“It seems like only yesterday you were the age of my grandson,” he said. “Your mother would always bring you along when she came to my home to visit.”
Dana smiled, straightening up her desk, then looking around the room one more time to make sure everything was in order. “I liked going to visit you,” she said, remembering how self-conscious she’d been back then. Unlike her, Nancy Seles had been a free spirit who’d thrived on chaos. Nothing had ever been routine at home. “But I hated some of the other places she took me.”
“I never approved of her bringing you along to those backroom card games, you know. I told her more than once. But your incredible memory was too much of a temptation, especially when your mom was falling on hard times.”
Dana sighed softly. From the day Nancy Seles had discovered that her own daughter had a photographic memory, things had gone totally crazy-and that was saying a lot, since their lives had never been anything even remotely close to normal. “We’d only stay until she’d won enough hands to pay for the rent or groceries, then leave,” Dana said, surprised to hear herself defending her mother.
“She wasn’t always like that,” Hastiin Sani said. “She changed after your father’s death. She’d depended completely on him and when he wasn’t around anymore, she fell apart.”
“I was too young when my dad passed away to remember much about him. What I know is mostly from stories I’ve heard-that he was a good cop, and would never have allowed Mom to raise me the way she did,” she said, and shrugged. “But all that’s ancient history.”
Dana picked up her tote bag, then joined him by the door. “Are you sure you won’t let me give you a ride home? I’d be more than happy to do that.”
“No, it’s not necessary. A friend drove me here, and another will swing by shortly to pick me up.”
Hastiin Sani knew almost everyone on the reservation. Although calling him by his Navajo name, “Old Man,” might have seemed disrespectful in some cultures, here on the rez, it was the opposite. She looked at him fondly. He was almost like family. She remembered her mother telling her not to be taken in by his easygoing personality, that Hastiin Sani was far more than he appeared to be… Then again, her mother had never had a firm grip on reality.
Dana locked the door behind them, then walked with Hastiin Sani down the hall and out the side door of the building. All the students and most of the teachers were gone now, so the parking lot was nearly empty.
“I wish I could have done more to help you and your mother,” he said softly, falling into step beside her.
She stopped and met his gaze. “You did more than you realize. The art patrons you sent us put food on our table more often than not.”
He smiled and nodded. “I have always been your friend. I’m very proud of you, did you know that?”
Dana stared at her shoes, and cleared her throat. She’d never really known how to take compliments.
“Here’s my ride now,” he said, pointing with his lips, Navajo style.
She saw the shiny blue pickup pull up just beyond her own white VW bug. A second later, a long-legged, tall and lean Navajo man stepped down off the running board. Some men were made to wear jeans, and the way this man fit into his would have made any sane woman drool.
His dark eyes fastened on her as he walked toward them with long strides that spoke of confidence and purpose. She nearly sighed as she watched him, but she caught herself in time and quickly pretended to cough.
Hastiin Sani smiled at her. “His Anglo name is Ranger, Ranger Blueeyes. Stay and meet him.”
“Er, no, I really should be going.” She’d worked hard to have a sane life, one without complications. Though her experience with men was extremely limited, she knew one thing. A man who looked and walked like Ranger Blueeyes was serious trouble.
She and Hastiin Sani were walking by an old van when Ranger joined them. He had a smile that could melt hearts, she decided on the spot.
Ranger nodded to her companion, then turned back to her. “Hello,” he said.
She smiled and was about to respond when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Two men had raised up from the open windows of the van, not six feet away, aiming something in their direction. A heartbeat later she heard two dull thuds, and felt something like a bee stinging her neck.
“Ow!” Dana reached up and pulled out the odd object imbedded in her skin. As she stared at the small dart in confusion, the world started spinning. Her legs were suddenly so weak she could barely stand. Though her vision became blurry, she saw that Hastiin Sani had also been hit and had collapsed to his knees. Before she could help him, two men came out from behind the van and grabbed him by the arms.
Kidnappers, she realized. Though disoriented, Dana fought back hard, kicking at the men who were taking her friend. She clawed at the face of the one who had Hastiin Sani, and heard him spit out an oath as her nails raked across his cheek. His voice seemed miles and miles away.
Ahead of her she could see Ranger, the man who’d come to pick up Hastiin Sani. He was still on his feet and fighting hard, making her wonder if he’d somehow managed to avoid the darts. As she watched, he kicked one man in the chest, bouncing him off the side of the van. Then two more men rushed forward, tackling Ranger to the pavement.
There were just too many…and it was all becoming confusing. Through the fog clouding her brain, she felt someone pulling her roughly into the van, which was open at the side.
In one last desperate attempt to help Hastiin Sani, she turned her head and attacked the man holding her. He yelped as she bit him on the forearm. Then someone hit her from behind, and everything faded to black.
DANA WOKE UP lying on her back, with a pounding headache. Her arms hurt, and she slowly realized it was because her hands had been tied behind her back, and she was lying on them. Her mouth felt cottony, and her body ached everywhere.
As her thoughts cleared, she began to remember, and her heart began to pound frantically. She looked around and tried to get her bearings. She was in a small room, but it was almost too dark to see much of anything. The only illumination came from the gap at the bottom of the only door.
She heard faint grunts and thumps coming from the other room. Dana’s stomach sank when she realized she was hearing the sound of fists striking flesh. As her eyes got used to the gloom, she discovered she was alone in a small room with wide plank walls and two boarded-up windows. There was no ceiling, just the rafters and a steeply sloped roof. It was probably a mountain cabin, judging from the construction.
Mercifully, the beating taking place in the other room stopped. A minute went by, then she heard Hastiin Sani’s voice. His speech was slow and thick, as if the drug from the dart was still in his system. Or perhaps he’d been given something else. The medicine man was reciting names she didn’t recognize. After a few minutes, his voice drifted off. Her heart almost stopped as she heard the sound of fists on flesh again but, this time, they stopped quickly. Shortly afterward, Hastiin Sani began reciting a litany of names again.
Dana swallowed the bitterness that touched the back of her throat. She knew Hastiin Sani was in the other room, but what about his brave friend who’d fought so hard-Ranger Blueeyes? Was he dead? The possibility made her start trembling.
Dana took a deep unsteady breath. She needed a plan. But, first, she needed to free herself. Trying to ignore the way the tough fibers bit into her wrists, she pulled, then relaxed in a persistent cycle as she attempted to create some slack in the rope.
It was tedious, painful work but she gained ground slowly. Suddenly the door burst open. Hastiin Sani was thrown into the room and landed hard, facedown, on the floor five feet away from her.