Rough Stock (Lost Creek Rodeo #3) - Heather B. Moore Page 0,68

took every ounce of his strength to head down those arena stairs like nothing earth-shattering had just happened. Silvia was talking to him. She was reconsidering. He could feel it to the depths of his bones.

Nothing would stop him from winning tonight. Nothing.

Silvia should be used to watching Westin bull ride by now, but something wasn’t right. She couldn’t explain how she knew. He was hanging on to the fiercely bucking bull named Little Sprite—which must be a joke of a name. But Westin’s expression was gritted . . . in pain?

The eight-second buzzer rang, and the crowd went wild. Instead of scrambling away from the bull, though, Westin was slow to move. And that’s when it happened.

In a flurry of hooves that seemed to move in slow motion, the bull stepped on Westin’s chest, more than once.

Silvia gasped.

The crowd went dead silent. The music died off.

Cowboys jumped into the arena, some of them herding the bull away, and others kneeling at Westin’s side.

“No, no, no,” Silvia whispered.

Glory gripped her arm, muttering a prayer.

When the stretcher came out, Silvia began to cry. It wasn’t something she could control or hold back, it was like her body had a mind of its own. Glory’s arms went around her, and they watched in horror as Westin was carted out of the arena. He lifted a hand and waved, which brought cheers from the crowd.

“Does that mean he’s okay?” Silvia asked no one in particular. “Please be okay, please.”

The MC came on, assuring that Westin Farr was in good hands, and they’d update the crowd when news came back. Meanwhile, another bull rider prepared to go out next, but Silvia felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t stay here and watch anymore.

Westin had to be in pain, and what if . . . what if something was crushed or he was paralyzed?

“I need to get out of here,” she told Glory.

“Of course, hon,” she soothed. “You don’t look so good.”

“I can’t breathe very well.”

They didn’t make it out of the arena before Silvia had to sit down. Glory asked some people to move over in the front row, then told Silvia to put her head down.

“Focus on breathing, hon,” Glory said, rubbing Silvia’s back. “Is this one of those panic attacks you told us about?”

Silvia couldn’t even answer; she was close to throwing up. It was as if she was frozen in place, her muscles locked.

Dimly, she heard someone else say, “Is she okay? Should we get the medics?”

“She’ll be fine,” came Glory’s steady voice. “Just needs to sit for a bit.”

How could Glory be so calm? How could they just sit here when Westin was possibly dying?

The crowd was cheering for one of the events, but Silvia had no idea which one, because she could only hear her own rapid thoughts.

Then the announcer’s voice came on, mentioning Westin Farr.

She managed to lift her head, sure her tears had ruined every bit of makeup she’d applied.

“We got ourselves an update from the doc,” the MC said. “Westin Farr is gonna be just fine, folks. A couple of broken ribs, that’s all. Won’t be surprised if we see him back real soon.”

The crowd clapped at the news, and Silvia only wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere, but at least she was breathing easier now.

“When you feel up to it, we’ll head to my car,” Glory said. She’d brought her car to the women’s recovery ranch because she only lived a couple of hours away from Lost Creek. “Want some of my water?”

Silvia gratefully accepted it. After drinking, she said, “Let’s go. I think I’m okay now.” She wasn’t, but she could walk. She had to.

Hanging onto Glory, Silvia made it out of the arena without losing it again. The air was cooler in the parking lot, the noise less, and the lights not so bright. It all helped.

“Here we are,” Glory said as she opened the passenger door to her car and ushered Silvia in. “You can just relax now on the drive home. Take a nap if you want to.”

“I need to see him,” Silvia said.

Glory paused before shutting the door. “Westin?”

“Yeah. Can you find out where they took him? I need to make sure he’s all right. See it for myself.”

Glory bit her lip, then said, “Sure thing, hon. I’ll go see what I can find out.”

Silvia leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes as she waited for Glory to return. She’d never felt such sickening