A woman lay on her stomach in front of him. He knew her, didn’t he? Was he supposed to help her?
He tried to stand but gravity pulled at him like a magnet. He wobbled on his knees, trying not to fall.
“Stay down.”
Rough hands shoved him back to the ground. A man was yelling at the girl.
Deanna. That was her name. Sean really should try to fight back. Make that guy stop yelling at her. He would. Later. After he got his head right.
No, now. Something was wrong. Deanna needed him.
Sean struggled to stand again but his body wouldn’t obey. He had no more strength than a rag doll. The hands were on him again, pulling him into a seated position, pushing him against something. A dull pain throbbed against Sean’s temple. He closed his eyes. He just wanted to focus. If he could only process what was happening. That’s all he wanted. To stop being so confused.
Eventually, the details began to fall into place. He remembered he was with Deanna Jackson, that they had been flying. He remembered landing here and the swinging gun that had caught him by surprise. The fog was clearing from his brain but it was too late.
The pilot had tied him up, and Sean couldn’t move.
The world swam in such a blur Sean quickly closed his eyes again. He tried to reach his hands up to hold his head, but his wrists were handcuffed and his arms pinned to his sides with tight duct tape. He moaned and fell sideways so he could lean against the shed wall.
Something squirmed behind him. Sean shot back up fast, releasing another wave of intense vertigo. Deanna was behind him. They were bound back-to-back with the tape securely strapping them together across their torsos. He glanced down. His legs were bound, too, just above the ankles.
“Sean? Are you awake?” Deanna sounded far away, her voice full of fear.
He started to nod but decided it was best to keep his head still. “Yeah. What happened?”
“All I had to do was reach for my gun. I had it right there but I panicked.” Her voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”
His chest tightened. Deanna wasn’t the type to cry. Not being able to reach her to comfort her hurt worse than his head. “This is nothing, Dee. You’ve seen me get my bell rung worse than this riding bulls. This isn’t any different than those times. I’m already feeling better.”
“But he used your head like a baseball.”
The throbbing inside his skull agreed with her. “Maybe. But I’ll take a knock in the head over a gunshot wound any day. He didn’t like being outnumbered, but he must’ve bought your story or he would have just shot me. That was quick thinking.”
Deanna felt so tiny leaning against his back. She was a petite woman, but it had never occurred to him to think of her as small. She’d always been the golden girl, larger than life in his eyes, and far beyond his reach. In high school, she’d been like a sun with a mass of people constantly orbiting around her.
This small, sad voice wasn’t hers. He wanted to squeeze her hand, but he couldn’t reach it.
Sean swallowed. He needed to ask her something, but it was hard to spit out the words. Probably because he was afraid of the answer. They came out just above a whisper. “Deanna, did that guy hurt you?”
He steeled himself.
“No. I’m okay. I think he’s waiting for others to show up to tell him whether or not we are who we say we are before he does anything to us.”
Sean released the breath he’d held. Thank God. “See, you bought us time. That’s good. Where’d he go?”
“He got bored, so he’s rummaging through my plane.”
Sean squinted toward the Cessna. “He’ll be back soon.”
“What do you think he’s doing up here, anyway? And who’s that Pritchard guy he mentioned?”
“I don’t know,” Sean admitted. “I’d guess he’s meeting someone and whoever it is, they won’t be happy to see us. This might be our only chance to get away.”
“I agree, but how?” Deanna asked.
Sean flexed his chest. The tape didn’t give at all. “We’ve got to get our hands free first. I’m going to lean forward and try to chew the tape loose around my wrists,” he said. “Can you roll onto my back while I roll forward?”
They maneuvered in sync, Sean bending in half at the waist and Deanna arching backward onto the heels of her boots. Barely reaching his wrists, Sean bit at the gray tape but it was bound several times around and was too thick to chew through. He’d break through eventually, but it would take too long. He sat up slowly, easing Deanna back down behind him.
“I need something to saw with,” he said.
And to stop being so dizzy. That would help.
He reached for a stick, but it was so far out of reach he almost knocked them both onto their sides trying to stretch to it. This wasn’t working. He needed a plan, but it was still hard to think straight. Man, his head hurt.
Sean’s back was warm where Deanna leaned against him. The pilot might not have hurt her yet, but there was no denying that hungry look Sean had seen in his eyes. He would hurt her if he got a chance. Sean needed to get her to safety, but he couldn’t move.
Defeated by a city boy and a roll of duct tape. It was humiliating.
He pulled hard against the tape again, but it didn’t loosen any more than it had the last time. He closed his eyes. God, I don’t know what to do. Show me how to get her out of here.
“Got any ideas?” he asked Deanna.
Her head rocked against his back. “No. But I think you’re right—we need to get our hands free first.”
Sean stared at his feet. Maybe he could rub his wrists against the edges of his cowboy boots and break the tape. But that would be as slow as trying to chew through it.
“Wait.” Sean sat up straight. “What kind of boots are you wearing?”
“Ropers.”
“Lace-ups?”
“Yeah, why?”
He had an idea, and it just might work. “If you lean forward, could you reach your laces?”
“Probably.”
Her laces should be thick enough to get some good friction. “Unlace one just enough to get it up to your mouth. If you can bite down on it and pull it tight enough, it’ll give you something to saw against the tape. Can you do it?”
“I’ll try.” She folded over in half and followed his instructions. He tried to keep his weight off her. “Got it,” she mumbled. She sat up and he rolled back.
“Okay, now, keep it really tight.”
The desire to be free pulsed through him. It was so hard to sit still, to be helpless like this. He could feel the rocking motion behind him as Deanna slid her wrist up and down the bootlace. “You gotta hurry.”
“Almost got it,” she said. There was a manic tone to her voice. Her enthusiasm was contagious. “It worked! My hands are loose!”
“Good,” he said. “Now your ankles.”
“There!”
The sound of ripping duct tape that hit his ears might possibly have been the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. His idea was working. He could almost taste freedom. But in the distance, the pilot jumped down from the