LITMIR.BIZ

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pocket. A fierce blow loud enough to hurt her ears confused the animal. He stopped and turned to look at her for a brief second.

      Then ignored her and charged back toward Seth. The men almost had him over the fence.

      Tonya dashed over to slap the bull on his hindquarters, then dart off to the right since he had his head lowered and to the left. The animal roared, pivoted in the direction she’d anticipated he would. It bought her some time, but not much. He finally came after her. Mia, who’d climbed from the safety of her barrel, waved her hands and yelled, but the bull had Tonya in his sights and wasn’t being distracted.

      Tonya didn’t hesitate. She was dead if she did. She ran for the fence, grasped the top rail and flipped herself over. She hit the ground on the other side as the bull’s horns hooked through the fence. With a snort and a few bucks, he stomped off, back to the pen. Mia jumped over the fence and collapsed down on the ground. “You okay?”

      “Yeah. You?”

      “Yeah.”

      “I’m all right,” Tonya gasped. “And Seth... Did they get him out? Is he okay?”

      “Thanks to you, he is,” a deep male voice said. Tonya felt hands grab her, pulling her to her feet, and immediately her mind went to her stalker. She released a quavering sigh. The man who had her was a stranger to her, but somewhere in the crowd, Hank Newman waited.

      Was he still here? Her eyes darted from face to face. Too many faces. He could be hiding behind any one of them. “That was some move you did there over the rail. Never seen anything like it,” another voice said.

      Tonya focused on the speaker. Monty Addison, Mia’s brother. “Gymnastics,” she muttered. She took several long, deep breaths. “Where’s Seth now? How bad is he hurt?” She whirled around, still scanning the area, grimacing at the twinge in her lower back. She might have made it over the fence, but her form could have used a little work.

      She saw the EMTs hovering over Seth about ten yards down. She rushed toward him, concerned. “Please, God, let him be okay,” she whispered.

      Monty stayed with her. She could almost feel his worry as she came up to the edge of the crowd. They now had Seth on a stretcher, his leg in splints. The sight of his pale, colorless face grabbed her heart, and she nearly buckled as the past rose up in her mind once again. “Daniel,” she whispered. “Not again.”

      “He’s going to be all right, Tonya,” Monty said, gripping her arm. “It’s not like Daniel this time. Seth is going to be fine. Maybe banged up and sore, but okay.”

      She blinked back tears. “How do you know?”

      “They didn’t pull the sheet over his face.” He turned and walked away.

      Tonya swallowed hard. Daniel. Her friend, the man who’d wanted to marry her. Grief welled up again and she shoved it aside. The EMTs carried Seth through the silent crowd and to the ambulance. While they maneuvered him inside, she glanced around, eyes probing. Rhett gave her a two-fingered salute. She nodded and kept looking. Where was Hank? She didn’t want to leave town just yet; she wanted to stay and find out how Seth was doing. But she couldn’t take a chance that Hank would find her and try to kill her again.

      She raced toward the ambulance and grabbed one of the EMTs’ arms before he could swing into the driver’s seat. “Let me go with him,” she panted.

      “Sorry, ma’am.”

      A glance over her shoulder sent terror slashing through her as her eyes collided with Hank Newman’s. He lifted a hand and she saw his lips form the word “Wait.”

      She looked for an escape route. The crowd pressed in, so she couldn’t run fast enough to get away from Hank. He would catch up to her. She did a one-eighty, eyes searching, desperation filling her. She looked back, made a split-second decision and leaped into the back of the ambulance just as the other EMT reached to close the door. “I have to go with him. Please.”

      “Who are you?”

      “A friend,” she said softly.

      He studied her for a second. “Sorry.”

      “Let her come,” Seth rasped.

      The paramedic turned back to Seth. “You’re awake?”

      “Let her come.” He let out a pained groan and rolled his head on the pillow. The EMT grasped his stethoscope. “Come on, then.” He held out a hand.

      She latched on to it and scrambled up into the nearest seat. She glanced back and saw Hank closing the distance. “Hurry,” she pleaded.

      “Tonya!”

      She glanced left, panic-stricken, but that wasn’t Hank calling her. Jake Foster sped toward her. He seemed dead set on stopping them before it was too late, but impatience to get the doors shut hurtled through her. Moments later Jake reached the back of the ambulance and tossed an object at her. She caught it in midair. A phone. “It’s Seth’s cell,” he told her. “I want to be able to call. Keep it on. Tell him I’ll clean out my truck if he needs a ride home from the hospital!” He disappeared as the doors slammed shut in his face. She shoved the phone in her back pocket and let a relieved breath escape her.

      The EMT looked at her funny. She ignored him and glanced at Seth. He still looked awful and she thought he might have lapsed back into unconsciousness. Within seconds they were moving. Through the back window, she saw Hank standing still, watching them, the frown on his face shouting his displeasure.

      And Tonya knew, whatever she did, she’d better not wind up within her ex’s grasp ever again.

      Because this time he wouldn’t just leave her for dead—he would finish the job.

TWO

      Seth stirred, then pushed himself into a sitting position on the gurney and winced as his leg throbbed. Intense anger burned through him. Two months back on the circuit and he found himself injured again. This was not how he’d planned to spend his Thursday evening.

      “Hey, hey, no sitting up.” The paramedic on his left frowned at him. Seth ignored him but closed his eyes until the surge of dizziness passed. When his head stopped spinning, he opened his eyes and the EMT shrugged. “Okay, then, sit up. How do you feel?” The man bent over him, concern knitting his brow.

      “Like I’ve been trampled by a bull.” He waved a hand. “I’m fine.” He gestured to his splinted leg. Someone had split the denim from hem to midthigh. “Is it broken?”

      “Don’t think so, just a very nasty bruise. You’re fortunate you weren’t hurt worse.”

      He grunted. “I’ll give God—and Tonya—the credit.” Fatigue swept over him. He turned his head and his gaze collided with a pair of sky blue eyes. Eyes that he’d not been able to get out of his head from their very first encounter. “Tonya? What are you doing here?”

      The paramedic frowned. “You said to let her come.”

      “I did?” He didn’t remember that...but okay. He lifted a brow in her direction and was intrigued at the flush that darkened her cheeks. But what really caught his attention was the haunted skittishness in her eyes. He reached out and clasped her fingers in his. “I’m glad you’re here.”

      The flush deepened. From the corner of his eye he saw the EMT relax a fraction. The blood-pressure cuff tightened on his arm. “Why did I pass out? Am I bleeding anywhere?”

      “No, sir. Probably passed out from the pain.”

      “Right.” He remembered the pain. Vividly. “That pain wasn’t as bad as my break, though.” Close, but not quite.

      “That’s a good thing.”

      “Which hospital are we heading for?”

      “Vanderbilt University.”

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