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

stands said, not softly enough, “They’re putting the  wheelchair kid in there?”

Another voice answered, “Somebody better have a lawyer.”

Jonah rolled to the center of the round pen and locked his brakes.

The arena seemed too large from the middle. Faces lined the rails. Sunlight struck the pale sand. The open alley behind him looked like a throat.

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