Page 52 of Rough Stock
Amber grabbed Shyanna and hugged her, and as soon as she turned loose, SammyJo took her place, arms wrapped around the blond. “We had to talk CoachPotter into excusing us for the weekend, and we had to drive all day to get here, but we’re here!” Amber told them. She reached for Jensen’s hand to shake, but when he extended it, she said, “Oh, fuck that shit!” and hugged him too. Before he could get her to turn loose, SammyJo hadattacked him from the other side, and he was pretty sure he heard Shyanna laughing.
“What’s starting now?” SammyJo asked.
“Steer wrestling. I’ve got to go. Wish me luck, babe,” he said to Shyanna before he leaned out and gave her a kiss.
“Good luck, baby,” she called after him and he chuckled as he walked away.
His hazer for the ride was ChuckCochran, and he’d always respected Chuck. They went to their respective sides of the chute and he glanced at the seasoned hazer, who gave him a thumbs-up and a smile. Jensen was sure Chuck had heard all the rumors about him and Shyanna, and the cowboy appeared to not give a shit, which was a good thing.
For reasons he didn’t understand, Cobra was unusually restless, pulling against the reins and dancing in ways he hadn’t danced in years. It was hard to control him, and Jensen was doing his best. Chuck was being patient beyond belief and when Jensen made eye contact with him, the older, more experienced cowboy pressed a palm down in a “chill out” motion.
As soon as he had Cobra backed in just right and well in hand, he nodded. Sounds of the metal gate popping open filled Jensen’s ears, and the big horse bolted. Chuck pressed the steer in Jensen’s direction and he reined Cobra straight into the steer’s path.
Faster than he could process, there was a stumble, and then a pitching sideways. The crowd screamed, and Jensen felt his right shoulder and leg grinding into the arena’s dirt surface.
He could sense a presence near him and heard Chuck’s voice say, “Strader? Strader, can you hear me?” The crowd had grown silent, too silent, and Jensen tried to get his wits about him.
He could hear another voice too, a female voice, and someone cradled his face in their hands. It said, “Help him! Get him out from under there!” and there were footsteps all aroundhim. Something was wrong with his right leg, and then he was free. There was the sensation of being dragged before someone helped him sit up.
When he took a look, his heart almost stopped. Cobra lay there in the dirt on his side, not moving. “Wha-a-a… what the hell happened?” he mumbled as best he could. Air brushed across the outer side of his thigh and he looked down to see his jeans shredded, and another look told him his right arm was skinned and bloody.
A face filled his vision?a face he loved. “Jensen? Baby? How do you feel? Are your ears ringing? Is there a roaring in your head? Talk to me, babe.”
He was confused, so confused. “Shy?”
“Yeah, babe. Let’s get you seen by the paramedics.” Two men in uniforms came into his line of vision, hovering over him, but he didn’t want them to touch him. He had to get to Cobra.
“My horse,” he said, then yelled, “my horse! What’s wrong with him! Cobra?”
Shyanna’s voice stopped him. “Jensen? Jensen!” His eyes snapped up to find her face, and there were tears on it. “Jensen, he’s gone. Cobra’s gone.”
“No, he’s not,” he answered, thinking maybe she was somehow blind. “He’s right there.”
She took his face in her hands again and stared into his eyes. “Jensen, he’s dead.”
“No!” he barked back, shaking his head. “We’re doing the steer wrestling. I’ve got to get up.”
“Mr.Strader? Let’s check you out, okay?” a male voice said, and Jensen felt himself sinking, sinking, sinking…
When he woke, he was in an ambulance, and he was more than confused. How had he wound up there? By the time he got to the hospital, he knew. The image of Cobra lying there in the dirt was burned into his mind. He didn’t care how badly hewas injured?he only wanted to get back to Cobra. The old dun couldn’t be dead.
They did the minimum for him at the hospital, seeing as how he had no insurance. All the scans showed nothing was broken so they cleaned all his wounds and they gave him some pain pills to help with the aches and pains, plus antibiotics to help with all the scrapes and cuts. Shyanna was there the whole time, a silent, fuming sentinel parked in a chair across the room. She looked like she’d eat anyone who walked through the door without an invitation, and when they finally cut him loose, she helped him get dressed and out the door. Once he was in the truck, she slipped wordlessly under the wheel and powered off toward the arena.
It took him about four miles to ask, but he had to. “Shy?”
“Yeah, baby?” she answered, and he could tell she was steeling herself for whatever he was going to ask.
“What exactly happened?”
Gradually slowing the truck, Shyanna pulled it into a parking lot and parked, then turned toward him. “What do you remember?”
“I remember the sensation of sliding across the dirt. And I remember pressure on my leg,” he said, patting his right thigh. It made him wince. “And I remember Chuck’s voice, and yours, and seeing Cobra in the dirt. Shy,” he repeated, “what happened?”
He watched as she swallowed hard, took a deep breath, let it out, and took his hand. “The calf broke from the chute and Cobra leaped right out after him. And just as you got up even with the steer, Cobra stumbled, and then he went down on his front knees and slid and fell over. He took you with him. And by the time he fell, he was already dead, Jensen. They think he had a heart attack.”
Even though his heart was breaking, something was stirring in Jensen’s mind, remembering, thinking, analyzing. “Why?”
Her eyebrows fell. “Why what?”
