Page 26

T he clock ticked by in a steady rhythm, a quiet companion to Rhae. She was rarely alone, but Honor had stopped by to take Navy to art therapy with the guys again.

Rhae had kissed her daughter’s chubby cheek before passing her off to Honor. She was a godsend, and Rhae appreciated how much her daughter loved their special visits.

She looked toward the playmat, just laying there on the floor, all the little toys sprawled across it ready for Navy to come back and play.

She returned to writing her notes about the last therapy session.

Her patient was making big leaps in his mental health, but most of the credit should go to the hard work on the ranch.

Repairing fence, moving cattle to better grazing land and cleaning out the barn gave that veteran more grounding in the real world than Rhae ever could.

But she was proud to be part of his care.

A knock on the door made her look up. Quickly, she closed the notebook and pushed away from her desk, calling out, “Come in!”

The door opened, and surprise washed over her. “Justin.”

He stepped in, darting a look around. “Is this a good time?”

“Of course.” She offered him a smile, though she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. She still wasn’t quite sure about the man, as their last session hadn’t felt very productive. But sometimes it happened. She could only hope this session was an improvement on their time together.

She wished she had found a few minutes to dig up more about him. But there would be time for that later.

She waved a hand at the room. “Sit anywhere you like.”

He moved to the armchair again, sinking into the heavy leather. Everything about his posture was stiff. Even his clothes—jeans and a flannel shirt—seemed to be out of place on the man.

She took the sofa opposite him and met his gaze. “I see you took my advice to skip the appointment and just popped by for a chat today. How are things going?”

“Fine.” He didn’t relax into the seat. Not unusual for any patient let alone a new one.

She sought to put him at ease and sat back, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap. “Have you been assigned any work on the ranch?”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, drawing her attention to his build.

Compared to a lot of the veterans she worked with, Justin didn’t carry as much muscle.

The mental note made her wonder again just how long he was enlisted, since the men seemed to harden with each year they spent in the military.

“Been doing some work in the fields, leveling out the ground.”

She bobbed her head. “It’s beautiful land—nice to spend time outdoors.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound like he was committing to her view on the beauty of Wyoming. He lifted a hand to his forehead, swiping a finger through the sheen of sweat there.

The day wasn’t very warm, so she could only surmise he was highly uncomfortable. Seeking to put him at ease, she got up and crossed the space to her desk to pick up a new notebook. Often she found that having her attention directed elsewhere helped patients lower their defenses.

The clock continued its ticking, but it didn’t ground her like it normally did. It seemed to be counting down, extending the short minutes since Justin arrived.

When she returned to her seat, she offered him a small smile of encouragement and put pen to paper, jotting a note about how uncomfortable he was. Sweating. Eyes darting around the room, landing on anything but her.

She asked him some more questions, which he answered with the same calm aloofness that he had every question she asked so far.

Detached, she wrote in her notes.

She was secretly glad that Navy wasn’t here, that she was out with Auntie Honor, getting kisses and fingerpainting with people who cared about her. She couldn’t shake the disquiet inside her when she thought about the way Justin sneered at the baby.

She watched him now. His expression was unreadable. He didn’t casually slouch like the other veterans—he perched on the edge as if ready to jump up at any moment.

The other guys used Navy as a buffer between them and her when they talked.

Since Justin didn’t enjoy Navy time and the notebook hadn’t worked, she needed to find a new way to make him comfortable.

She closed the notebook and carried it to her desk, hoping that having the desk between them might make him feel safer.

“Have you ever been on a ranch before now? Growing up, maybe?” She left the prompt open for him to start talking about his past.

“No. Not before I came here.”

“Never been around animals?”

“Not big animals like these.”

“Some of the guys are intimidated by the cattle at first. I admit I was frightened by the horses when I first got here too.”

“I’m not frightened.”

She was getting somewhere, even if getting Justin to talk was like pulling teeth. She pulled open a desk drawer and withdrew a file with blank intake forms. She would have him fill out a questionnaire before they wrapped up today’s session.

They’d be making slow progress, but there was no timeline. And she was patient.

She asked him another question about what he’d expected from ranch life. When he didn’t immediately respond, she stood and turned to her filing cabinet. As she shifted around some files, Justin started talking in a slow, even tone.

She listened to him intently, aware that he seemed to open up more when she was occupied with another task. Encouraged by this, she continued sorting through files.

The creak of leather of the chair he sat in told her that he was finally getting more comfortable.

But the next creak didn’t sound normal.

A prickle ran up her nape. She straightened a little, half turning to face him.

A sharp sting jabbed the side of her neck.

Her gasp was strangled, and her hand flew to the spot just below her ear.

Pain exploded like fire through her skin, riding along her veins. Her gaze fixed on Justin’s face and his image began to swim in her vision.

Her knees buckled.

She tried to twist to see him, but the edges of the room blurred.

“What…what did you do?” she rasped, barely a whisper.

Justin replaced the cap on the syringe he just jabbed her with and slipped it into his pocket. He studied her like a problem he was finally solving.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” His voice was too calm. Too smooth. “We’re just going to take a little trip.”

Her brain scrambled in a fog of static. She reached out to hold on to the filing cabinet, but her arms turned to rubber. She stared down at her hands, unable to feel them. They weren’t connected to her body anymore.

She was floating.

Her legs buckled, and she collapsed to the floor. “I can’t go. I…can’t.” She began crawling in the slowest of slow motion, trying to drag herself to the door.

His footsteps were slow and precise as he approached. “In another minute or two, you won’t even be able to talk.”

Terror clenched her throat. She tried to scream, but it came out as a whimper, no louder than Navy’s sleepy sighs. Her vision spiraled inward. Tunneled. Black spots swelled. Her thoughts collapsed into a vortex of panic.

Navy.

Denver.

Help me.

Justin crouched beside her, checked her pulse, and then hauled her up like a sack of laundry.

She couldn’t fight him. Her limbs were useless. Her head lolled.

The world twisted sideways as he dragged her to her feet.

Somehow, she was able to stand again. She hardly felt her feet, let alone the new burst of panic in her chest when he propelled her to the rear exit no one ever used.

A vehicle waited. Her mind struggled to take in the details, but there was nothing to remember. The SUV seemed too nondescript.

He opened the passenger door and urged her inside, buckling her in like she was a child.

“Wouldn’t want you bumping around back here,” he muttered, almost thoughtfully.

She jerked her head, trying to bite him, but she moved too slow. Her jaw didn’t move.

Tears streamed from her eyes, but she couldn’t even feel them on her cheeks.

The hum of the engine was the last thing she heard clearly before her body gave in, the blackness swallowing her whole.

When she woke again, everything was wrong.

The hum was deeper, vibrating through her bones. The seat beneath her wasn’t that of a car—it was cushioned and narrow. She blinked like her eyelids were weighted, and it felt like it took ages for her vision to adjust.

The sound wasn’t coming from a car engine.

It was a plane.

Her gaze moved sluggishly around the empty cabin. No one else was onboard.

Her breathing hitched.

Rhae dug her fingers into the seat. Her wrists weren’t bound, but her limbs were too heavy to move more than a twitch.

She turned her head slightly, and agony shot down her neck. Her focus fixed on two other seats beside her, and then she saw she wasn’t really alone on this flight.

One was occupied.

Justin.

He faced forward, arms crossed, perfectly still as if this was just another flight and she wasn’t even there.

He changed out of the jeans that were too clean and the flannel shirt that looked so out of place on him.

Now he wore a crisp, buttoned-up shirt and slacks.

He looked more like a businessman than a criminal.

She let out a small gasp.

“You’re awake,” he said without looking at her. “That’s good. We’ll be landing soon.”

“Why…” The word rasped from her throat, dry and garbled.

He finally turned his head, his expression so bland it sent a chill deeper than any sedation could reach. “Keep quiet.”

She couldn’t form a sentence, but her mind was starting to come back to life, her thoughts stringing together once more.

In the minutes that followed, she tried to picture Navy’s face. The way she giggled when Auntie Willow kissed her belly. The chubby arms flailing in delight when Denver walked into the room. The way she’d just started pulling herself up, standing proud and strong.

She was going to miss her first steps.

Tears streaked down her face.

Would she ever see them again?

Would Denver come?