Page 74 of Austin
Austin felt goodas he eased himself on board Muddy Boy, a shiny dark brown bull with fawn-colored legs and points. A beautiful animal who wanted to do him some serious harm. Nothing new there. Muddy Boy stomped and humped up when the bull rope was tightened. Someone grabbed Austin’s vest from behind, spotting him and keeping him in place while he finished his wraps. The bull blew snot, then settled and Austin gave his nod.
In less than a second he was in trouble, thrown off balance by an unexpected sharp twist, just before the spins started, sucking him down into the well. He fought gravity, muscles straining, teeth clenched, then came the rear and twisting buck and it was all over. He hit the ground hard, raised his head and found himself instinctively dodging a hoof. He didn’t dodge fast enough and it clipped him, knocking his helmet off. He rolled into a ball as hooves thudded around him, then it got quiet and he chanced a look. Muddy Boy bucked his way to the gate, ignoring the heap of tangled bull rider he’d left in the middle of the arena.
Austin got to his feet and took his helmet from the bull fighter who’d picked it up before he half-walked, half-limped to the gate. Something was running into his eyes and he put his hand to his forehead, felt the blood.
Shit.
Every now and then the bull had to win.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. But this is two in a row.
He was pissed.
Instead of heading to the medical room to get the cut taken care of, he stopped to watch Kelly ride, blood flowing from between his fingers as he put pressure on the cut.
As promised, Kelly’s wife had shown up. She was even prettier in person than in the photos Kelly had shown him and she obviously loved her husband. They touched. A lot. Little touches, little strokes on the arm, the hands, the shoulders. Shared smiles. And a strained look on her face when Kelly was otherwise occupied.
She was making a decision. Austin was certain of it, and he could only hope that decision fell in favor of Kelly.
As Kelly mounted the chute where Left of Center was waiting for him, he looked like he could ride a cyclone. In a world where intense concentration was the norm, Kelly was a half-tick past everyone else.
Austin tilted his head back as the gate swung open, working to control the flow of blood, and also ready to catch anything that Kelly might want to know about later. They made it a habit to critique each other’s rides, and he didn’t want a little blood to keep him from doing that.
The first few seconds went well. Kelly was glued to the center of the bull, anticipating every move. He leaned back into a high twisting buck, his free hand staying well within the plane, then leaned forward as the bull reared, kicking all four feet in the air just before he threw his head back, smacking Kelly square in the forehead.
Kelly’s limp body tumbled off the bull on the wrong side, his hand hanging up in the rigging so that his body flopped beside Left of Center as the bull continued to buck. The bull fighters converged on the animal, one attempting to lure him into a straight line, while the other fought with the rigging. The mounted safety man approached on the offside and managed to catch the flank strap and release it. Left of Center’s bucking slowed and the bull fighter managed to lift Kelly to the point that he could ease the weight on his hand, undo the bull rope.
Both bull fighter and bull rider collapsed in the dirt. Only one of them struggled to his feet.
Austin sat back down. Kelly was out cold. At least he hoped he was out cold, and not dead.
His wife is here and she might have just watched her husband die.
The thought made him sick.
The medics and gate personnel crowded around him, making it impossible to see. Then they fell back and Kelly stirred as two medics began moving him onto a backboard. The crowd was quiet as the big gate opened to let the ambulance in and a few long minutes later, it drove out again.
Austin got out of his chair. He needed to find Kelly’s wife. Needed to see if she had a way to get to the hospital, because this was not a time for her to drive alone.
*
Kristen was inlying in bed, wide awake and wondering about Austin’s ride, which would be televised the following evening, when her phone rang. She scooped it up fast, so it wouldn’t wake her sister. Austin. The moment she heard his voice, she knew he hadn’t called because he missed her. Something was wrong. Something major.
“Are you all right?” The question came choking out even as she told herself that if he was talking, he was okay.
“I’m fine. It’s Kelly.”
Kristen closed her eyes, pressing her palm to her forehead. “What happened?” She kept her voice low, so as not to disturb Whitney in the next room.
“Well, he’s going to make it.”
Austin went on to describe the wreck, and how he’d taken Kelly’s wife to the hospital even though he wasn’t supposed to leave the venue. Even though there were people who did that, he wouldn’t leave her alone.
And Kelly’s condition—major concussion, internal injuries, punctured lung, broken arm, dislocated shoulder. There was a laundry list, really, and Austin rattled it off as if those injuries were as familiar to him as items on a fast food menu.
Kristen swallowed hard when he was done and tried to find words. Any words. “I didn’t know whether to call you. I…didn’t want you to find out via the internet.”
“Whywouldn’tyou call me?” Kristen asked.
