****
Slade settled onto the bull’s back, being careful to keep his feet up and forward. He took his wrap with the end of his bull rope and pulled himself toward his hand. This bull was huge, almost filling the chute. He had his seat and looked up to signal he was ready and instantly realized something was wrong. The moment he glimpsed Isabel below the hidden gate, his gut knotted in fear.
“Isabel!” Her name escaped his lips just as she was knocked to the ground from behind.
That same instant the bull reared up and slammed into the panel in front of him, smashing his feet and legs and nearly hitting him with its head. Rossen slapped him hard in the face and hissed, “Marsh! Focus! Now!”
Mentally hauled back to the fact that he was seated atop 2000 pounds of rodeo bull, he thought to himself, Eight seconds. That’s all. Just eight seconds.
He instantly nodded for the gate, letting the instinct of years of experience take over as the bull exploded out of the chute. Violently it bucked and spun, his body automatically counter-balancing and adjusting, his subconscious knowing exactly what the raging animal would do next. It plunged left for two spins and then went right, whipping erratically down in front as it kicked wickedly out the back, lashing to the side and plunging into another even tighter spin followed with a bone-jarring reversal.
It whipped its head so far back around that its horn smashed Slade in the thigh before it plunged its head between its front legs again in another mighty kicking buck. At that point, everything began to blur. It seemed he rode for a lifetime before hearing the horn.
Finally!
With the whistle, he brought his free hand down to release his wrap as he fought to stay in the middle of the bull’s back. Free at last, he timed its stride and sprung off and to the rear, almost landing on his feet in the dirt. Up instantly, he whirled, trying to find the bull, and ducked out of its way as it spun to come back after him. His world was a kaleidoscope of bull, clowns and officials while he was trying to orient himself in the arena. In the background was the deafening sound of the crowd and the announcer. The fact that he had just won the world title never crossed his mind.
Realizing he was across the arena from where he'd last seen Isabel, he tried to gauge whether or not he could beat the bull across. The bull made the decision for him as it came racing down the dirt, scattering bull-fighters and officials in its wake. It was a deadly game of dominos as man after man jumped up the fence when the bull pounded past.
Desperate to get to Isabel, Slade waited until after the bull went by, then sprinted across the arena. Halfway across the bull spotted him and it was a race to the death with Slade winning by one stride. Reaching the alley gate, he went up and over as the bull smashed into it with its massive head. Two seconds later, as it took off back down the arena after an official, Rossen jumped down from the chutes and went up and over the gate after him.
The Rocklands and Dante had been so intent on Slade’s bull ride, they didn’t even realize something was wrong until he and Rossen went flying over the gate. Looking around they were mystified about the whereabouts of Isabel until they realized the hidden gate was open and there were two people standing below it, one of whom was putting a pair of handcuffs on the other.
****
Judd had caught a handful of hair where he was dragging Isabel by her left arm and her head was pulled back and to the side. She struggled to try and keep her feet and couldn’t see where they were going or what was going on behind them. When she saw the door to the secure room as she was dragged past it, helpless to try and lock herself in, she began to pray fervently.
Judd was snarling and swearing at her as they made their way with her stumbling at his side, trying to loosen his hold. It felt like forever, but it must have only been a few seconds because she heard the crowd go wild back in the arena after Slade’s ride. They sounded strangely far away. At some level it registered that he must have made it safely through.
She could hear shouting in the alleyway behind them and shots rang out. It was an eerie mix of normal gunshots and the peculiar whistle of a silencer that reverberated in the iron tunnel and seemed horribly close to them.
The bucking horses in the pen Judd dragged her past began to mill around nervously. Through all of this her earpiece remained strangely quiet.
Repeatedly she tried to reach her gun, but from this position she couldn’t even reach her pocket. Finally, she jerked her hair out of Judd’s grasp and was able to see what was going on behind her.
Five men and Keary were in a running fire fight in the tunnel under the arena. One man was down, back near the entrance to the tunnel, and the others were either trying to run and shoot, or were trying to take cover behind the upright metal I-beams protruding from the outer wall. In the melee, it was hard to tell who were FBI and who were criminals. As she heard a bullet whine past her to clang wickedly against the steel tunnel, she assumed the ones aiming at her and Judd were not the agents.
Judd picked up the pace to a stumbling run, and at one point she accidentally tripped him and they fell headlong. As he dragged her back to her feet, she realized in his other hand he too held a gun.
She heard a loud clank back in the tunnel and felt a fresh surge of fear as she realized they were running up the same tunnel the pickup men turned the bulls into after they were ridden. As if to reinforce her fear, Special Agent Gray’s usually calm voice rang in her ear, “Those of you down in the tunnel, there’s 2000 pounds of angry beef pounding down your back door! Get out of the way!”
Isabel looked back and if there was any question as to which were FBI, it was cleared up immediately as three of the six figures left the shelter of the I-beams and raced across the alley to climb the fence on the other side. Two of them made it to safety as the bull raged down the lane, but he caught the third one half way up the fence and tossed her high into the air with his horns. Hardly seeming to notice the woman he’d flipped so violently, he then lowered his huge head and kept on coming up the alleyway.
Still looking back, Isabel began to scream frantically at Judd, fighting him like a wildcat, as it raged closer. The thugs in the alley realized too late and before they could react, the beast was upon them. It hit one without even pausing, knocking him down to run right over the top of him, and caught the second one with his horn. The bull threw its head angrily and sent him flying like a rag doll right over the nearby fence and into the pen of bucking horses beyond it. They shied violently, and circled their pen like a living wave, the man disappearing under its crest. Even in her panic Isabel felt sick.
Not waiting to see more, she turned from the sight of the crushed bodies to tear at Judd’s hands, almost feeling the bull’s breath as it bore down on them. Steeling herself for the impact, she pleaded, “Please God, help me!”
As Judd dragged her past another pen next to them, a long-horned roping steer hooked a horn through the rails, catching him in the side. He stumbled, and lost his grip and she cried out in relief as she lunged desperately for the fence, trying to climb as fast and as high as she could. Her feet tangled in the length of her skirt and in complete panic, she pulled herself to the top of the fence by sheer arm strength even as the bull knocked her feet to the side as it slammed into the fence she hung from.
Clinging to the very top of the fence, she saw the bull knock Judd down directly below her, and then circle back around to return and repeatedly smash him into the dirt with its head. It was the most horrific thing she'd ever seen and heard, but she couldn’t make herself look away. After what seemed an eternity the bull lifted its head, seemed to glare up at Isabel for a long, long moment, pawed arena dirt that flew up over its back, then trotted off further into the tunnel. Moments later in the distance she heard a metal gate slam shut.
The alley suddenly became breathlessly still and quiet. Even the stock seemed to be waiting. Isabel carefully stretched her feet down to a rail and glanced over her shoulder. Four people lay in the alley, eerily still, and the other two clung t
o the top of the fence down the way. She saw movement and realized Special Agent Keary was attempting to sit up. From the corner of her eye she saw a man between her and Keary who she’d first thought dead or unconscious, silently extend his arm with a gun in his hand, taking careful aim at the wounded woman. The agents on the fence couldn't see him from their angle.
Isabel knew what she had to do and she didn't hesitate. Her hand slipped into the pocket of her skirt. She gripped her gun, pushed the safety aside, aimed and shot in an instant without even pulling her gun free of the fabric.
A split second later two other shots rang out. There was a metallic ding and the echoing whine of a ricochet and the bucking stock began to plunge and rear in their pens. The gunman she had shot at didn’t react and terror shot through her as she realized he would now turn the gun on her.
When he slowly lowered the gun and slumped further to the side, she started to cry. She was suddenly overcome with weeping and she could feel herself shaking. The storm of emotion was so uncontrollable she couldn’t even climb down. She tried to wipe at her eyes with her shoulder while still clinging to the top of the fence as people poured into the alley.
Slade and Rossen arrived first. Right behind them were the rest of the Rocklands and Dante, and what seemed like thousands of FBI and law enforcement, followed by a pick-up man looking for Slade.
Slade ran straight to Isabel while Rossen came more warily. When Slade approached her, Isabel struggled to control her emotions, feeling like her entire universe was going to shatter. She was completely overwrought, but she knew Slade was needed back in the arena and didn’t want him to feel guilty for having to leave her.
He tried to help her down from the fence but she couldn’t make her hands let go. Finally, he softly said, “It’s all over. Everything is okay.” He pried her fingers loose, lifted her to the ground, and turned her back to the lifeless body of Judd to envelope her in a hug.
After a long moment, against her hair he asked, “Are you hurt?” She shook her head where it was buried in his chest and they simply stood like that until the pick-up man approached.
He sat on his horse, looking all around in amazement. Finally, he said, “Marsh, they’re waiting for you in the arena. Ya’ll gotta get back in there, man.”
Slade turned to him without letting go of Isabel and said, “I’m needed here. I’m sorry, they’ll have to do it without me.”
Isabel pulled back from him and silently shook her head. Mustering all her self-control, she lifted her chin and firmly said, “No, we’ll all go. We can’t miss this.”
The pick-up man stepped down. “Take the horse, Marsh. Hustle!” Slade looked down into her eyes and she did her best to smile at him and nudge him away. With one last squeeze, Slade legged onto the horse and galloped back up the tunnel again, scattering agents and cops.
Isabel turned to go back, wondering if her legs would carry her. Although the first trip down this lane had felt like miles, it was actually only a couple hundred feet back into the arena. Rossen and Dante and the others fell into step beside her, which was good because she needed their strength to walk.
As they passed him, Gray tried to stop them, saying, “We’ll need to ask you some questions before you go.”
Rossen made a sound of disgust and took her elbow, ushering her past the agent, and said with disdain, “You’ve got it all on surveillance.” He waved at the video cameras. “You almost got her killed! You’ve got that on tape too.” Gray opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, as to a man the Rockland men and Dante all moved to surround her and they headed back inside. Her determination to handle this kicked in and she tried to focus only on Slade and what he'd just accomplished.
Isabel’s breath caught in her throat as they reached the arena. The lights were all down except the spotlight that followed Slade and the horse as he galloped the perimeter. All the work and risk and danger, all the miles and strains and injuries had come to fruition, and he had indeed reached his goal. He was now the World Champion All-Around Cowboy. The announcer was giving some background on him and some of the achievements and sacrifices he'd made this year in his quest for the title. The story of his life-threatening wreck brought it back in an instant, but at this moment it all felt worth it. As he finished his ride to thunderous applause, Isabel’s eyes filled again. This time they were happy tears.
He turned the horse into the center of the arena, took off his hat to wave it at the crowd, then putting it back on, he rode out of the spotlight for good and back down into the tunnel.
The announcer made some final remarks, effectively ending the National Finals Rodeo for another year, and the lights started to come back on. Loud, rocking country music began to play and people started climbing the stairs to leave the arena as if nothing was amiss. Everything was so normal it was bizarre.
The relief in the tension was such a let down it was almost numbing and Isabel began to shake again. She leaned against a nearby gate post and gave in to the emotional maelstrom and the tears that had only been made more poignant by the tender feelings from Slade’s award.
Slade returned the horse and thanked the pick-up man. Then he came back and with all the after rodeo crush going on around them, he took Isabel in his arms and just held her, smoothing her hair gently and whispering comfort and hope to her—telling her how proud he was of her and about what a great future they were going to have—how he would keep her and their children safe for the rest of forever.
For the longest time he just held her and kissed her. They’d made it. They’d survived Judd and the mob and the bulls and the injuries and literally everything that had come at them, but they’d made it. Slade was the World Champion All-Around Cowboy, and Isabel was at long last free to move on with her life. They both were. And the rest of their life would be all the more sweet because of what they’d been through. They’d made it.
Finally, as the sweet, sad strains of “This is Where the Cowboy Rides Away” came on over the PA system, Slade tenderly kissed her temple one last time, and spoke with his cheek against her silvery-gold hair, “Come on, Isabel. Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Ninety days later, Ebony Wind had been back at home at Wind Dance Farms for more than two months and the Thoroughbred breeding season was winding down just as it always did in late March. Isabel still missed Eli, Dante and the others in California, but she knew in her heart that Wyoming was where she wanted to be. Other than a visit every few weeks and a lot of phone calls, she'd left the farm in Eli and Dante's capable hands. She still owned half the farm, but no longer needed or wanted to be in on the daily management of it. Dante was engaged, and she gave him her grandfather's house as a wedding present.
As the last snow was melting from the wildflower beds and the wind off the Peace River held the tangy scent of sage, Slade and Isabel Marsh sat in their home office watching a video conference call with the FBI. Special Agent Gray had invited them to sit in as he reported on the closing details with his staff.
He admitted to Isabel that until she had mentioned the bearded agent to him the second to last night, they hadn't realized it was Judd and he added, "To be honest, we didn't think he was smart enough to pull off what he did by himself. He surprised us all, obviously."
The final night of the rodeo they had apprehended nine men including the elusive Tony Delvechio, both at the rodeo and in a simultaneous raid of another home they had had under surveillance there in Las Vegas. Two of the criminals had died of injuries sustained from the bull and horses that night. The rest had either been tried and successfully convicted, had plea bargained to lesser charges, or were bottlenecked in the system awaiting trial with overwhelming evidence against them.
Judd had died without making provisions for his estate, so his house had reverted back to Isabel as his daughter. It was slated for demolition because it held such bad memories that Isabel never wanted to see it again.
The only agent who had suffered more than minor injuries had been
Keary. She’d broken her pelvis and gotten a concussion when the bull had hit her and thrown her with its head. She was mostly better and wanted to come back to work. She swore she wasn’t working near any more bulls, so Gray threatened to assign her to a drug case on a crab boat in the Bering Sea with only his bland smile to prove he was kidding.
In conclusion Gray commented, “The weirdest thing about this case is that in the tunnel when Keary was coming around after being tossed by the bull, the surveillance cameras show one of Tony’s thugs attempting to shoot her. He was stopped by multiple shots from three different people. He actually would have eventually died of injuries from the bull, but in his autopsy they found a fresh gunshot wound from a .25 caliber bullet. The coroner swears it happened at the same time, but none of my agents or any of the perpetrators carried a gun that small. We’ve watched the tapes over and over and have never figured out where that shot came from, but have reason to believe it was the shot that saved her life. We finally just marked the file ‘shooter unknown,’ and shelved it. It’s the only loose end of this whole case.”
As the video conference call concluded, Slade and Isabel sat for a pensive few moments remembering that fateful night. They talked solemnly for several more minutes, then Slade excused himself and went into their bedroom. Following a few minutes later, Isabel found him in her closet looking in the little black case she kept on the top shelf.
When she realized what he was doing, she turned to him and searched his eyes, afraid of what she would see there. There was no sign of the disgust or repulsion she feared. Instead, his voice was gentle when he asked sadly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked down and admitted, “I’m not even sure how to feel about it. I certainly didn’t want anyone else to know.”
Peace River (Rockland Ranch Series) Page 23