Page 159 of Burn the Wild

I touch Ford’s arm, noting the deep crease of worry on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Wyatt doesn’t normally ride bareback.” He shakes his head. “He’s looking for Fallon. Goddamn idiot.”

“His mind needs to be on that bronc,” Charlie snaps, eyes locked on Wyatt.

Baseball hat gripped in his hands, Ford half-rises in his seat as the horn sounds and the chute opens. Wyatt and the bronc explode into the arena.

Grip firm, Wyatt’s upper body bends in ways I had no idea a human body could bend. His back slams against the horse’s back, keeping a perfect rhythm with the animal. He makes it look easy. Effortless.

As the eight second buzzer sounds, Wyatt tries to release his hand. But he can’t. His riggin’ has slipped, dragging his body sideways at an almost horizontal, eerie angle. For a brief second, panic flashes on his face as he tries to wrench himself free. A pick-up man on the side of the chute reaches for him, but it’s useless. As the bucking horse comes in closer, we all watch in horror as Wyatt is slammed against the rail.

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

Free of the riggin’, Wyatt hits the ground.

But he doesn’t get back up.

“No.” The word falls from Ford’s mouth in one strangled syllable.

The beast of a horse continues to buck and run around the arena. Too close to Wyatt. Too deadly.

My heart races as Ford rockets to his feet. “Get my brother out of that fucking ring!” he screams, eyes wild.

The pick-up men scramble, but they’re a beat too slow. Rodeo clowns try to corral the horse, but it’s a monster—pissed off, frantic, unable to be caged. Vicious white hooves pound near Wyatt’s head.

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” Dakota chants.

We’re all on our feet.

Movement in front of me. Charlie.

In two seconds flat, he vaults the fence and jumps into the ring. He races over to Wyatt and covers his brother’s unconscious body with his own, shielding Wyatt from the bronco’s hooves.

Ruby barely blinks, squeezing Dakota’s hand.

“Stay here,” Ford says to me before he races down the aisle.

“Goddamn it!” Davis whips Duke into Dakota’s arms and takes off after Ford.

My panicked eyes watch as Ford enters the ring. He grabs the horse’s reins, swings himself up, and rides him into the chute.

Ruby bursts into tears as Charlie and another cowboy quickly lift Wyatt and carry him out of the arena.

The crowd begins to file out. Ruby, Dakota and I go in search of our cowboys.

It’s dusk, the sun beginning to creep low behind Meadow Mountain, in a deep amber glow.As we pass through the dusty parking lot, I look over at the entrance of the fairgrounds. A black SUV slowly cruises past the gate.

A shiver rolls over my spine, and I freeze.

Gavin?

But when I blink, the car’s gone. Disappeared into thin air.

“Y’all are idiots.” Davis glares and slams the door as the nurse exits.

“You’re just jealous you weren’t a hero.” Charlie sits on the end of Wyatt’s hospital bed, holding a foam coffee cup. They both wear shit-eating grins. After all the chaos at the fairground, we took Wyatt to the hospital to get checked out. He has a minor concussion and a sprained wrist. Now we wait for him to be discharged.

Wyatt wiggles his brows. “Hat stayed on at least.”

---