Neal struggled to free his hand as the bull continued to buck and thrash, tossing him like a rag doll. Kent Daley darted in and began trying to loosen the bull rope. Kent’s partner dodged back and forth in front of the bull, taunting the animal to keep him from turning back on Kent as he worked. At last, Neal’s rigging slipped loose.
He fell into the dirt beneath Devil’s hooves. He tried to roll aside. A crushing blow to his ribs forced the air from his lungs as one of Dust Devil’s hooves drove up under the edge of his protective vest. Neal curled into a ball of agony. He couldn’t breathe.
Kent dropped down beside him. “Are you hurt?”
“I can make it,” Neal gasped. He pulled his helmet off to get more air. It didn’t help.
Devil ran the second clown into the safety of the padded barrel. With a furious blow of his head, the bull sent the barrel flying. Then he turned back to the men crouched on the arena floor.
“Get me out of here,” Neal managed through clenched teeth. Dagger-sharp pain lanced through his side. He tasted blood in his mouth. Grabbing his helmet lying in the dirt beside him, he suppressed a groan as Kent shouldered him to his feet and half dragged, half carried him toward the fence. Neal couldn’t make his legs work right.
Safety loomed only a few steps away when Dust Devil bore down on them again. After letting go of Neal, Kent turned to lure the bull away. His brightly colored, baggy clothing made him a more inviting target. Neal staggered two more steps. With one hand on the fence, he glanced back to see Kent get hooked and tossed high into the air. He landed facedown in the dirt and lay still. Dust Devil whirled back for the fallen clown.
Other men and riders were racing toward them, but no one was as close as Neal was. He turned away from the fence and limped toward the crumpled figure on the arena floor. Neal drew the bull’s attention by yelling and waving his arm. The massive animal hesitated for an instant, and then charged the fallen man.
Neal threw his helmet. It hit the bull square in the face. Enraged, Dust Devil changed direction and charged him.
Neal took a step backward, turned and tried for the fence. He stumbled and fell to his hands and knees. As he glanced over his shoulder, he had a split second to wonder if he was going to die, and if Robyn would care. Then the world exploded in a brilliant, bloodred flash of pain, followed mercifully by darkness.
* * *
ROBYN MORGAN CROSSED the nearly empty hospital parking lot and inserted her key in her car door. She paused and raised her head to listen. The distant sound of a siren broke the quiet of the balmy June night. She recognized the distinctive wail of the county ambulance.
Drat! If she’d only been a minute faster getting into her car, she wouldn’t have heard it. Or, she admitted with a wry smile, if she hadn’t spent the past twenty minutes pouring over the application form for a nurse-practitioner scholarship her supervisor had given her. Twenty minutes of pure wishful thinking.
She couldn’t get over the shock of it. The accompanying letter stated that she had been recommended for a full private scholarship at the University of Colorado. The scholarships would be awarded to four candidates chosen from the names put forth by physicians practicing family medicine in Kansas, Colorado and Nebraska. The deadline for returning the application was September 1.
She had no idea who’d submitted her name, but it was flattering to know her expertise had been noted, especially since the school was one of the best in the country. But, like the carrot on a string in front of a donkey, the promise of a chance at professional advancement and a better salary dangled just out of her reach.
She couldn’t go back to school now, not with the trouble she and her mother were having with the ranch. It was tough making ends meet, and the gap widened every month. Her mom couldn’t do it alone. Robyn knew there would be expenses in going to school out of state that even a full scholarship wouldn’t cover.
Yet it was an opportunity she might never have again. There had to be some way she could make it work. She racked her tired brain for a solution but came up blank. No, she was only kidding herself. The offer was tempting in the extreme, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.
Meanwhile, was she going to stay late and help with whatever the ambulance was bringing, or was she going home? She battled with her conscience as she stood in the parking lot. Her shift was over. She’d given report to the night nurse. She could go home. She should go home.