The crowd thought the boy in the wheelchair was helpless-until the wild mustang lowered his head to his boots

dull scrape.

The opening was narrow, barely wide enough for his chair. Jonah pushed through, the metal gate brushing his knuckles as he entered the main ring.

The announcer noticed first. “Hold up. Hold up, we’ve got someone inside the fence.”

Handlers turned. One of them swore under his breath and started toward Jonah at a jog. Another raised both hands continue reading …