basketball game held his attention.
Sawyer rolled his eyes and plucked a few more notes that sounded vaguely familiar. I wasn’t surprised that he did it without even looking. He’d just played a song he’d never heard before based on my off key humming and a little direction. How was that even possible?
“Where’d you learn to play?”
“Taught myself.” He shrugged as though that wasn’t more impressive than anything I’d done with my entire life up to that point. “Mostly by listening to the radio.”
Smoke prowled up my chest to head-butt the underside of my chin, unhappy that my attention was focused elsewhere. I scratched his back and he settled down.
“You’re talented.” So what if my praise was entirely self-serving? It was also the truth.
“I don’t—”
The scraping sound I’d come to associate with the stable door opening cut him off and Smoke’s ears perked up.
“Did you bring a friend?” I rubbed his furry head, but he continued to point his narrowed eyes at the stall door. “Maybe we can find you something to—”
“Franky!”
Sawyer surged to his feet, the guitar making a hollow clanging sound when it hit the ground.
“Sawyer? You boys in here?” the old voice warbled.
Holy crap. My heart slammed against my breast bone and I jumped to my feet without thinking. Of the million and one contingency plans I’d considered and discarded since my arrival, not one of them had included someone accidentally finding me.
What would happen if he saw me? Would he turn out to be my savior? Or was he the match that I’d been trying to avoid? What should I do? Should I bite my tongue and hope he leaves without making things worse? Should I scream and yell? Had the time come to fight back? Those and a million thoughts just like them floated through my head in a split second.
Frank took my options down to none when his meaty hand closed over my mouth from behind, hauling me back into his big body. Smoke hissed at my feet as I pried at his fingers, but he used his free arm to trap mine in front of me in a mock impression of a backward bear hug.
“Relax,” Sawyer whispered, slowly lifting his hands, palms facing the two of us. “I’ll get rid of him. Everybody just stay calm. And don’t do anything stupid.”
His sharp gaze collided with mine for that last bit before he stepped out of the stall.
“Oh, Sawyer, there you are. Is Franky here, too?”
“He . . . uh . . .” Sawyer muttered and Frank stiffened. “Frank ran into town to pick up some supplies. Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Willingston?”
“Well, now . . . I know you boys are busy. And I wasn’t plannin’ to bother you, honest. But the old tractor’s been givin’ me trouble for some time and this mornin’ she up and refused to start on me. I know what’s ailing the old girl and I got the parts to fix her. It’s just . . . these old hands . . . they don’t work quite as well as they used to.”
“I see,” Sawyer hedged.
Anxiety and adrenaline combined in a nauseating mix. My pulse quickened and my breathing turned shallow. Don’t do anything stupid . What could be more stupid than not taking my one chance at freedom?
“It won’t take long if ya wouldn’t mind helpin’ an old man out.”
“I would, Mr. Willingston. It’s just that—”
I shut my eyes, said a silent prayer that I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life, and sank my teeth into Frank’s hand.
Dirt and the faint tang of oil coated my tongue. He grunted and tore his flesh from my mouth. I sucked air, prepared to scream bloody murder . . . And then I hit the ground. I hadn’t even felt myself falling before the wind was knocked out of me and Frank’s substantial weight was pressing me into the floorboards.
“Oh my. What was—?”
“You know what?” Sawyer spoke loudly, concealing the slight sounds we made as Frank and I scrabbled. It didn’t last long. Before I could say a word, he trapped my wrists,
Sawyer rolled his eyes and plucked a few more notes that sounded vaguely familiar. I wasn’t surprised that he did it without even looking. He’d just played a song he’d never heard before based on my off key humming and a little direction. How was that even possible?
“Where’d you learn to play?”
“Taught myself.” He shrugged as though that wasn’t more impressive than anything I’d done with my entire life up to that point. “Mostly by listening to the radio.”
Smoke prowled up my chest to head-butt the underside of my chin, unhappy that my attention was focused elsewhere. I scratched his back and he settled down.
“You’re talented.” So what if my praise was entirely self-serving? It was also the truth.
“I don’t—”
The scraping sound I’d come to associate with the stable door opening cut him off and Smoke’s ears perked up.
“Did you bring a friend?” I rubbed his furry head, but he continued to point his narrowed eyes at the stall door. “Maybe we can find you something to—”
“Franky!”
Sawyer surged to his feet, the guitar making a hollow clanging sound when it hit the ground.
“Sawyer? You boys in here?” the old voice warbled.
Holy crap. My heart slammed against my breast bone and I jumped to my feet without thinking. Of the million and one contingency plans I’d considered and discarded since my arrival, not one of them had included someone accidentally finding me.
What would happen if he saw me? Would he turn out to be my savior? Or was he the match that I’d been trying to avoid? What should I do? Should I bite my tongue and hope he leaves without making things worse? Should I scream and yell? Had the time come to fight back? Those and a million thoughts just like them floated through my head in a split second.
Frank took my options down to none when his meaty hand closed over my mouth from behind, hauling me back into his big body. Smoke hissed at my feet as I pried at his fingers, but he used his free arm to trap mine in front of me in a mock impression of a backward bear hug.
“Relax,” Sawyer whispered, slowly lifting his hands, palms facing the two of us. “I’ll get rid of him. Everybody just stay calm. And don’t do anything stupid.”
His sharp gaze collided with mine for that last bit before he stepped out of the stall.
“Oh, Sawyer, there you are. Is Franky here, too?”
“He . . . uh . . .” Sawyer muttered and Frank stiffened. “Frank ran into town to pick up some supplies. Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Willingston?”
“Well, now . . . I know you boys are busy. And I wasn’t plannin’ to bother you, honest. But the old tractor’s been givin’ me trouble for some time and this mornin’ she up and refused to start on me. I know what’s ailing the old girl and I got the parts to fix her. It’s just . . . these old hands . . . they don’t work quite as well as they used to.”
“I see,” Sawyer hedged.
Anxiety and adrenaline combined in a nauseating mix. My pulse quickened and my breathing turned shallow. Don’t do anything stupid . What could be more stupid than not taking my one chance at freedom?
“It won’t take long if ya wouldn’t mind helpin’ an old man out.”
“I would, Mr. Willingston. It’s just that—”
I shut my eyes, said a silent prayer that I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life, and sank my teeth into Frank’s hand.
Dirt and the faint tang of oil coated my tongue. He grunted and tore his flesh from my mouth. I sucked air, prepared to scream bloody murder . . . And then I hit the ground. I hadn’t even felt myself falling before the wind was knocked out of me and Frank’s substantial weight was pressing me into the floorboards.
“Oh my. What was—?”
“You know what?” Sawyer spoke loudly, concealing the slight sounds we made as Frank and I scrabbled. It didn’t last long. Before I could say a word, he trapped my wrists,
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