Finding Their Way Back CAPA-nominated anthology, is the stories of the three rodeo-riding Wulfsen siblings. My story, After the Rodeo features sister Freya, or Free, and bull rider/rancher Zane Malone.
After the Rodeo
By Cindy Spencer Pape
Available digitally or in print as part of
The anthology Finding Their Way Back
From The Wild Rose Press
Free Wulfsen learned early on to ride fast, and that rodeo relationships never last. But after one wild weekend in
Excerpt:
Zane’s heart thumped as Free rode into the ring. He’d known her for years, yet he was still stunned by her strong, blonde beauty every time he saw her. There she was, big as life, her pale blonde hair flying behind her, astride a sleek palomino quarter horse he knew she’d trained herself. Rider and mount moved so perfectly in tandem that it was almost as if they were two halves of one being. He couldn’t help remembering what it had felt like to have all that intensity and strength wrapped around him. His one weekend with Free had only made him hungrier for more.
The horse rounded the first and second barrel of the cloverleaf pattern with a deceptive ease. No way getting a thousand pound animal around an oil drum at high speed was an easy task. Her time looked good—she was sure to qualify for the finals. That meant she’d be here ’til Sunday. Zane’s body reacted to that thought, making his jeans too tight.
“There she goes around the third barrel. Look at them move folks,” the announcer called. “Pure poetry in motion.”
And then Zane’s heart stopped in his chest.
Almost as if it were slow motion, he watched Mistrunner lose his footing and go down. Free was flung from the saddle, her foot caught in the stirrup. Zane was already bolting over the fence when he heard the crack of her skull striking—something. A rodeo clown grabbed the struggling horse as it righted itself, making sure the fallen rider was clear of the saddle while Zane knelt in the dust by Freya’s side. An ugly bruise was already forming at her temple, leaking a small trickle of blood onto her cheek. Her chest moved steadily, though, thank God. Zane let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
Two other men pushed their way to her side only moments behind Zane. Her brothers were here, he registered absently. She’d like that. The paramedic nudged Grey and Dusty Wulfsen apart, holding a stethoscope to Free’s chest. In the background he heard the announcer reassuring the audience that the rider was going to be all right. A couple of clowns started juggling to distract some of the viewers from the paramedics in action.
“Pulse and respiration are good,” the lead medic told his partner. He moved to check her pupils just as Free’s lashes fluttered open. She looked at Zane, blinked and shut her eyes again.
“Zane.” It was little more than a whisper.
“I’m here, darlin’. You’re gonna be just fine.” He hoped she couldn’t hear the quaver in his voice.
“Miss Wulfsen, can you tell us how you’re feeling?” The medic asked. He checked her eyes when she opened them again. “One’s dilated, not responsive.” Concussion, Zane concluded. No big surprise.
“She conked heads with Mistrunner,” one of her brothers noted. “At least it was his skull, not a hoof.” Yeah, that was good. Hooves could smash skulls like pumpkins.
“Anything else hurt, ma’am?” They had a backboard ready and the two medics moved to lift her onto it.”
“Ankle,” she murmured. “Left. Broken, I think. Hurts like a bitch.” She gazed up at Zane again. “Misty?”
“He’s fine,” Zane assured her. “Walked off without a limp.”
“Good.” Free gave a little flutter of a smile and dropped back into unconsciousness.
“Lift.” The medics had her on the backboard, moved to a gurney. “Okay, you two are her brothers, right? One of you want to ride with us to the trauma center?”
While Grey and Dusty looked at each other, Zane shook his head. “Nope. They can drive. I’m riding with you. I’m the lady’s husband.”
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