Quinn felt the gelding’s muscles bunch.“Whoa!”he yelled.
Hyper wasn’t listening.He shot through the gate and in three strides was in a dead run.Quinn’s hat sailed off, and he lost his stirrups, but he kept his grip on the flag, which streamed dramatically over his shoulder.The grandstands, filled with cheering people, passed in a blur, then passed in a blur again as Hyper turned the arena into his private racetrack.
As Quinn whizzed past the gate, the other riders waved their hats and whistled.Quinn would bet Jo wasn’t whistling.And if Hyper kept up this merry-go-round much longer, she might even ride out and pull him to a stop.God, how humiliating.
“Whoa, dammit!”he yelled.He was afraid to let go of the saddle horn to pull back on the reins, and if he dropped the flag so he could grab the reins, then everyone would know he was involved in a major screwup instead of the dramatic flourish they were giving him credit for.Worse yet, they might begin to wonder if he was really Brian Hastings.
He tried to remember what Fred had taught him.Oh, yeah.Grip with your thighs.You could even steer with your thighs, assuming your thighs didn’t feel as if somebody had set fire to them, which Quinn’s pretty much did.
He gritted his teeth as he flashed by the stands again.Hyper was young and strong.He could probably run for quite a long time, especially when he had the impression he was being chased by an American flag.So Quinn couldn’t hope the horse would get tired.And he definitely didn’t want Jo to ride out and save him.
The only solution was to get the horse through the gate somehow.After that Hyper would probably continue to run, but maybe they’d get far enough away that Quinn could safely drop the flag and try to establish control.Then again, maybe he and Hyper would see a great deal of the Montana countryside together.
Quinn figured that if he shifted his weight and used his tortured thigh muscles, he might be able to get Hyper to swerve through the gate instead of sailing past it.Bracing himself against the pain, he started leaning and squeezing as Hyper went into the straightaway and headed in the direction of the gate.Twice before the horse had veered left and continued around the arena.Quinn vowed he wouldn’t do it again.
Apparently Hyper didn’t care where he ran as long as he could keep doing it.He stampeded right through the gate as riders waiting beside it scattered in front of his pounding hoofs.Ahead was the parking lot, and beyond that, open country.
Quinn hung on as Hyper veered headlong between rows of pickup trucks.Once out of the parking lot, Quinn figured he’d drop the flag and try to put an end to this wild ride.Then he heard hoofbeats behind him and looked over his shoulder.Sure enough, Jo was in hot pursuit, with Benny behind her.Maybe it was just as well.He was nearly at the edge of the lot, and he really didn’t want to ride this nag all the way to Idaho.
As he faced forward again, a long white vehicle pulled across the empty space at the end of the lot.Quinn squinted, not quite believing what he saw.A limo?In Ugly Bug?
Hyper didn’t slow his pace as the limo stopped, blocking the horse’s path.
Quinn dropped the flag and seized the reins in both hands.“Whoa, you sorry nag!Whoa, goddammit!You’re gonna hit the car, you idiot horse!”When Hyper didn’t respond, Quinn braced himself for one hell of a collision.
Instead, Hyper gathered himself and sailed gracefully over the limo.Unfortunately Quinn didn’t make the trip with him.Falling sideways, he hit the roof of the limo and rolled down the windshield, coming to rest facedown on the hood.
In seconds, Jo was leaning over him.“Don’t move!Did you hit your head?Where are you hurt?Oh, Quinn, speak to me!”
He was having trouble drawing a breath, but he was at least able to register the concern in her voice.Well, good.She cared for him a little.“Don’t call me Quinn,” he muttered.“I’m Brian Hastings.”
“That’s funny,” said another voice.“So am I.”
ChapterTwenty-Five
“Not yet, you’re not,” Jo said, barely giving the man a glance as she leaned over Quinn, her chest tight with fear.So Brian Hastings was here.So what?“Talk to me, my darling.Does anything feel broken?”
“I don’t think so.Where’s Hyper?”
“Benny went after him.”
“Boss, you need anything?”said the uniformed driver as he climbed out of the limo.
“Not right now, Sid,” Hastings said.Then he turned to Jo.“What do you mean, not yet?I’ve been Brian Hastings ever since the studio changed my name from Bernard Hilzendeger.I made it legal ten years ago.Listen, do you want me to call 911?’
“Yes,” said Jo.
“No,” said Quinn.“I’m okay.”He pushed himself slowly to his hands and knees.“But I dented the limo.”
“It appears you did,” Hastings said
“Call 911,” Jo said as she gazed into Quinn’s beloved face.Fred had said the greenhorn had heart, and Fred sure knew what he was talking about.“He’s in shock.”
“No, don’t call 911,” Quinn said, looking at Hastings.
“My God.”Hastings stared at Quinn.“It’s like looking in a mirror.”
“Don’t you wish.”Jo didn’t spare the movie star a glance as she stroked Quinn’s cheek.“I’m so sorry I put you through this, sweetheart.Please forgive me.I should have found a better way to raise the money than having you impersonate this guy.If you’re seriously hurt I’ll never forgive myself.”
