Chapter 2

The entire crowd held its breath. She couldn’t see Spencer from her position, but she could imagine him. Wrapping his right hand in the rope. Settling his weight over the panting bull. Checking the rope once more. Taking a deep breath. Maybe saying a prayer. Did Spencer pray? She never asked, but it seemed likely. She would be praying to every god and goddess she ever heard of if she were about to ride a bull like Rusty Jack Knife.

The gate flew open and the bull burst into the arena, all four feet in the air. The launch flung Spencer back, but he kept his seat and managed to adjust his weight before the bull went into the air again. Her heart began to lift. He could do this.She brought the camera up to her eye. He’s going to ride this sonofabitch

Rusty Jack Knife became a red and brown blur as he went into the air again and turned a full one hundred and eighty degrees. When he came back down on his front legs, Spencer slammed forward. The momentum was too much, and he didn’t catch himself before the bull jerked its head back.

Everybody in the arena heard the collision between Rusty Jack Knife’s head and Spencer’s face.

The clock stopped at six seconds, the ride disqualified as soon as Spencer touched the bull. A split second later, everybody in the arena realized something had gone horribly wrong. Instead of untying his hand from the thick rope, Spencer flopped backward. Rusty, still kicking its hind feet with every step, began to spin.

Rebecca’s mind flashed to when her father took her to the Utah State Fair. She had been eight. He had bought a ticket for unlimited rides. The giant, rotating swing had fascinated Rebecca. She remembered standing at the base of the ride, watching as it spun faster and faster, until all the swings stuck straight out, extended horizontally by the centrifugal force.

Spencer was extended like that now, flying out from the bull, his arm still caught in the rope. She heard gasps, shouts, and cries. Everybody moved at once. The bullfighters jumped into the arena first, one trying to distract the bull, the other rushing to free the rope, anything except comical in their face paint, wigs, and colorful clothing. Each time they got close, the bull shifted out of reach, its sides still heaving, its feet still dancing in a tight circle. Rebecca held her breath until her lungs ached. An eternity later, the clown pulled the rope free and Spencer hit the ground. The bull, its anger soothed as soon as it lost the cowboy, trotted out of the arena without further trouble.

But Spencer didn’t move.

Her shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but somehow, Rebecca pushed through the throng, fighting her way to the arena exit. A strong hand curled around her arm, and she yanked against it, trying to get free.

“You can’t go out there.” Max dug his fingers in harder, pinching the fleshy muscle. “You know that, Becky.”

She probably outweighed Max by fifty pounds but he was still stronger than her. “You were watching. You saw what happened to him.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re going to bend the rules for you. You have to wait until they bring him out.”

She didn’t care. “Did you see him? He’s not moving, Max. Not. Moving. You know that’s not good.”

“Rules are rules.”

“They’re stupidrules!”

“They wouldn’t let you out there, even if you were married to him.” Firmly, but gently, he began walking, not releasing her. It only took two steps for Rebecca to realize he was leading her to the gate where they’d bring Spencer out.

As soon as the ambulance rolled out into the arena, Rebecca broke away from Max and ran to Spencer. The EMTs were securing his neck and spine, and his eyes were closed. His face was already turning different shades of blue and purple, and his eyes were swollen, his nose bleeding. He didn’t seem responsive or aware at all. Nobody noticed her until she gasped, a strangled, shocked sound.

“Are you going to ride with him to the hospital, ma’am? Ma’am?”

She barely heard him. Spencer’s lips were moving. She strained her ears. Had he said her name? Did he know she was there?

“Ma’am?”

“Yes, yes, I’m going.” Who else would go? He didn’t have anybody else in town.

The EMTs carefully hoisted the stretcher. The fans erupted in clapping and cheers as they loaded Spencer into the ambulance, and Rebecca hoped he heard them, hoped he knew they were all applauding him. The bullfighters waved their hats in the air, encouraging a louder response, and began stomping their feet. Soon, the entire arena vibrated with the force of their encouragement. Rebecca didn’t make a sound. She only stared at Spencer’s mouth, willing his lips to move again.