Page 7 of Be Courageous

Moving stealthily, he released his seat belt. It came apart with the barest of clicks, covered up by their sudden lurch in and out of a rut. Keeping the strap pinned under his right arm, he placed his left elbow on the door’s armrest. The man’s eyes rose to the rearview mirror, and Grayson froze. A cold sweat filmed his upper lip.

I’m seriously being kidnapped.He gripped the phone hidden beneath his leg.

When Brian looked back at the road, Grayson assessed their speed. He would jump first, then call 911 as he was running away. Once he heard a voice on the other end, he wouldn’t be so scared. Luckily, Brian was driving slowly, but Grayson would still need to push off to avoid getting run over.

He summoned his courage as Brian drove over a fallen branch.

Now!

Grayson jerked the door handle with his free hand, but the door was locked. Brian heard him and braked hard. Throwing up his hands to keep his face from hitting the seat in front of him, he dropped his cell phone, which tumbled to the floor of the car. He kicked it under the driver’s seat as the car stopped moving forward.

His door came unlocked with a loud click, but there was no point in jumping out now because Brian was already there, wrenching Grayson’s door open. Grayson dived across the back seat, hoping to escape out the other side, but the man caught the back of his belt and dragged him closer. As his legs came out of the car, Grayson glimpsed his cell phone, hidden deep under Brian’s seat.

“I should’ve known you’d give me a hard time.”

Brian pulled him out of the car. He wasn’t on his feet one second before the man shoved him facedown over the trunk while pulling his hands behind his back. Grayson kicked and squirmed, but he was no match for the bigger man. In seconds, his wrists were bound together with a zip tie.

Breathing hard, Brian jerked Grayson upright before popping open the trunk with his remote.

“Get in, kid. You brought this on yourself.”

Grayson eyed the dank trunk with its stained and trash-littered carpeting. “No. Please, I’ll be good. I won’t try to escape again.”

A heavy hand on the back of his head forced him to bend over. At the same time, Brian hoisted him by the back of his pants, causing him to fall forward. He tucked his chin to protect his face and rolled onto a shoulder, which took the weight off his legs. Brian promptly heaved him the rest of the way in. As Grayson went to kick him, his captor slammed the trunk closed.

Wake up. Wake up.But this was too real to be a dream. He’d been crammed into a cold, dark trunk with his hands trapped uselessly behind his back. Gasping for air Grayson tried to subdue the panic rising up in him.

“Mom!”

Of course, she couldn’t hear him. As far as she was concerned, he was at school by now. It would take hours for her to realize he was missing. His only consolation was that his cell phone—providing his captor didn’t find it first and toss it somewhere—would tell his mother where to start looking for him.

* * *

Faith, bundled up in a long brown coat, wearing gloves and a hat, wondered if her client, a forty-year-old veteran who’d been inside a jeep in Afghanistan when it rolled over a mine, was warm enough, but she didn’t want to break his concentration to ask him.

Mark had been riddled with shrapnel during his final tour, and some of it was still in his body. In subsequent months and years, pain had caused him to lose much of his muscle tone. On their first session at Back in the Saddle hippotherapy ranch, it was all he could do to keep his balance. For that reason, Faith had put him on their smallest mare, only fourteen hands high, but today, on Mark’s fifth session, he was riding Blossom with so much confidence that Faith had let him hold the reins.

“You’re doing great.” She smiled up at him, proud of his accomplishment.

As she spoke, the cell phone in her pocket buzzed, drawing Mark’s attention and causing him to wobble in the saddle. “Keep your eyes forward,” she reminded him while ignoring the call. If the man lost his balance, she would be hard-pressed to catch him.

It was Fitz who’d pointed out that she’d get squished if she had to catch any falling patients. Faith’s heart gave an ache at the memory of his teasing. The suspicion that he would never be part of her life again hollowed her out. If he meant to return one day, he would answer her texts, which he did not.

Mark clicked his tongue, prodding Blossom into a faster walk—not quite a trot as Blossom could tell he wasn’t ready.

Faith picked up her pace. “Not too fast.”

“It’s easier at this speed.”

Not for Faith, it wasn’t. But this was how she got her exercise, walking and sometimes running dozens of times around the riding ring four days a week. As they performed their second circuit, her phone vibrated again in her pocket. A moment later, it chimed, telling her the caller had left a message.

She was out of breath by the time Mark’s therapy session ended. In their reflection following his ride, she asked him whether he had noticed his improvement.

“Absolutely.” Mark’s cheeks were still ruddy from the cold. He rubbed his hands together as he sat across the desk from her. “I used to get fatigued just walking from my bedroom to the kitchen. You have literally brought me back to life, Faith.”

His gratitude warmed her. “Well, thank you, but it’s really Blossom who’s done the work. I’m just there to catch you if you fall.” Fitz would have said something like that. How she missed his droll remarks!

Mark laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners the same way Fitz’s eyes did. “I like you.”

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