With her wrists bound in front of her, and her back against the side of the moving wagon, Keelan worked harder to wiggle her hands out of the ropes. The men hadn’t searched her as they had Ronnie. Using the short, thick blade hidden in her waistband, she’d spent the past several minutes sawing through her bindings. Every bump and jolt rattled her frame and jarred her bones. Twice her blade slipped and sliced her skin. Thankfully, Ronnie somewhat blocked her activity from view. She could barely make out his face in the diminishing light. His panicked stare met hers and she wanted so badly to reassure him with a smile or a steady look, but the best she could do was a stoic glare and nod. “Stay strong, Ronan,” she whispered, using his given name. She couldn’t bring herself to make promises sh
