Unridden: A Studs in Spurs novel

by Cat Johnson

  Slade nodded. “Okay, Mustang, I got it! I heard you the first two times you told me.”

  Head down, Slade pulled his rope and wrapped it tightly around his glove. He pushed his hat lower onto his head with his free hand, clamped his legs against the bull’s sides and nodded. The gate swung open and away they went.

  Heels in, toes out, Slade braced for Ballbreaker’s first reversal. Bearing down, he stayed on through the bull’s powerful snaps and twists. As the eight seconds stretched out to feel more like eight minutes while Slade made one correction to his position after another, he finally heard the buzzer just as Ballbreaker snapped his butt so hard into the air, he flipped Slade up and over his horns.

  Caught up in his rope good and tight, Slade dangled like a rag doll by one hand. He was aware of the bullfighters moving in as he tried to free his hand from the rope. He knew he had to stay on his feet even while Ballbreaker continued to buck and spin, dragging Slade with him.

  He felt hands trying to free him from the rope as Ballbreaker hopped, throwing Slade into the air and off his feet. When he landed in the dirt on his ass, his hand still caught, Slade saw hooves and horns coming at him.

  He turned his head and for the first time in a long time, prayed.

  With everything a blur, it seemed to Slade that one moment his arm was being pulled out of its socket, then the next he was laying in the dirt flat on his back, staring up at the glare of the arena lights with no idea how he’d gotten in that position. Slade felt something warm trickling into his eye and then gauze was pressed against his head.

  The sports medicine team surrounded him, asking questions, but it seemed beyond Slade to answer them at the moment.

  “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

  Where doesn’t it hurt? Slade started to chuckle, then he realized it hurt too much to do that.

  When he didn’t answer, the doctor asked again, and this time Slade answered. “Everywhere.”

  At that vague answer, the doctor switched tactics and got more specific. “Can you move your feet?”

  God! Do they think I’m paralyzed? Horrified at that thought, Slade concentrated and moved first one leg, bending it at the knee, then the other. “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Good. Does your neck hurt?&rdquo

  Slade slowly shook his head no, which made his head feel like a screwdriver was being jammed behind his eyes, but at least his neck didn’t hurt…not too much, anyway.

  That small movement seemed to make them all happy. The doctor moved on to quizzing Slade with thought provoking questions now that the physical tests seemed done. Meanwhile, all Slade really wanted to do was close his eyes for just a little bit. The dirt was soft and cool and really didn’t make a bad bed in a pinch. If only they’d leave him alone for a bit so he could rest.

  “Can you tell me your name?” Slade heard the question from somewhere off in the distance.

  When he didn’t answer right away, his cheek was slapped lightly. Frowning, Slade opened his eyes again and answered, “Slade Bower.”

  “What city are we in?”

  “Kansas…no, Tulsa.” That was a hard question on a good day the way they moved around. Hoping that correct answer meant they’d finally stop with the questions, Slade was disappointed when the doctor continued.

  “What bull were you on tonight, Slade.”

  That one was easy. “Ballbreaker.”

  The doctor laughed lightly. “He was that, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Slade let out a short laugh, realizing it was a mistake immediately when it made everything hurt. “What was my score?”

  The doctor laughed again. “When they start worrying about their score, I know they’re all right. We’ll find that out for you in a second, Slade. Do you want to try sitting up or do you want the stretcher?”

  Stubborn to the core, Slade said, “No stretcher.” But that meant he needed to sit up, and as countless hands began to pull him up from the dirt he realized his riding arm, dangling painfully, was useless. “My arm...”

  “Yeah, it’s dislocated. We’ll get it fixed up in the back.”

  Great. That was always fun.

  Sitting up brought to light a new pain. Slade hissed in a painful breath of air. “I think my ribs are broke.”

  The doctor nodded. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. You got trampled on pretty good. You may need stitches on that head wound and my bet is you’ve got yourself a nice concussion too.”

  Slade let out a laugh followed by a groan. “Ow. I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got a few months off then, isn’t it?”

  The doctor grinned. “Because if this wasn’t the last ride of the season you’d be on a bull again next week, wouldn’t you?”

  Slade grinned back at him. “Hell yeah.”

  Shaking his head, the doctor wrapped one arm around Slade’s waist, supporting him as the crowd in the arena, which Slade realized had been eerily silent up until then, erupted in cheers.

  Mustang was there next to Slade as soon as they got behind the chutes, heading down the long, seemingly never-ending hallway to the room full of beds and half filled with bull riders nursing various degrees of injury.

  Mustang took one look around the room. “Looks like the docs have been busy tonight.”

  Helping Slade up onto an available bed, the doctor nodded, grinning. “I can always count on you boys to keep me busy. Good thing too. The missus has her eye on a new car. I’m going to give you some muscle relaxers, Slade, then we’ll get that shoulder popped back in.”

  As the doctor moved off, Mustang raised a brow at Slade. “Good ride.”

  Slade laughed, then held his ribs. “Yeah, until the end.”

  Mustang’s eyes cut to the television monitor set up in the corner. “Looks like you finished in second place.”

  “Second!” Slade pouted.

  Mustang nodded. “Yeah. Jorge did really well too. He held onto the number one spot, even with your ninety point five score in the short go.”

  Slade smiled. “Ninety point five! Told you Ballbreaker wasn’t the wrong choice.”

  Stepping back out of the way so the doctor could tend to Slade, Mustang said, “We’ll see if you still feel that way after the doc here snaps your shoulder back in the socket.”

  Slade went to shrug then realized he couldn’t. “Won’t be the first time.”

  Mustang grinned. “Nor the last, God willing.”

  “God willing,” Slade agreed, with a quick, silent word of thanks that he’d been blessed with walking away one more time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jenna pushed past the knees of the people in her row, tripping over someone’s feet in her struggle to get down to where they had just carried Slade barely a minute before. Yeah, he’d been on his feet when they took him out, but only because of the two men supporting him on either side as he clutched one arm while blood soaked through the cloth a third man held against Slade’s head.

  Tears blurring her eyes and her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the noise of the crowd, Jenna ran head on into Chase.

  He grabbed both of her arms. “Jenna. What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” Hadn’t Chase seen Slade getting dragged around underneath the bull? Hadn’t he seen him laying there motionless after the animal pounced on him? “I have to get to Slade.”

  “He’s in with the sports medicine team.” Chase didn’t release her arms, but held her even as she struggled to push past him to go find Slade. Then Chase’s eyes opened wide as he stared at her face. “Oh my God. You’re with Slade?”

  Not worrying about the details, Jenna managed to nod.

  She could see as all the pieces started to fall together in Chase’s brain. “That’s why you’re in the VIP seats. That’s why you said at the bar you weren’t really available.”

  Chase dropped his grip on her arms and ran one hand over his face.

  “Holy crap! I kissed you. Shit! I kissed Slade Bower’s girl.” Chase paced in a tight circle. “Jenna! Why didn�
��t you tell me?”

  “Because it’s more complicated than you can even imagine.” Jenna let out a frustrated breath. “Listen. Can you get me back there to him?”

  “No wonder he looked so pissed during the draft after I kissed you. I’m lucky he didn’t beat the crap out of me.”

  “Chase. Stop.” Jenna debated what to say and finally blurted out, “Slade and I aren’t serious so don’t worry about it. Okay?”

  Hmm, uttering that truth out loud hurt more than she’d anticipated.

  “Slade sure as hell looked serious when he spotted your lipstick on my face during the draft!”

  Jenna decided Chase was too far gone in his hero worship of Slade to think clearly. Giving up on trying to make him feel better while she was too upset to think herself, she turned away. Her intention was to follow the same hall she’d seen Slade disappear and try and find him.

  She was about to start searching for him alone when a man wearing some sort of ID badge around his neck and a cowboy hat on his head stepped in front of her.

  “Where do you think you’re going, little lady?”

  Maybe if she acted as if she belonged there, he’d let her pass. Dragging out her tough New Yorker attitude, Jenna made the announcement with as much authority as she could muster at the moment. “I’m going to see Slade Bower.”

  “Only family members are allowed back there. You family?”

  Jenna debated which lie to use. He’s my brother, crossed her mind, but she didn’t know if Slade even had a sister or if this guy would know her if he did.

  “It’s okay. She’s his girlfriend.” Chase stepped up behind her. When the man raised a brow doubtfully, Chase continued. “Didn’t you see her there in the VIP seats? I’ll take her back and make sure she gets where she’s going, if you want.”

  That promise got them a nod as the man moved out of their way.

  Relieved to finally be going somewhere, Jenna looked up at Chase as they made their way down a long hallway. “Thanks. I owe you.”

  Chase let out a laugh. “Tell Slade not to kill me for kissing you and I’ll call it even.”

  They entered a room full of what looked like beds or examination tables. Cowboys in various states of undress lounged on a number of them.

  She scanned all the faces quickly until she found Slade, pale and laid out on a table, unmoving with his eyes closed. The shirt stained with the blood from his head wound lay crumpled in a ball on the table with him.

  Why was no one tending to him? Jenna swallowed hard, afraid. What if he had internal injuries and no one was keeping an eye on him? What if he was dead and no one had noticed yet? That thought nearly sent her careening to the floor.

  She took a step closer, shaking so badly she could barely stand. Just as Jenna started to feel lightheaded and as if she might black out right there, she heard boots on the tile floor. She spun to look at the doorway as a welcome familiar face appeared.

  “Mustang!” Pushing past Chase, Jenna threw herself at Mustang. All the horror of watching Slade getting trampled, of holding her breath in the deathly silent arena as she waited along with the thousands of others to find out if he was still alive, the fear now at his being unconscious, possibly dead, the way he looked so horrible…it all finally came to a head and she found herself hysterical, sobbing in Mustang’s arms.

  Mustang pulled her out into the hallway and she didn’t protest. Once outside, he said, “Shh. It’s okay, darlin’.”

  Barely coherent, Jenna asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Slade? He’ll be fine.”

  Fine? He didn’t look fine. Jenna swallowed past the lump in her throat. “He looks…dead.”

  Mustang smiled at her reassuringly. “He’s not dead, darlin’. He’s sleeping. He was snoring before when I left. There’s nothing wrong with him that won’t heal.”

  Jenna let her head fall against Mustang’s chest and released a laugh of relief in the midst of her tears. “Thank God. I was so worried. When I saw him under that bull.”

  Jenna was about to launch into more specific questions about Slade’s injuries when Chase stepped forward. “Listen, Mustang. I have to apologize, man. I had no idea she was with Slade. Honestly. If I’d known Jenna was his girlfriend, I never would have gone anywhere near her. You know I respect Slade more than I can say. I look up to both of you guys.”

  Mustang raised a brow as he looked down at Jenna, before answering Chase. “Relax, kid. It’s fine. Really.”

  Chase looked like a little boy who’d just been forgiven for stealing cookies from the kitchen jar. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. You and I are good. Don’t worry.”

  Hesitating, Chase glanced back at the doorway they’d just left and winced. “What about Slade? He was pretty pissed at me during the draft.”

  “I’ll tell him what you said. He’ll be fine.”

  Letting out a big breath, Chase appeared relieved. “Okay. Thanks, man. Um, I’m gonna go out now. They need to interview me.”

  “Yeah. Congratulations on Rookie of the Year, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Red-faced and still looking contrite, Chase glanced one last time at Jenna and then exited down the hall, which left Mustang to question Jenna.

  “Soooo, you’re Slade’s girlfriend now, huh?” Mustang ran one hand up and down her back, comforting her even as he looked amused.

  Still shaky, Jenna shook her head at Mustang. “I never said that. Chase assumed it. I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth, now could I?”

  “No. Guess not. It’s okay. I don’t get my feelings hurt that easily. I’m sure if it was me there laid up in that bed instead of Slade, you’d be just as upset.” Mustang raised a brow expectantly, waiting for her answer.

  Jenna was in no mood for teasing. All she wanted to do was go back in and see Slade open his eyes and prove he wasn’t dead. “Of course I’d be just as upset if that was you!”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure.”

  Losing patience, she spat out, “It’s true!”

  “I know, darlin’. I’m just teasing you.” Mustang grinned as he ran his hands up her back, finally settling them on each side of her face as he lowered his head and kissed her softly.

  Jenna pulled back and frowned at him. “Mustang. Slade could have died. I’m not in the mood for this now.”

  “I told you, Slade is going to be fine. He may be out of commission right now for what I have in mind for you and me, but he’s good.” He pushed closer to her, nibbling briefly on one of her earlobes. “Mmm. I was worried you weren’t coming tonight you were so late. I’m glad you’re here now though.”

  Mustang’s mouth covered hers again, before she pushed him away. “I can’t do this.”

  She glanced back at the doorway to the room where Slade lay unconscious.

  With his lips tracing a path down her throat as his hands headed down to her rear, Mustang said, “I know you’re worried, but there’s no need. He’s only sleeping. Slade sleeps like the dead normally, and between being exhausted from last night with you and groggy from the muscle relaxers the doc gave him, he’s totally knocked out. He’ll be up and around in a few hours. He can join us then for round two.”

  Jenna reached down and stilled Mustang’s one hand as it headed for the crotch of her jeans. “Really. Mustang. Not now. It would feel like…I don’t know…like we’re cheating on Slade.”

  Mustang pulled back and considered Jenna carefully. “For real? That’s how you feel?”

  Jenna shrugged. “Yeah.”

  Looking surprised, Mustang let out a soft, “Huh. Interesting.”

  Jenna frowned. “Why? Don’t you feel the same way?”

  Mustang laughed and glanced down at the large bulge in his jeans. “Not exactly, no.”

  She let out a laugh that she didn’t know she had in her. “I see that.”

  One of the riders came down the hall and Jenna took a step back from Mustang. If she was supposed to be Slade’s girlfriend, she shouldn’t be pressed up
against Mustang.

  She looked up to find Mustang watching her closely again. “Want me to drive you back to the hotel?”

  No. She wanted to see to Slade.

  Jenna glanced back at the doorway but before she could say anything, Mustang continued. “They’re going to take him to the hospital in a few minutes.”

  “The hospital?” she squeaked. “You said he was fine!”

  “For some x-rays,” Mustang said, interrupting her next breakdown. “You don’t want to hang around and wait for that. God only knows how long it will take. He’ll be in much better shape tomorrow. You can see him then.”

  “I leave tomorrow.” The reality of what that meant struck her hard. She’d leave tomorrow and possibly—probably—never see either Mustang or Slade again.

  “What time is your flight?”

  “I’m taking a cab to the airport at ten.”

  “No cab. We’ll drive you.”

  Somehow that made Jenna feel better. Why, she didn’t know, since she was still leaving and mostly likely never seeing them again. At least they’d be driving her to the airport and she’d get to see for herself that Slade was fine...or at least not dead.

  “Will Slade be okay to sit in the car for the drive?”

  “Slade?” Mustang laughed. “Darlin’, if this wasn’t the final night, he’d be on the back of a bull again tomorrow. Hell, I would too if it were me. We bull riders are tough.”

  As another bull rider limped past, vividly recapping his ride to another cowboy and laughing, even while an icepack was strapped with gauze to his shoulder, Jenna began to fully appreciate just how tough.

  “So, will you let me drive you home now?”

  “Will you take my cell phone number and call me if anything changes with Slade?”

  Mustang grinned. “Hell yeah. I’ll gladly take your cell phone number, darlin’.” As Jenna rolled her eyes, he added, “For Slade. I promise.”

  “Don’t forget, you can call the hotel and get transferred to my room if for some reason my cell doesn’t have signal. Right? Just in case?”