He saw Merry Anna nod off. She awoke with a start, then flipped through her phone.
A moment later, she sat straight up in her seat. “Wow, your ride is all over social media. It looks even worse on replay.”
“People love to see us wreck. It’s like the pileups in a car race, or bloody fights in hockey.”
“When I was watching, it was like slow motion,” she said. “It was the oddest thing, like suddenly everything was clicking off in frames.” She replayed the video. “Crazy how fast it all happened in real life.”
He pulled off to the side of the road.
Merry Anna snapped to attention. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He watched her let out a breath. “I just want to see that video. Can’t do that and drive.”
“Oh.” She angled the phone so he could see the screen. The still showed his head just coming up from Rocket Fuel’s horn. The unnatural angle of his body made him wince. He pressed play on the video. It started when the chute opened and ended with him on the ground in a heap.
“Terrifying,” she whispered. “I’m so thankful you’re okay.”
“Over eight thousand likes already.” As much as he’d hoped for that kind of lift in his brand when he was trying to buy in with that livestock contractor, this wasn’t the way he’d meant to do it.
“That’s just that one thread,” she said. “I saw at least three other posts on my feed, and I don’t even follow bull riding or cowboy stuff. I can imagine how many are popping up from the real fans.”
“You’re not my real fan?” He pouted. “You’re only hanging around to get my gold buckles. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Sure. Who wouldn’t want to wear a gold salad plate around their waist?”
He pulled back, pretending to be totally offended, then pointed to his belt. “I’ll have you know I work very hard for these salad plates.”
She swatted him. “Stop. You know what I mean. I’ve seen the rows of them in your house. Doesn’t that ever get old?”
“No, it really doesn’t.” Nostalgia rolled through his veins. Could he leave the sport and not become bitter about it?I hope so. I need to find a way.He tilted Merry Anna’s phone away from him.
“That is hard to watch.”
“I know. You could’ve been—”
“Not because of that. That bull was barely working at the beginning. I was spurring him to get a decent ride. If only I hadn’t taken my attention off him that one millisecond.” Hepointed to the phone. “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m blessed I made the buzzer.” He pulled back onto the road.
Merry Anna sat quietly.
“Hey, did anyone post my score? I never did get my score.”
She scrolled through the posts, then went over to the rodeo website. “86.”
“Hmm.”
She tucked her phone back into her purse. “That was the top score for the night, though.”
“That was a gimme.” He shook his head, unimpressed. “That wasn’t a winning ride.”
She let out a huff. “Can you just be thankful?”
He pressed his lips together. “Yes. I’m very thankful. Mostly that you two are okay and we are almost home. Sorry, mood changes are part of the concussion.”
“How about I stay on the couch with Zan? That way if you need anything, I’ll be right there. The doctor said you might have some blurred vision, nausea—”
“I’ve had more concussions than that doctor has probably ever diagnosed. Besides, I didn’t mean to have you out all night. I know you have to work today.”
“I sent Krissy a note from the hospital. I’ve got the day off.”
