Collision by Cassandra Carr Page A

riders that the bull Brady had
chosen in the draft was described as “rank”. In short, an ornery type.
    It meant Brady’s score would be higher if he stayed on, but
that would be harder to do because this bull tended to buck and twirl harder
and faster than other bulls. She’d been right when she’d told Brady it was very
similar to figure skating. You did the hard jumps because they had the greatest
potential to get you a high score, but they also had the greatest potential for
failure.
    Conner was standing on the fence rail, leaning over and
helping Brady prepare. Suddenly, the bull jumped in the chute and nearly bucked
Brady off right then and there. He took hold of the sides and waited until the
bull settled and then resumed his preparations, winding his bull rope around
his hand until he was satisfied. The bull snorted, which tossed snot in all
directions, and Leah made a face but couldn’t look away. Brady continued to be
jostled around and Leah had no idea how his legs weren’t being crushed on the
sides of the chute. She bit her lip. Now she knew how people felt when they
watched loved ones skate. She doubted anyone felt this way when she skated,
though. Sighing, she returned her attention to Brady in time to see him nod and
the gate swing open.
    The bull immediately spun hard to the right and it looked as
if Brady wasn’t going to be able to compensate, but he managed to right himself
and stayed on. His free hand wasn’t as controlled as last night, and as the
bull bucked and twisted back to the left Brady’s body jerked violently and Leah
could swear his helmeted head slammed into the bull’s hindquarters. She winced,
but still he held on.
    Then all hell broke loose. Brady was bucked, but landed too
close to the bull. The bullfighters couldn’t distract the beast in time and it
knocked into Brady as he tried to scramble away, tossing him into the air as if
he weighed nothing. Leah gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. Landing
on his side, Brady rolled away and was able to climb up onto the fence while
the bullfighters took care of the animal. He was panting and Leah could see he
was favoring one leg, letting it hang off the rail.
    She knew he hadn’t made it to the eight seconds—she hadn’t
heard the buzzer sound. He climbed over the fence and landed on the other side,
still only on one leg. Conner was right there, pointing to his leg, and Brady
was shaking his head. Leah didn’t know what to do. Should she go to him? Would
he want her to? He should see the doctor. She knew that much. As the
bullfighter handed him his bull rope and another rider gave him his gear bag,
he and Conner began to walk back to the riders’ area, which was in the opposite
direction from the medical room. Brady had a noticeable limp.
    Before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet and
following the two of them. She asked one of the riders for assistance jumping
down from the stands so she didn’t have to waste time making her way back up
the stairs and around the back, then began to walk as fast as her injured ankle
would allow. She hit a patch of softer dirt and her ankle turned, sending a
painful jolt straight up her leg. Silently berating herself for her own
stupidity at chasing him like this, she’d worked up quite a head of steam by
the time she caught up with the two men. Spinning in front of them, she put her
hands on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    He raised his gaze to hers and she saw a combination of
anger, pain and disappointment. Being bucked off in the finals meant he
wouldn’t finish in the money for this event, so he was undoubtedly upset about
that, but he needed to have that leg looked at.
    “I’m going to the locker room. What are you doing?”
    She shook her head. Men.
    “You should be getting that leg looked at.”
    “It’s fine.”
    She set her jaw. “Bullshit.”
    Both Brady’s and Conner’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
    “You heard me. Bull.