Raven's Prey

job.”
    “Now that we understand each other,” he said smoothly, “let’s get ready for bed, shall we? You don’t have to look at me like that, you know. I’ll be sleeping on the floor. That lumpy mattress doesn’t look much more comfortable than these boards, anyway. You’re welcome to it.”
    Honor stood still beside the window, watching as Judd methodically confiscated a couple of the worn blankets and spread them out on the floor. When he’d finished he glanced up, examining her tense face. “I have to get a couple of things out of the plane. You’d better come with me.” He turned abruptly toward the door and opened it. When she made no move to follow he glanced back and said laconically, “I know there’s nowhere you can run in this village. I’m aware of the fact that you left your car back in the States and that you traveled through Mexico on buses. You probably can’t get into too much trouble in the ten minutes it’s going to take me to get my things from the plane, but just the same I’ll feel more comfortable if you’re with me. I wouldn’t want to return to find you’ve made another half-hearted attempt on your wrists.”
    Honor went white. “Damn you!” she whispered savagely.
    “Come here, Honor,” he ordered quietly. “Don’t make me drag you through the streets to the plane and back.”
    It was a small thing, this business of ordering her to cross the room and accompany him, but Honor sensed immediately that he was doing it deliberately. Judd was establishing the rules, making it clear that he was in charge. He probably thought that if he took a firm enough position she would simply give up and stop fighting him. As far as he was concerned she was a spoiled brat who happened to be nearly thirty. Spoiled brats were traditionally best handled by a dose of discipline.
    Didn’t he realize that when you were fighting for your life you didn’t play by anyone else’s rules?
    Still, this was not the time to go into battle. Common sense dictated that she give an appearance, at least, of resigning herself to her lot. Honor’s sensitive mouth tightened ominously but she silently crossed the room.
    “That’s better,” Judd approved, opening the door. “Behave yourself and we’ll get along just fine.”
    Perhaps, Honor decided objectively, it wouldn’t be so difficult using the gun on him later! The man had it coming.
    The Cessna 185/Skywagon was perched in the desert on the side of the dirt road into town. In the moonlight Honor could see the high wings and the old-fashioned tailwheel. It was painted a light color, difficult to discern in the shadows. She hated it on sight. Up until now there had been a pleasant feeling of isolation and remoteness about the small Mexican village. There were few cars in town and only a weekly bus. The plane removed that sensation of being out of touch with civilization. Once on board the Cessna she would be lost.
    Judd opened the cabin door on the pilot’s side and reached into the cockpit to remove a small, weather-beaten overnight bag. Honor watched in silence as he checked the inside of the cabin and then she waited a few more minutes while he verified that the wheels were firmly chocked. She watched his hand linger for another few seconds on the tail as he gave a last assessing glance at the preparations he had made, and suddenly Honor realized that he must have already checked out the plane for the night. The current attention was probably wholly unnecessary. But there was something in the way he touched the metal and eyed the wheels that annoyed her in a way she couldn’t quite explain.
    “Is that plane the only thing you care about? You act as if you’re tucking it in for the night!” she muttered disgustedly.
    ‘The plane and I have an understanding,” he told her dryly. “I take care of it and it takes care of me. As a companion it has definite virtues. No tantrums, no back talk, no arguments.”
    “How dull for you!” Honor spun around on her heel, plunged her hands disconsolately into the back pockets of her jeans and started back along the road into town.
    “I suppose it would seem a little dull to you,” Judd allowed quietly. He paced beside her with that long, flowing stride of his, which was coming to remind her of a lazily circling bird of prey. “After all, you apparently thrive on causing scenes and creating chaos. I prefer a quieter sort of life.”
    “Ferrying planes around the globe is a quiet life?” she