“Oh, God.”
“It’ll be all right.” Dusty quietly toyed with Diablo’s braided rope, tightly fastening it to her right hand. She was vaguely aware of more onlookers surrounding the practice ring, speaking in hushed voices. “That’s a good boy. Such a good, big boy.” She looked at Harper. “I’m ready. Unlatch the gate, and then get outside the ring. As soon as I tug on his rope he’ll get mad, but I can handle him, I promise.”
“Good Lord…”
“And don’t forget to check the time on your watch as you unlatch.”
Dusty shut her eyes and tried to reach Diablo mentally as she heard Harper unlatch the gate and swing it open. In a flash, Dusty opened her eyes and gave Diablo’s rope a good yank. The bull bounded out into the ring, bucking and spinning.
So far, so good. Dusty could handle this. She continued talking to Diablo, hoping her voice would gentle him. Diablo knew his role well. He twisted. He spun. He bucked. He reared. Dusty felt every jolt, every ripple of his strong muscle. She reacted, matching him move for move, trying to make herself an extension of him and not a foreign object.
God, this animal was strong.
Come on, boy, she thought, trying to reach him mentally, emotionally. We can do this. Yes, we can do this.
She found his rhythm. She had reached him. What an adrenaline rush! She concentrated, holding him with her thighs, grasping the rope in her gloved hand. Yes, it was good. They were together. Completely.
But Diablo whisked away from her in a millisecond with a tremendous jerk. Caught off guard, Dusty flew through the air and stopped, her head striking the hard dirt of the ring.
She lifted her head, her vision cloudy, and attempted to move. Diablo stood several feet away from her, snorting and shuffling his hoof on the ground. The spell had broken. He no longer recognized her. Something had forced them apart, and he was coming for her. God, he was coming for her, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t move.
Out of nowhere, a figure jumped into the ring. “Get her the hell out of here, Bay!”
Zach’s voice. Zach was circling the bull.
Blackness fell as she fainted.
Chapter Nine
Dusty awoke in Harper Bay’s arms.
“Shh,” he said. “Don’t try to talk. We’ve called 9-1-1, and one of the rodeo docs is on his way.”
9-1-1? That was silly. She was fine. She opened her mouth to voice this thought, but nothing came out.
“Can you understand me, Dusty?” Harper asked.
Again, no words would come. She tried to nod her head, but wasn’t sure if she was successful.
“I think she has a concussion.” Harper’s voice sounded distant, muffled.
“Let me take a look.” Another voice.
Then a blinding light in her eye. “Pupils are responding. That’s good. What was she doing on that bull, anyway?”
“Don’t know.”
Dusty tried to speak again, but failed.
“Well, she looks better than the other fella.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Gored pretty good in his thigh. He won’t be bronc busting for a while.”
Zach? Were they talking about Zach?
“But he’s okay, right?”