“Talk about selling tickets, he’s the wreck and rank ride all in one night. That had to hurt, but you know what will make him feel better? A score like this: 88.5 points!” the announcer says, as Knox takes off his helmet, grits his teeth and climbs out of the chute.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“I think he’s okay. He looked okay, right?” I say to no one in particular. I just need someone to tell me he’s okay, even if it’s only to make me feel better. It’s not like any of us really knows if he’s okay.
“Yeah, Bug. He got up quickly and climbed out on his own. I’m sure he’ll be sore, but he can’t be too hurt if he’s climbing out of there on his own two feet,” Dad reassures me.
Carson points up at the TV. “Look, he’s there helping Trey.”
My eyes snap back to the screen. He’s right, you can see Knox is back up on the chutes by Trey on the side of the camera frame. He took his chaps and vest off and put his cowboy hat back on. He’s talking to Trey who already has all of his gear on and Knox seems fine.
“See? He’s alright. Bull riders are tough.”
“This is his traveling partner, right?” Jessie asks.
She wasn’t at the ranch the day they stopped, and she has only seen him with his helmet on. I never bothered to look him up online, so when they got to the ranch and I saw his shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes, and smile that could drop a nun’s panties, I knew he and Jessie would be fire and gasoline. He’sexactlyher type.
“Yeah, he fell in the well and ‘got ran the fuck over’ last night. He’s gotta be sore,” I tell her.
“Language,” my dad scolds.
“It’s a loophole.” I smirk at him. “I was quoting Knox, I don’t want to misquote him.”
Carson scoffs next to me as my dad glares at me. Outside working, he’s worse than a sailor, but he’s always had a rule about cursing in the house.
“What’s the well?” Jessie asks.
“Knox explained it to me last night. When a bull starts to spin, they refer to the inside of the spin as ‘the well’ because once you fall in, there’s almost no chance of climbing back out. He said some bulls are naturally welly because of how they buck, and they get a reputation for dropping guys in.”
We watch Trey buck off at 6 seconds, then all of us move to the kitchen to clean up dinner. Pretty soon, my phone is ringing. I pull it out of my pocket to check the caller ID.
“Go,” my dad says, “talk to him. We’ve got this covered.”
“Thanks, I’ll text and let you know how he is.” I wave goodbye as I walk out the back door and answer Knox’s call.
“Hey, we’re packing up to head out. Wanted to call you quick.”
“Are you okay? Looked like that dismount hurt.” I catch the tremble in my voice and take a deep breath. I trot down the back steps of Dad’s house and start walking home with Rein on my heels.
I can hear Knox moving around packing up. “Yeah, I’m all good, just knocked the air out of me a little.”
“Good to hear. It was a great ride. Think you’ll win it?”
“Thanks, probably not. There’re some good matchups tomorrow night, but I should get a good check.”
“As long as you’re pulling checks, you’ll keep climbing in the standings,” I say encouragingly.
“Exactly,” I can hear the smile on his face. “Hang on one sec, I’m going to start the truck, and you’ll connect to the speakers.” I hear doors shutting and the dinging of the key in the ignition.
The phone connects to the truck speakers right as Trey asks, “What was your bull’s name?”
“Prime Time,” Knox answers.
“Yeah, Prime Time to get your shit wrecked.” Trey laughs and I hear shuffling like Knox hit him.
“Oh, fuck off. You’re the one who got thirsty last night and dove into the well.”
“I wasn’t thirsty, I thought I saw a penny,” Trey jokes back.
