding him motionless.
“Where am I?” he mumbled.
She added a strip of tape to his wrist, holding the tube out of the way. “You’re in the back of my ambulance on the way to the hospital. Do you have a preference for which one?” she asked, to joke a little. Sometimes a bit of silliness made people in his situation feel better.
“I’d say you probably already have a destination in mind. Since I rarely control my ride, I’ll defer this one to you.” He closed his eyes and winced. “Worse than last time.”
She shook her head, waiting to hear the extent of his injuries last time. So many of these riders had old broken bones and were forced to retire young, only to be just as beat up on the ranches waiting for them. At least there they had family.
“When was that?” She noted his vitals, now stable. They’d been a mess at first.
“Days ago. Last time I rode. What day is it?” He winced again.
She brushed the hair from his forehead, surprised at its softness. She hoped he was only trying to get the hair out of his eyes, but feared there was worse damage. “It’s Friday night.”
“Someone threw a scarf into the arena on Tuesday. My bull raged, but I made it out with only a little bruising.” He pressed against his stomach and tried to flex his neck like it hurt.
She wondered if the bruising was external or internal. “Stop. We need to get you into Xray. Then you can move. I think you’re confused. That’s what happened tonight, but it wasn’t a scarf. A woman in a blue coat accidentally let it go and…” She didn’t finish. He didn’t need to know the result, he’d lived it.
“It happened both days.” He looked into her eyes, begging for her to believe him.
Had he hit his head hard enough to scramble his memories, or was he telling the truth? What was the mathematical possibility of two people losing clothing in an arena during the same rider’s bull ride? She was no great fan of the sport, but it seemed unlikely.
“Both?”
He tried to sit up, and she pressed against his muscled chest, firmly but not forcefully, in case he had injuries she couldn’t see. “You think I’m being irrational, that I hit my head too hard. Go ahead, look the story up on the web. It happened.” He flopped back against the pillow and groaned. “I’m not staying in the hospital overnight. I can’t.”
Riders rarely had insurance, and while there were relief funds available to help injured riders and their families, they couldn’t help everyone. “But you’re hurt. It could be serious.”
“It’ll be even more serious if I don’t ride in the championship. I’m at the top. If I win, I get my buckle and win the prize money. Three years in a row. Maybe if I earn it, I’ll have enough saved up to go home for a while.” He clenched his eyes closed so tightly it scrunched his face.
For three years and indubitably more, he’d risked his life riding animals people had no business riding on. She tuned out his words and set to fixing the damage the bull had done. As she felt for broken bones, watching his face for a reaction, he remained still. Even when she prodded down his legs, which would be some of the most likely bones to break. His reactions showed general soreness, but nothing she did made him jump. Good. The big bones took the longest to heal.
They pulled into the emergency dock and Mike jumped from the driver’s seat to help unload Jase and get him into the ER. Jase tried to shake his head, but he was obviously in so much pain he couldn’t say no. The attending nurse took over for Kelly and she watched them wheel him to a room. She almost wished she could stay and find out if he would be all right.
Nothing happened by chance. There was a reason for him to be there that night. She grabbed her phone and did a quick search for his name. Sure enough, there was an article from earlier in the week talking about the accident and how no one had claimed the scarf afterward.
Kelly tried to remember what the person looked like who’d lost their coat, but all she could remember was the bull bearing down on Jase. She could recall her momentary green, clawing jealousy of the long, flowing coat. But with a large cowboy hat on, Kelly couldn’t even recall the person’s hair color.
Mike came up, tugging off his gloves by turning them inside out. “Only one more hour. If you’ll help me scrub the bus, we can go grab some coffee before we head home.” It wasn’t really a question, because he knew she’d say no. Her policy was to never start relationships with people she worked with or on, which meant she never dated. Who else did she meet?
Mike was a good friend, but she hated going out after work. Twelve-hour shifts were long enough. He often complained about her refusal to go out unless she was working. Maybe he was right, but she was too tired to enjoy the time. “I’ll help with the clean-up, then I’m going home. There’s a pillow waiting there with my name on it.”
At least she’d get home by midnight and wouldn’t have to fall asleep during the day. Her shifting schedule often made sleeping difficult, no matter how tired she felt.
Kelly pushed through the emergency doors, and a group of Jase’s fans waited outside. One man shoved to the front with an attractive woman clutched to his side. “Is Jase going to be okay?” he asked. She couldn’t see his face well with his broad hat and even the security lights didn’t reach through the shadows.
She took a step back, away from him, feeling boxed in by the crowd. “I’m sorry. I can’t say anything about his status.” She hated that part of her job. These people just wanted to hear Jase was going to be okay, but she couldn’t legally tell them anything. She wasn’t a doctor and didn’t know their relationship to Jase.
One woman forced her way in front of everyone else. Kelly immediately assumed she was Jase’s girlfriend and hated herself for thinking he was too good for her. The woman’s dark hair was pulled back in what looked like a simple ponytail, but the curled tendrils perfectly surrounding her face said it was anything but. Her boots matched her outfit and the turquoise purse on her shoulder set off the entire look. Kelly instantly felt the nagging voice in her head she’d heard since she was a child. She would never be as put-together or beautiful.
“We just want to know if he’s alive. He got trampled and thrown by a bull. Is telling us how he’s doing too much to ask?” She snapped her gum and glared at Kelly.
Mike stepped in, thankfully. “He’s still being seen by a doctor. We got him here in one piece. Our job is done. You’re welcome to go inside and wait in the waiting area.”
Kelly glanced at Mike and nodded a thank you, but her thoughts were still firmly with Jase. Was it safe to send these people in there when someone might be trying to kill him? Even as she had the thought, she dismissed it. Who would ever believe someone would try to kill a rodeo rider in such an unlikely way?
Doing so would leave no evidence. She glanced back at the group and tried to commit them all to memory. Maybe Jase would need her to remember when he made it out of examination. She said a quick prayer for his recovery and headed for the ambulance. Only one more hour until she could go home.