Free Eye of the Storm by Renee Simons

expression. "I suppose kids were perfect back in the good old days."
    "Not perfect but there were rules. The older guys always looked out for the younger ones who learned from their example. But like today's kids, they could be pretty cruel at times."
    "You speak from personal experience."
    "When someone's a little different, they'll use that difference against you if they can."
    "Like the color of your eyes."
    He nodded.
    "I have to admit I've wondered about them."
    "And you're so well-bred, you didn't ask." He laughed.   "Logic and all those X/Y chromosome rules say I should have found an ancestor who passed them down to me . . . in birth records, or the tribe's oral history. Well, I never did, no matter how far back I went or how deep I dug.
    "When I was in college, I spoke to some biologists. They called my eye color an anomaly, something that shouldn't have happened, but did. And since the guys who'd called me a freak had been right, I stopped being angry. To tell the truth, they weren't any worse than the men I served with who called me 'Chief' or 'Geronimo' because they thought it was a compliment."
    "Or not," Zan said.
    "Or not," he agreed with a grin.
    The rodeo was already under way by the time they reached the campground. They stood near the front and a little to the side of a crowded section of the grandstand. Stormwalker explained the events and the scoring as the competition proceeded through saddle bronc riding, calf roping and steer wrestling.
    "How did you learn so much about these events," she asked.
    "I competed for a couple of years while I was in college."
    "Did you win any prize money?"
    "Enough to help pay my way through school."
    The bull riding competition came last. Stormwalker pointed out the requirements of riding form, the way the bulls spun and ducked their heads and how these contributed to the riders' final scores.
    Something about the way the last bull spun out of the chute and into the corral bothered him. "What's wrong?" Zan whispered.
    He silenced her with a hand on her arm as he watched the rider, who bounced high off the animal's back. "He's out of control. He's gonna come down over that bull's head."
    Stormwalker looked around the ring. The rodeo clown was at the far corner, chasing down two kids who'd scaled the railing and now ran along the inside of the corral. Two cowboys stood by the rider to help in an emergency. At the moment, they were positioned to catch him if he came off the bull sideways, in a proper dismount.
    Stormwalker had a hunch he would come off in front of the animal, where the bull could see him and be in perfect position to strike with his horns. The clown, whose job it was to distract the bull, was too far away to help.
    The voice inside his head cautioned him to stay out of the way, but he had ignored that voice before. Glad he'd taped his aching ribs before leaving the house, he tore off his glasses, shoved them at Zan, and dashed down the aisle.
    From her place at the foot of the grandstand, Zan watched the cowboys madly waving their arms and yelling at the animal.   As Stormwalker vaulted the corral fence, the rider bounced over the bull's head, landing so close to the animal no one could get between them. The bull lowered his head and hooked him, tossing him like an empty feed sack. The cowboy landed hard and tried to roll out of the way, but the animal butted him, flattening him in the dust and raising a collective groan from the spectators.
    Stormwalker turned and seemed to recognize the clown. They exchanged words she couldn't make out. The clown tossed a lariat at Stormwalker as the beast pawed the ground uncomfortably close to the fallen rider's head.
      With another lariat in his hand, the clown pointed to the bull's horns. Spectators rushed to the railing, blocking Zan's view. She heard the bull bellow and from the sound of pounding hooves, thought he had charged. A loud thud was followed by a cheer from the viewers. By the time she'd pushed her way