Chapter Thirty-Four
Jovie
Seth and I are walking along the gravel path after lunch when the peaceful afternoon launches into chaos.
We’re halfway between the dining hall and the clinic, discussing one of the students recovering from a shoulder strain, when a group of kids comes sprinting down the path toward us.
Their faces are pale. One of the boys nearly trips over his own feet.
“Whoa. Slow down,” Dr. Seth calls. “What’s the hurry?”
“The bullpen. One of the bulls busted through a panel.” The kid points wildly toward the pastures. “He’s loose.”
Seth mutters a curse.
“Everyone, to the dining hall,” he orders. “Now. Stay there until someone tells you otherwise.”
The students don’t argue. They take off running.
Royce comes barreling around the corner of the barn, and his eyes lock on me.
“Jovie,” he says breathlessly, “you ever drive one of your dad’s lumber trailers?”
I blink. “Yeah.”
“Good.” Without hesitation, he tosses a set of keys, and I catch them. “There’s a stock trailer hooked to a black ranch truck beside the barn. Go get it.”
“What’s happening?”
“Me and Axle are going after a maverick bull.”
As if summoned by his name, Axle appears on horseback at a full gallop, flying behind him.
“We’ve got to keep him off the fence line,” Royce says. “And out of the trees.”
The trees.
Crap.
If that bull reaches the forest, finding him again will be a nightmare.
“Meet us in the north pasture.”
I’m already moving toward the academy’s barn. “Got it.”
I race around the side and spot the truck parked beneath a steel-covered garage attached to the building. The stock trailer sits hooked behind it.
I yank open the driver’s door and climb inside.
The engine roars to life, and for one brief second, I’m sixteen years old again, hauling lumber trailers for Daddy. Then instinct takes over. I throw it in gear and pull out.
The truck bounces over the uneven ground as I head for the pasture gate. I can see Axle and Royce in the distance. Tiny moving figures racing across the grass.
And they’re moving fast.
I reach the gate, throw the truck in park, and jump out. I swing the gate open, climb back in, pull through, then jump out again to close it behind me.
By the time I get moving again, my heart is hammering against my ribs.
The truck rattles across the pasture.
Ahead of me, I finally spot the bull. A big black brute. Head low and running hard toward freedom—straight for the tree line.
“Oh no.”
I cut the truck hard to the right, the trailer shaking violently as I try to angle ahead of him, to become an obstacle between him and the forest.
The bull keeps charging. Fast. Way faster than something that big should move.
Axle and Royce appear from the opposite side. Pushing him left.
The bull swings his head and changes direction.
For a moment, the three of us form a giant triangle around him. The truck on one side. The horses on the other. Keeping him trapped in the open pasture.
The bull snorts and throws his head.
Axle points directly at me. “Stay in the truck!”
I can barely hear him over the distance.
“Move to the middle!”
I throw the truck into park and slide across the bench seat.
The last thing I need is an angry bull deciding to test the driver’s door.
Bryce arrives out of nowhere a few seconds later.
His horse skids to a stop between the bull and the truck, creating a barrier between me and the agitated beast.
The bull swings toward him, and Bryce calmly turns him away.
The three cowboys start working together. Years of experience in handling bulls show in every move. Every turn. Every adjustment.
The bull starts backing toward the trailer slowly. Reluctantly.
Royce reaches for a rope hanging from his saddle. The loop spins and lands perfectly over the bull’s horns.
“Got him!”
Bryce follows. His rope flies and catches the hind legs.
The two ropes stretch tight. The bull bellows. Really angry now. The muscles in his shoulders bunch as he fights against the ropes.
But Bryce and Royce keep him stretched out. Off-balance and uncomfortable.
Exactly where they want him.
Axle dismounts and starts jogging toward the trailer.
My pulse immediately spikes.
He drops the ramp and swings the gate open. Then moves directly behind the bull. Close enough to touch him.
My palms start sweating.
“Axle,” I mutter.
The bull jerks, snorts, and throws dirt, doing everything he can to show his displeasure.
Axle talks to him the entire time. His voice calm and steady. Almost soothing. “Easy now.”
The bull backs up toward the trailer. One step, then another. Until his back legs are on the ramp.
For a second, I think they’ve got him. Then everything goes wrong.
The bull explodes. He kicks backward with tremendous force and leaps sideways.
Axle anticipates the move and pivots, but the bull’s hind legs catch the side of the trailer, and the gate jolts forward.
Slamming directly into the back of Axle’s head.
“Motherfucker!”
I flinch. “Oh my God.”
Royce’s voice rings out. “You okay, Ax?”
Axle grabs the back of his head and straightens. “Yeah.”
I stare at him.
No way that didn’t hurt.
“Back him up again,” Axle shouts, like he wasn’t just hit by a swinging steel gate.
The men reposition themselves. The bull keeps fighting. The ropes stretch tight once more. The animal becomes more frustrated. Eventually, the pressure does exactly what they want. The bull begins to back up. One hesitant step at a time. Up the ramp. Into the trailer.
Finally.
The moment all four hooves clear the opening, Axle slams the gate shut, the metal clang echoing across the pasture.
Everyone exhales, including me.
Axle looks at Royce. “I’ll drive him in. You got my horse?”
Royce nods and retrieves Axle’s horse’s reins. Bryce secures their ropes, and Axle walks toward the truck.
I’m still staring at the back of his head, trying to assess whether he’s bleeding.
He opens the driver’s door and climbs inside.
“Are you okay?”
He glances over. “What?”
“Don’t what me. That hit looked bad.”
A grin appears on his face. “I was hoping you didn’t see that.”
“Well, I did.”
He turns the key in the ignition, and the truck roars to life.
“It was just a tap,” he says as he slams the truck in gear.
I stare at him. “A tap?”
“Yep.”
I shake my head. “You always say it was just a tap.”
The truck starts moving.
We follow Bryce and Royce back toward the academy. A few minutes later, they open the pasture gate for us.
Then we head toward the Wildhaven Storm Ranch bullpens.
Cabe spots us coming and meets us at the fence.
Axle explains everything. “The panel’s destroyed. We need a place to isolate him until we reinforce it.”
Cabe nods. “You got it.”
The two of them unload the bull.
Thankfully, the animal cooperates this time, and within minutes, he’s secured safely in his own pen.
The crisis is officially over.
I climb out of the truck and watch them finish securing the gates.
Once everything is locked down, Axle tosses the keys to Cabe.
“We’ll leave the trailer here and walk back.”
Cabe catches them. “I’ll move it up closer to the house.”
Then Axle turns toward the academy. “Come on, Doc.”
We start walking.
The afternoon sun hangs low overhead.
Everything feels normal again except for the giant knot of concern currently lodged in my chest.
I keep staring at the back of his head. “Let me look at it.”
“I’m fine.”
“You got hit by a steel gate.”
“And I’m fine. No double vision. No blurry vision. No dizziness or ringing in my ears.”
I stop walking. “Axle.”
He comes to a halt and inhales deeply as he lifts his face to the sky, clearly losing his patience with me. Finally, he turns. “What?”
“I don’t know what concerns me more. The fact that you refuse to pause for thirty seconds and let me check the back of your head, or the fact that you can recite all the major concussion symptoms off the top of your head.”
He chuckles. “Occupational hazard.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
His eyes sparkle. “Maybe I’ve gotten hit in the head a few times.”
“Really? I’d have never guessed.”
That earns a full laugh.
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
He’s impossible.
His gaze slides over me, and he begins to walk slowly toward me. No, stalk toward me is more accurate.
“You know something? You’re sexy when you get all doctor bossy.”
Heat rushes into my cheeks. “Oh my God.”
I point toward the clinic. “Come with me so Dr. Seth can check you out.”
He sighs dramatically. “Fine.”
I cross my arms. “Thank you.”
His smile turns wicked as he swings his arm for me to go first. “You’d better go before I drag you into the barn, Doc.”
My heartbeat speeds up. The image that forms in my mind is completely unhelpful right now.
He’s trying to distract me, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. I confidently walk up to him and run my hand down his chest.
“That’s not the threat you think it is, cowboy.”
His eyes widen slightly.
Then I spin around and take off running. Sprinting toward the clinic.
Behind me, I hear boots pounding against the gravel.
“Get back here!” he yells as he chases me.
I laugh as I glance over my shoulder. His long legs are closing the distance. Dammit, he’s moving fast for a man who just got his bell rung.
I squeal and run faster. Past the arena. Past the equipment shed. To the clinic door.
Axle is right behind me.
Victory.