Книга - Flying Home

Flying Home
Mary Anne Wilson


Home is where the heart is Dr. Merry Brenner needs to get home–she's promised the kids at her children's center. So it seems like fate that she runs into fellow Wolf Lake native and small-plane pilot Gage Carson in the middle of the crowded airport. Until their plane goes down, leaving them stranded!When help arrives, Merry's relief is mixed with dread. The bond the pair formed has left her wanting more. As someone who wants to put down roots, Merry knows a nomad like Gage is the last person she should fall for. Only now she's certain the home she's always wanted includes Gage…but will he stay?







Home is where the heart is

Dr. Merry Brenner needs to get home—she’s promised the kids at her children’s center. So it seems like fate that she runs into fellow Wolf Lake native and small-plane pilot Gage Carson in the middle of the crowded airport. Until their plane goes down, leaving them stranded!

When help arrives, Merry’s relief is mixed with dread. The bond the pair formed has left her wanting more. As someone who wants to put down roots, Merry knows a nomad like Gage is the last person she should fall for. Only now she’s certain the home she’s always wanted includes Gage…but will he stay?


Merry quietly raised herself to look down on Gage, asleep, then lowered her head to kiss his parted lips.

Having to lie so close to him in the plane’s cabin, she felt the heat of his breath, felt his heartbeat under her palm. With one last glance at the sleeping man, she admitted that if things had been different, if the world had been normal when they’d met, there could be more between them.

She stopped that foolishness in its tracks. No, not with him. There could never be anything other than friendship, no matter what she felt. Once they were rescued, he’d leave Wolf Lake and she’d stay. Simple. And this would merely be a memory.

But for now, they were here, together, and she’d hold on to him until it was time for her to let go.


Dear Reader (#uaa311d64-ef96-5282-bb1a-092a79ebe1e1),

The popular wisdom is “You can’t go home again.” Sometimes your heart takes you where your heart needs to be. In Flying Home, Gage Carson, the youngest of the Carson brothers of Wolf Lake, thinks he’s going home for a short visit to help his family, but doesn’t know the trip is going to be the most important one of his life.

Merry Brenner needs to get back to Wolf Lake, and even though she returned to the town alone, it’s home—and the only way to get there this time is on Gage’s company plane. Gage and Merry are unaware that an unseen detour looms in their path, which they’ll have to take before they are finally home…in Wolf Lake and in their hearts….

I hope you enjoy their journey where they find out you can not only go home, but you can find a love that will make “going home” complete and perfect.

Best wishes,

Mary Anne Wilson


Flying Home

Mary Anne Wilson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


MARY ANNE WILSON

is a Canadian transplanted to Southern California, where she lives with her husband, three children and an assortment of animals. She knew she wanted to write romances when she found herself rewriting the great stories in literature, such as A Tale of Two Cities, to give them happy endings. Over her long career she’s published more than thirty romances, had her books on bestseller lists, been nominated for Reviewer’s Choice Awards and received a career nomination in romantic suspense.


For Linda Wisdom, BFF who was there at the beginning and stuck around for the ride!

Thanks for everything.


Contents

Dear Reader (#ud11b78ec-6560-59c0-992a-7d89b8a341ea)

CHAPTER ONE (#u9c2d56cb-ffe2-5dde-830b-b0549c78ff40)

CHAPTER TWO (#ua00d792b-4567-5dfe-8314-b73509e191bb)

CHAPTER THREE (#ud27d8414-b6d4-5137-bdae-b872127de115)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ue123804a-8e28-5d1e-9cfb-3f8408157210)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE

HOME.

All Merry Brenner wanted to do was get home, but with a sinking heart, she realized that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. In skinny jeans, suede boots, an oversized red sweater, and her hands full with her meager luggage and purse, she stood off to one side of the crowded customer service desk at the airport.

Even though she’d flown all over the world with her mother and stepfather, who was an officer in the Air Force, she hated flying. She was a white knuckle flier at best, and after the rough unscheduled landing in Pueblo, Colorado, due to a “situation,” she was totally on edge.

Right now, she should be collecting her baggage at the carrousel in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where she thought she’d end her trip. Instead here she was, staring at the four attendants at the long counter giving every displaced passenger the same company line. “We do apologize for this inconvenience.” No mention of cars sitting in long term parking lots that were not going to be picked up, or loved ones waiting for them on the other end.

“Unfortunately, due to mechanical problems with your original plane, we have had to downsize to a smaller carrier.” That really meant, “You’re out of luck, unless you’re one of the chosen few who’d managed to finagle a seat on that alternate carrier.” Followed by what the company probably thought was a generous offer. “Of course, you can be put on standby for the other flights out to Santa Fe.”

There were two, and both had filled up immediately by displaced passengers. “Or there is a flight departing for Santa Fe...” Her hopes had risen when she’d heard that. “...at eight-fifty-two tomorrow with a five hour stopover in Denver.” Just where she didn’t want to be. “Arrival time in Santa Fe at seven-thirty tomorrow evening.”

Merry had put her name on all the lists, but still refused to accept the fact that there was no feasible way to get out of here tonight. Turning away in a huff, she didn’t bother to stick around to listen to their very generous offer of, “Admittance to the flight lounge that has WiFi, along with a complimentary voucher for a meal at the only restaurant in the terminal, and a coupon for fifty percent off your next flight anywhere in the contiguous states.”

She lugged her things toward a row of hard plastic chairs that overlooked the runways, and dropped everything at her feet. Then she sank down into the nearest chair and forced herself to stay calm.

All she had to do was get to Wolf Lake, New Mexico, a small town where tourists migrated to in the summer. In the winter it was a stop off for skiers before they headed farther north to the popular resorts higher in the mountains.

It was her home. It was where she’d moved six months ago, coming back after twenty years to settle there, to start a new job. Landing that position at The Family Center, to aid in the development of children who needed the help and guidance of a trained psychologist, had seemed like a dream come true for her. Because the truth was, she’d wanted to return to Wolf Lake from the moment her mother and stepfather had spirited her off to the first of many military posts they would relocate to over the years. Now she was back, or had been back, until she’d gone out of town for that three-day child development seminar in Chicago.

Swiping an errant strand of auburn hair off her cheek, she stared straight ahead on the concourse, barely noticing the people milling about in search of their flights. She was sitting still, but her mind was going a mile a minute trying to think of any way to get out of Pueblo and on her way back home. She’d already checked the car rentals, which had none available, and even asked at the charter counter, but immediately gave up that idea when she heard what it would cost. It was far beyond anything she could manage on the modest salary she earned from The Family Center.

The kids. She shook her head. They’d never understand that she’d broken her promise. Never. She’d told them she was going away to a conference for a few days, and that had been a bit upsetting for most of them. However, for Erin, a six-year-old girl, who was so small she could have passed for four years old, it had hit hardest. The child had stared at her intently, then thrown her arms around Merry’s legs and hugged Merry so tightly that it was almost painful.

Erin was alone in the world, her mother dead, her father serving a life term in prison. The girl with a wild mass of brilliant red curls, and pale, freckled skin, seldom talked. And she hadn’t uttered a word then, just moaned softly until Merry had settled her down. The promise she’d made to all the children, she made again to Erin privately. “Three days and nights, then I promise I’ll be back before you have to leave with Mrs. Harper.”

Maybe the child heard the honest intent of those words and trusted her, or maybe she just gave up. But either way, that promise would mean nothing now, not unless Merry could make good on it. The urgency in her to get home grew stronger and drove her to her feet.. Her kids, including Erin, didn’t understand excuses. She couldn’t afford to let them down. Her kids had special needs in varying degrees, but their foremost need was being able to depend on people close to them.

Merri looked around, frustrated, but still not giving up. She was proactive, as one of her college professors had pointed out without exactly saying that was a good thing. But she thought it was, so on impulse, canvased the other passengers stuck in the terminal in an attempt to see if she could secure one of their seats if they weren’t in a hurry. But, once again, she hit a brick wall. It seemed everyone diverted here wanted to get out as soon as possible. She looked around the main terminal, at the throngs of passengers going in and out of the souvenir and snack shops, checking out kiosks and generally killing time until the boarding call for their flights came over the PA system.

Merry was part of that same crowd, but unfortunately, she was not going to get any announcement in her favor anytime soon. Pacing restlessly around the concourse, she wound up back at the service desk for the airline again. Thankfully, most of the other passengers had been dealt with, and there were only a handful of people near the counters now.

“One more time,” she muttered to herself as she headed to the end of a line fronted by an anxious-looking young man, followed by an elderly couple. The young man abruptly pushed away from the counter, calling back over his shoulder, “Thanks for nothing,” as he stomped off. The couple moved to the desk, leaving Merry alone in the line. The gentleman spoke quietly to the agent, his tone polite, but his words indistinguishable. The elderly lady suddenly raised her voice to say, “But we have to get a flight out of here now!” Her voice took on a soft, plaintive whine as she turned toward the man beside her. “Ashford, tell this lady we have to get back to Los Angeles.”

The gentleman nodded, dropping an arm around his companion’s shoulders, and he spoke to the agent again in a louder voice. “Madam, this is not acceptable. We have opera tickets that are impossible to procure, and now you’re telling me that there will be two empty seats in the hall this evening! Unacceptable, totally unacceptable.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Who is your supervisor?”

“Andrew Davison,” the agent said, and directed them to his office before adding, “I hope Mr. Davison can do something to help you.”

With a shake of his head, the gentleman walked off with his lady, and the path was finally clear for Merry to get to the desk. Hi,” she said, hating the tightness in her voice as she forced a jittery smile at the agent whose name tag read Alice Z. “I need to get home, and arriving there tomorrow evening isn’t an option.”

April Z, a stunningly attractive blonde, looked a bit frayed from dealing with all those displaced passengers, but that polite smile remained. “I’m so sorry, but there are no open seats on the flights out to Los Angeles right now.”

Merry stopped her. “I’m trying to get to Santa Fe. My original plane was going to go on to L.A., but I was getting off in Santa Fe.”

“Oh,” the woman said, but that information didn’t change her demeanor one bit. “I can put you on standby for a flight to Santa Fe if you like? Or do you have a medical emergency, family crisis, or any other compelling reason that you have to be on a flight now?”

Alice Z. looked at her expectantly, but Merry knew that no one would think that her reason for needing to get home would be compelling to anyone except her. “Um...no, nothing like that.”

With what looked like real disappointment, the pretty blonde turned to the nearest computer screen, tapped it with a slender finger, then said, “Your last name?”

“Brenner.”

“Ah, yes, here you are. I can get you out on a flight out in the morning.”

“I already heard that. It goes to Denver first, then a five hour layover before it gets to Santa Fe tomorrow evening.”

“Then apparently you know what I know,” the agent said with a sigh.

“I just have to get home,” she reiterated desperately. “There has to be some way to do that and get there by tonight. It isn’t that far.”

April Z. turned back to the computer screen, taking several moments scrolling the information, then reached behind her for a swivel chair and dropped down in it before turning back in Merry’s direction. “I usually love my job,” she muttered, “but right about now...”

As her words trailed off, Merry found herself in the position of showing a degree of sympathy. “I know. You’ve done your best.”

The woman spread her hands. “This airport is not huge, and we just do not have the kind of resources that the other main airports have.” She hesitated. “Believe me, if I had any way to get you on an alternative flight or get you a rental car, I would. Or arrange a charter, even.”

“Charters are out of the question,” Merry said quickly.

“It’s pretty important you get home, isn’t it?”

“I’m supposed to be home today, by the evening at the latest. I know that’s the same song and dance that you’re hearing from all the passengers, but I’ve got a promise I need to fulfill to my kids.”

She saw April’s eyes soften slightly. “You have children?”

“Oh, no, at least, not my own. I’m a child psychologist and I’m on a grant at The Family Center in a small reservation town northeast of Santa Fe called Wolf Lake.”

“I’ve heard of it,” April said with a nod.

“The children I work with are challenged by their limitations and by their lives. I had to be at a seminar the past few days, but when I left, I promised them I would be back today before they went home.” She picked up her bags and released a heavy sigh. “I never thought about this happening, but I’ll figure this out, someway. Thanks for trying.”

“Sure, and good luck,” April Z. said, then called after her, “If I find anything at all, I’ll page you, okay?”

“Thanks,” she replied as she headed away from the counter. She felt exhausted, not to mention disgruntled that even though she’d given it her best shot, it hadn’t made a difference. Worse yet, she didn’t know what to do now, except call Dr. Moses Blackstar, who was her supervisor at the Center, and fill him in on what was going on.

Merry headed off to find a place to sit and make the call, then settled for a seat by a side window and dropped down in the thinly padded chair. Setting her luggage at her feet, she sank back and glanced out the windows as a sleek, smaller jet climbed out of sight into the gray, cloudy sky.

She almost chuckled at a crazy image that came to her of her standing on the runway, thumb out, trying to hitch a ride on one of those private jets. They had to seat eight or ten, and surely one of them would have an empty seat and be heading to the Santa Fe area. Then the humor died as she fumbled around in her purse to find her cell phone.

She called Dr. Blackstar’s number, but it was a dead end. The doctor was in an emergency surgery and his assistant was gone for the day. She left a message, briefly explaining about her delay and that she was still trying to get back. Then she called an associate at the center—Marsala O’Brian, a twenty-two-year-old intern working under the grant, too.

The girl picked up on the second ring. “Merry, are you back?”

“No, I’m not.” She described her situation, then added, “I’m trying as hard as I can to find out how to make it back there today, but so far I’ve hit nothing but brick walls.”

“What a mess, but it’s good that they landed safely, isn’t it? I mean, those planes are huge and—” She bit off her words. “Forget I said that. You’re okay and that’s what’s important.”

“But I promised the kids,” she said softly.

“And you’ll be back, just a bit later than you said. I can explain it to them, and tomorrow you can explain it to them yourself.”

That made sense, but that didn’t mean she was going to sit back and wait for tomorrow. “Thanks, Marsala. But don’t say anything to them until I know for sure if I can’t get back. I’ll call you as soon as I know, okay?”

“Yes. I’ll wait until six, when they’re being picked up. That’s just two hours. Can you get here by then?”

“Maybe not, but just wait until I call you back.”

“You got it.”

“One more thing? Could you tell Erin one on one, not with the boys around? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course I can. I’ll do it first.”

“I owe you big time,” she said, then ended the call and stood.

It was two in the afternoon, and something had to happen soon if she had any chance of getting back by this evening. She grabbed her bags and purse, then decided to make one last trek to the car rental counter at the far end of the terminal. There was still hope.

As she strode along the concourse, ignoring the gift shops and boutiques on her way, she glanced out the windows overlooking the runway. She saw another small jet taking off, glittering silver in the streaks of sunlight that cut through the gathering grayness of high clouds. She paused to watch the elegant carrier until it was out of sight, thinking that if she only had money, she could charter a plane like that. Well, maybe not like that one, but a plane that could get her home in time.

“That would take a miracle,” she breathed at the same time a man cut across the walkway directly in front of her.

She managed to sidestep any impact, but he never even noticed her, he was so intent on the call he was taking on the cell phone pressed to his ear. There was no three piece business suit on his six-foot-plus frame, but instead, he gave more of an impression of an impatient cowboy, in snug jeans, a sheared wool trimmed denim jacket and scuffed boots that were as well worn as the rest of his getup. A baseball cap was the only thing not determinedly Western about the man.

She watched him stop halfway between where she stood on the walkway and the desk for charter flights over by the windows. He tugged sharply at the dark cap worn over slightly shaggy, midnight-black hair, framing an angular clean shaven face. When someone bumped her from behind, trying to get past her, Merry moved to her right, and off the walkway to get out of the way. The maneuver brought her closer to the man she’d been watching. In fact, she was near enough to hear most of his end of the conversation.

“I’ll check with him as soon as I can.” He listened, glanced around, his dark eyes sliding right past Merry, before he exhaled. “I told you, I’m waiting for clearance.” Pausing, his attention apparently on the tiled floors underfoot now. “Nothing serious. A glitch. You know how it goes.” He checked the watch on his wrist. “Soon. They said it was almost done. Should be up in half an hour at the most.”

While he was speaking, Merry saw a security guard approach the man, then hesitate before he reached out to tap the stranger on the shoulder. At first the man kept talking. “You, too. I’ll call when I get a chance.” The guard tapped his shoulder again, and the man turned to him, but still spoke into the phone as he held up a forefinger to acknowledge the guard. “Let me know if I can help. I have to go,” he said, finishing the call. “What is it?” he asked. The guard straightened a bit before speaking.

“Are you Mr. Gage Carson?” He nodded and the guard looked relieved. “They sent me to let you know the work’s done on your ride, and you’ve been cleared to take off in the next half hour.”

Merry didn’t hear the rest of the conversation between the two men as she stared at Gage Carson. A miracle? She couldn’t believe the luck or Fate or serendipity or whatever was at work here.

Gage Carson. The man, dressed like a roughhewn working cowboy, was the adult version of a young teenager she’d known over twenty years ago in Wolf Lake. Well, she hadn’t actually known him, but she’d seen him enough around town with his two brothers, and she knew of him. Everyone knew the Carsons, and she remembered him all too well.

Now he was within ten feet of her, talking to the guard about his “ride” and “taking off soon.” To make this a true miracle, he had to be going to Wolf Lake. She knew there was an airstrip on the Carson ranch.

The guard nodded at something Gage had said before striding off into the growing crowd from a flight disembarking farther down the concourse. But her full attention was on the man who could just be her own personal savior. All she had to do was figure out the best way to talk him into helping her get back to Wolf Lake.

Suddenly, Gage Carson turned, startling her as he seemed to look right at her. But before she could raise a hand and introduce herself, his gaze skimmed right past her as if she didn’t exist. Abruptly, he made for the nearest desk for the charter businesses near the windows.

It wouldn’t be farfetched, if the man, who led one of the largest construction and architectural corporations in the country, owned one of those sleek corporate jets. Or at least, chartered one of them. Chartering made things a bit more complicated, but it was still doable. She could play on the old hometown connection and snag a ride if the plane was his, and offer to make payments to share the cost of the charter once they got back. One way or another, if he was going to Wolf Lake, she was going too.

She watched him speaking to a woman agent, so attractive that Merry wondered if beautiful women were the only type that the airport employed. The two talked, leaning toward each other across the desk, and although she could only see Gage’s back, she didn’t miss the dazzling smile on the woman’s face as he spoke to her. She was nodding, touching his arm to make a point, and then lifted her hand to break the connection and motion to the row of specialty shops on the far side of the walkway.

Merry’s stomach was in a knot as Gage retraced his steps, coming toward her, then going right past her without looking up. She had to make this happen. She’d do her best to reason with him, and even beg if she had to. She glanced back to the counter, saw the attendant was alone at the desk and boldly crossed to her. Merry made herself smile, knowing it was a mere shadow of the version the woman had offered Gage moments ago. “Can I ask you something?”

The woman looked up and nodded. “Why, of course, that’s why I’m here.”

Merry motioned behind her. “Was that Gage Carson?”

Obviously the wrong way to start the conversation. Privacy had to be one thing a moneyed business, like a luxury jet charter, offered its clientele without any question. The woman’s expression changed from warm to cautious. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh, no,” Merry said quickly. “I just hadn’t heard anything about him being back...in Wolf Lake. You see, our hometown’s so small, everyone knows everything about everybody and no one mentioned he had made a visit.”

“Maybe he hasn’t made it there yet,” the woman offered, confirming to Merry that he was heading there.

Perfect. “Maybe not,” she conceded, trying to control her growing excitement. “I just never expected to see him here, either. You know, on a charter. After all, the word is he’s got tons of money. But maybe it makes more sense to lease instead of buy. I don’t know anything about big business.”

The woman seemed a bit put off by Merry’s confession. “I wouldn’t know, but most men in his position have a company plane. He’s no different.”

His own plane! She felt like screaming, “Yes,” and pumping her fist, but instead she shrugged. “Of course.”

“You’re friends with Mr. Carson?” the woman asked, the smile all but gone now.

“I knew him since we were kids,” she said, deliberately slanting the truth toward the idea that they’d been close. Merry left without another word and carried her bags across to the store that Gage had entered.

She stepped in, and spotted him in a rear display area, looking at snow globes. He lifted one, shook it, put it back, and repeated those actions as he worked his way through about a dozen or so ornaments. She took a breath, tried to still her hammering heart, then headed toward the man.


CHAPTER TWO

“A SNOW GLOBE INSPECTOR?” Merry asked, going for the silly approach as she got within a few feet of Gage Carson. She’d save the serious begging for later, when she worked up the nerve to ask him for a ride on his plane.

The man turned at the sound of her voice, and she met the darkest brown eyes she’d ever looked into. They were narrowed on her, either from puzzlement or annoyance. She wasn’t quite sure. “Are you speaking to me?”

“I’m sorry, I saw you checking out all the snow globes and I had images of...” She shook her head, stopping mid-sentence, knowing that hokey line had run its course. “I’ve always loved snow globes.” That was the truth.

He surprised her by not dismissing her abruptly. “So does my mother, and I need a peace offering of sorts for when I see her. I missed Christmas with the family.” He glanced at the globe in his hand, and then put it back on the shelf. “The thing is, none of these seem right.”

“What does she like—angels, Norman Rockwell scenes, Winnie the Pooh?” She glanced at the American flags encased in three of the globes. “Something patriotic?”

He chuckled roughly at that and shook his head. “No, none of those seems quite right...” Merry scanned the globes and saw a smaller one sitting in a corner and reached for it. “Well, then, how about this?” She held it up to Gage after she shook it so the artificial snow was swirling around a solitary man in buckskins who stood with his head thrown back, and one hand raised to point to something he seemed to be yelling to. Then she saw the shadow on the glass, the smoky silhouette that was barely there, the suggestion of a wolf.

Gage looked at it critically, then slowly took it from her hand and studied it. “Great,” he said as he twirled it in his strong fingers. Then his dark eyes met hers again. “Thank you...” He raised an inquiring eyebrow at her in a question.

“Brenner,” she said. “Merry Brenner.”

He twirled the globe again. “Well, Merry, she’ll love this,” he murmured. Merry had seen Gage’s mother, Lark Carson, a long time ago—a tiny woman with flowing black hair, a ready smile and a real pride in her Indian heritage. As the daughter of the man whose family had given his family name, Wolf, to the town, she could imagine her being particular about the general presentation of the Native spirit, even in a snow globe. And to have a wolf suggested in it would be specific to her. “It will really suit her,” she agreed.

He glanced at her quizzically. “How would you know that?”

She blinked, realizing what she’d said. She couldn’t take it back, so she pushed on. “You are Gage Carson, aren’t you?”

He was obviously surprised. “How do you know me?” he asked, as his gaze flicked over her.

“From Wolf Lake,” she said, letting him digest that and ask his own follow up question.

And he did. “You’re from town?”

“I was, a long time ago, but then I came back for work. I remember the stories about your grandpa helping form Wolf Lake.”

He looked puzzled. “I really don’t remember any Brenners in town.”

“You wouldn’t,” she started to say, ready to tell him her birth name, but she didn’t get the chance before the guard he’d spoken to earlier, came rushing up to him.

“Sir, Mr. Carson? It’s all ready. Just pick up the papers, and head on out.”

“Thanks,” Gage said, and when the guard left, he looked back at Merry as he held up the globe. “Thanks for your input.”

“Sure, no problem,” she barely got the words out before he was on route to pay for the globe before ducking out of the store with the guard. Without a backward glance, he crossed the walkway and veered away from the charter service desk with the blonde still behind it.

Merry could have kicked herself. Talk about handling the situation all wrong! She should have just walked up to him, introduced herself, and immediately asked for a ride on his plane. “Should have, could have, would have, but didn’t,” she muttered, angry with herself as she quickly rushed after him.

Dragging her bag after her with one hand, the duffel in the other, she frantically tried to catch up to him as he cut diagonally across the seating area. His long stride was eating up the distance as he darted toward a side door marked “Private,” where another guard stood.

When he stopped to show identification to the security guard, Merry called out, “Mr. Carson...Mr. Carson!”

He frowned as she sprinted toward him, stopping within a few feet of him. She let the duffel and suitcase drop by her feet. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, breathless from the exertion. “I don’t mean to bother you, I really don’t,” she said. “But I need to ask you something, and you got away too fast in the store.”

He didn’t bother hiding his impatience as he looked pointedly at his watch, then back to her. “What is it?”

Mary filled him in on her predicament. She spoke in a rush of words, trying to get everything in before he up and left. “I can’t get out until tomorrow sometime, and that’s not acceptable because I’m needed back in Wolf Lake now.”

He hadn’t moved while she spoke, and she barely paused to take a breath before going on. “Since you’re on your way there, and you’ve got your own plane, I was wondering if I could hitch a ride with you back home?”

His intent gaze didn’t change for a long moment; he shattered her hopes with a shake of his head. “No, I can’t do that, and I’m in a hurry.”

“Why not?” she asked before he could disappear through the door the guard had just pushed open for him.

“It’s a company plane.” He held up one hand, palm toward her when she started to protest. “The rules are, no one gets on board who isn’t an employee or connected to the company in some manner. Sorry. Now I have to go.”

Merry swallowed hard. She should have simply told him she was Merry Casey back in the day, that her dad had worked on his parents’ ranch, fencing and running cattle. But she hadn’t, and he’d made up his mind. But she refused to give up. “Mr. Carson,” she began, but he cut her off again.

“No,” he said as he slipped off his ball cap, smoothed back his thick dark hair with one hand then tugged it back on with a sharp jerk of the bill. The action served to shadow his eyes even more. “Rules are rules. Now, I really have to go.”

Panic stricken, one last-ditch idea came to Merry—something that, if he agreed to it, wouldn’t break any rules.

“Mr. Cason, please listen for one minute?”

“This is not open for discussion.”

“I know, but I also know you’re the head of your own company, so the plane is technically yours... And since you’re the one who makes the rules, I think you could make an exception to break those rules just this one time for a neighbor.”

He countered that with, “It’s an insurance thing.”

“You said you take clients up in your plane?”

“Of course I do, when it’s called for,” he admitted, “but—”

She cut him off by reaching in her pocket and pulling out her small wallet. She took all of the bills she had left from her trip, just over a hundred dollars, and held it out to him. “Please, I want you to do some work for me. I’m hiring you, right now, right here, so then I’ll be your client.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said roughly.

“I want you to design and make a bulletin board for me with ‘Kids Are Cool” at the top of the frame.” She plowed on. “Four feet by four feet, a perfect square and painted in primary colors, nothing too cute or sweet. Just bright and beautiful.”

His harsh expression eased a bit, and that seemed to soften the angular features of his tanned face. Even his eyes seemed a bit less intense. But he didn’t take the money. “I don’t do bulletin boards, only the buildings they hang in.”

She stared at her hand, which was still thrusting the money toward him, and hated the unsteadiness that was starting to show. “It’s a specialty job. I know you do them. A doctor at the hospital said you did one for him when the expansion was completed a few years ago. He brags about it, in fact—he said it was an add-on for the Radiology department.”

“What doctor?”

“Dr. Moses Blackstar.”

“He told you about me?”

She smiled at that. “Yes, he has. That work you did at the hospital is his favorite subject when it comes to you.”

“So you’re friends?”

“I’m on a government grant to The Family Center. I address the emotional and mental needs of challenged children, and he does the physical concerns. He’s basically overseeing the grant, and that means the doctor and I work together a lot.”

Gage cocked his head slightly to one side as if affording himself a better view of this crazy woman trying to hitch a ride with him. “I won’t even ask what’s in Wolf Lake that can’t wait a day, because I need to get in the air myself, and if you’re a friend of Moses’s, then I’ll take that as a recommendation.”

He took the money out of her hand, his heat brushing her skin for a second before he pushed the money in the pocket of his denim jacket. “Just let me know when you need the bulletin board by.”

She drew back quickly, slightly light-headed with the massive relief she was experiencing at his sudden agreement. “Remember, all primary colors,” she said a bit breathlessly as she pushed her now empty wallet back into her purse. When she looked up, he was already going through the open door and into the corridor.

“Come on. I can’t waste any more time,” he called back over his shoulder without looking, obviously certain she was following in his wake. And of course she was. She wasn’t about to let him out of her sight now. She got her bags, and took off down the metal tunnel that echoed with each footstep she took.

At the bend, she turned, and almost rammed into Gage’s back when he slowed to flat-hand a swinging door open to expose the cold gray day and a stretch of tarmac. As she stepped out, feeling the frigid air whip against her face, and gasping for breath, Gage stopped and swung back around. “Give me that,” he said without preamble, and grabbed her suitcase, then turned and kept going. Merry was tall and her legs long enough to keep stride with most men, but Gage was not only long legged, he was a very fast walker.

She caught up to him again at the door to a flat roofed hangar set up against a ten-foot chain-link security fence. “There’s a storm off to the east, and we need to be well out of its path before it gathers strength, but that’ll only happen if we load up and get out of here quickly.”

A storm? It did look like one might be coming, with the sun pretty much blocked from sight by a scattering of clouds. She nodded, yet not even thoughts of a distant storm could ruin her euphoria. She had never truly believed in miracles, but as she met Gage Carson’s probing gaze, she actually felt she was in the middle of one right then.

In a few minutes, she’d be in the air and in less than two hours, she’d finally be home.

* * *

GAGE CARSON DIDN’T have a clue why he’d agreed to take this woman with him, except for her connection to Moses, and that arguing with her would have taken up precious time before he could get in the air. Moses and Gage had been childhood friends, spending boundless days on the Rez or on the Carson Ranch with Jack and Adam—Gage’s brothers—and John Longbow, now the town sheriff. Gage would do anything for Moses, and since it had been clear that Merry Brenner wasn’t going to give up easily, it had been most expedient to agree.

He crossed directly to his plane, a new aircraft with very few hours on it. It was a huge relief that the reason he had to put down in Pueblo, a slight hesitation at cruising speed, had been a simple fix.

He opened the door to the onboard storage area between the back passenger windows and the tail of the plane and tossed in the luggage. He turned to get Merry’s other bag, expecting her to be behind him, but she was still over by the open double doors, staring nervously up at the plane. He crossed to take her other bag from her and said, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

It was then that she started babbling, just as she had when she’d been going on about needing the ride and Moses and custom jobs.

“I had no idea a corporate plane would be so small,” she’d started out with, and hurried onto, “It looks too little to fly, and only two really small engines, they don’t look as if they could actually get any plane up in the air. I mean, the weight has to be a lot, even if it is so...so compact.” At least she’d come up with a new word for small, he thought, and let her prattle on as he tossed her second bag in the compartment.

“If an engine goes out, can it keep going on the other one?”

“If it needs to,” he said over his shoulder.

“But what if both go out?” she prodded. “Does it glide then?” She was slowly approaching the wing by him. “Well, can it?” she asked.

“Glide?” he queried as he closed the compartment hatch and secured it.

“Like one of those planes you make when you’re a kid, all out of balsa wood and it floats in the air?”

“I never made one, but this plane can kind of glide for a short period, depending on the air speed, turbulence and other factors.” He moved closer to her, and the minute he inhaled a floral fragrance that barely permeated the air around him, his first sight of her in the souvenir shop came back to him. The image of a tall and slender woman whom he could face and not have to bend down to make eye contact with, donned in skinny jeans, a suede jacket, chunky boots, and a dab of delicate perfume that had filled his senses.

He was studying her face now, her dark hair streaked with auburn, tugged back into a high ponytail, emphasizing a heart-shaped face dominated by striking green eyes. And there were freckles, dusting her clear skin over a flush to her cheeks that came either from the cold or from her being uneasy about flying. He didn’t want a case of nerves on this flight, not with the weather starting to shift and change.

“You’ve never flown in a small plane before, have you?”

She blinked at him. “Of course I have. Actually, lots of times. Miles and miles and miles. How about you?”

“Obviously I’ve flown,” he countered with his version of her answer to him. He saw her grimace. “I’ve been flying since I was twenty, and soloed before my twenty-first birthday,” he added quickly. “Since then, it’s one thrilling air ride for me after another.”

“I bet,” she muttered as she compulsively twisted the strap of her purse around her forefinger.

He didn’t have the time to talk her into sitting back and relaxing so she could enjoy a “top of the world” flight that would be like no other in her life. The next couple of hours could be fun, but he didn’t say any of that. He had a gut feeling that if he did, she’d start one of her bursts of nervous chatter.

So instead he stared right in those green eyes that had flares of gold at the pupils, and said as evenly as he could, “Let’s get you home.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and he had a momentary fear that she was not only a babbler when she got scared or excited, but she was a crier. Thankfully that didn’t happen. She managed a weak smile and said softly, “Yes, home,” and went toward the side of the plane.

He came up behind her and cupped her elbow to help her up onto the wing. “Grab the door by the bottom, then ease back as you lift it.” She did as he directed and the wing door went up. He was merely helping a client into the plane. No rules, even if they were his own rules, had been broken. He almost laughed at that, remembering how she’d thought fast enough to con him into this flight with a bogus retainer.

He got onto the wing himself, let her get seated, and then warned. “Don’t touch any controls. And be careful about the foot levers, just keep your feet off of them.”

She nodded and shut the door. It only took him a minute to get behind the controls. He was aware of Merry buckling in as he contacted the tower, got his take off position and instructions for taxiing, then he started the plane. He motioned to the same set of controls in front of her. “If we have time, I’ll give you a flying lesson,” he offered to try and ease the tension.

She gasped at him with what sounded like horror, and he smiled. “Just kidding,” he said.

Within minutes, they were on the runway, positioned for takeoff. Once they got clearance, it was flaps up and trim set for takeoff. He released the brakes and with the throttle fully open, the journey began. As the motor revved higher and higher, they gathered speed. At about sixty-five miles per hour, that moment came when the tires left the ground and there was nothing but air around the plane as the earth fell away.

He loved that transition—an addiction he freely admitted to—he loved flying, having this plane at his beck and call. It was the best fringe benefit of his success. But one glance at his passenger and Gage knew she wasn’t sharing any of his excitement at all.

She sat still, her hands gripping her knees, her eyes tightly shut, and he could see her taking deep breaths. Then her lips started to move silently. Praying? Oh, boy, he thought. “You okay?” he asked as they reached cruising altitude.

“Fine,” she replied, barely breaking the rhythm of her breathing and quiet chanting. If she wasn’t careful she was going to hyperventilate.

He eyed her. “I guess no one’s pointed out to you during all those flights you had, that flying is safer than driving?”

She kept her eyes closed. “Sure, that’s what they say, but no one adds that if you’re in a car and there’s a problem, you can pull to the side of the road, even if your motor explodes, but in a plane—” Her words cut off and she started that deep breathing and lip movement again.

Some kind of Zen thing, he thought, but said, “Never mind. Forget I mentioned that. The engines are not going to explode, and I know what I’m doing. It’s all good.”

“Fine,” she muttered, but went right back to her “exercises.”

“So, you’re going to Wolf Lake?”

She exhaled on a sigh and he couldn’t tell if it was from him annoying her with questions, or that special breathing she’d been doing. “Yes.”

He’d thought he could distract her, but now he wasn’t sure that was possible. “And you know Moses.”

“I told you that already, and I can’t talk, I have to count,” she said, her arms wrapping around herself so tightly her knuckles whitened.

“Count?”

“Please, yes, let me count.” He did as she asked while he checked the GPS, banked southwest into the flight plan, then set auto pilot and sat back in the seat. Looking over at Merry again, he took in the whole picture and came to the conclusion that she was not the type of woman who would blow your socks off at first, but the kind that probably grew on you as you discovered more about her. He noticed the straightness of her nose, and the sweep of her jaw, a delicate angle. And those freckles. He’d never thought about it before, but the freckles in some way made her seem vulnerable.

He couldn’t recall ever seeing her in Wolf Lake before, although he hadn’t been back to town in a long time. Now, his older brother, Jackson, was dealing with the loss of his wife and not doing well. His other brother, Adam, had taken off for Chicago with a woman who had visited Wolf Lake around Christmas, and now he was helping the woman and father in a legal battle. He didn’t understand much of what Adam was doing, but he knew it was so important to Adam that he left his job as a detective in Dallas, Texas, to go to Chicago with this lady called Faith.

Now Gage was on his way back, but not exactly for a visit. He looked at Merry, watching her lips moving again, and realized at one time he knew everyone in town, at least by sight, but now he figured there might be a lot of people who were total strangers to him. Just like Merry Brenner. The idea she was a friend of Moses’s, well, he really did want to learn more about Merry and her association with the good doctor.

“You okay?” he dared to asked again.

“Fine,” she breathed softly.

“Counting?”

“Yes.”

“You know, I once heard that an interviewer’s worst fear was a guest who gave one word answers. I think I finally understand what was meant by that.”

He thought she might smile at that, or at least stop counting whatever she was counting, but she didn’t. The only positive change was her flexing her fingers as if to ease the tension there. But her eyes stayed shut and the counting went on.

He checked the instrument panel, and then looked back at Merry. “Is there any point in my asking what you’re counting?”

When a long moment went by with no response, Gage was ready to give up, get through the trip in silence and wish her good luck once they landed. What she counted was her own business. Then she surprised him by saying, “Bubbles.”

“What?”

She exhaled, slowly rested her hands on her thighs and leaned back in the seat. Her eyes fluttered open, but they stayed focused on what was ahead of them, a growing cloud bank and thin beams of sunlight feebly cutting through them. “You know, the kind you blew as a kid that you could make from dish soap or get in those little plastic bottles?”

“Sure, but—”

She kept talking as if he hadn’t tried to say anything. “When I was little, I’d get away from wherever we were living at the time, find some grass and blow bubbles while I laid on my back. I’d watch them float up and up and up, until they either disappeared or burst.” She stopped and he saw her bite her lip. He could tell she wished she hadn’t said that. “Like most kids,” she added quickly.

He liked the feeling of her sharing, even if it she seemed to think it had been a mistake on her part. “My method of getting away was to go up to the lake at night,” he admitted, surprising himself that he’d said that out loud to her. It wasn’t something that had been brought up in any conversation for years.

“What would a Carson have to get away from?” she asked, finally turning to him. “You know the lake?”

“I was born in Wolf Lake. Obviously, I know the lake. I didn’t see it until I was maybe six years old, just before we left, but I’d heard about it all my life. The magic of how the full moon turns that whole area of wild grass into a rippling ocean moved by the breeze.”

She was born there? He shifted in his seat. She wasn’t familiar at all. He tried to think of families he’d known in the past, but nothing came to him. “You know, I don’t remember a Brenner family.”

“How about the Casey family?”

Casey? Yes, he remembered a family named Casey, and a child, but he couldn’t recall if the child was a boy or a girl. But he clearly remembered the father, Jerry Casey, a good man who had worked on the roads, and on some of the ranches around the area. Jerry had died young, and he couldn’t remember seeing the mother or the child after that.

“Jerry Casey?” he asked.

When she looked at him, her green eyes widened. “My dad.”

“I think he worked for my dad off and on.”

“Yes, he helped with fencing on your ranch, and he ran some of your cattle.”

So, he wasn’t helping out a stranger after all, and it was indeed a small world. “So you left and got married?”

“Oh, no. I mean, yes, we left—my mother, me and my stepfather, Mike Brenner. I got his last name because he was in the Air Force, and the benefits were better if we were actually family.”

He glanced at the control panel, then back at Merry. She seemed a bit less tense now. “So, you left and came back?”

“I left because I had to, and I came back because I wanted to.”

“Why did you want to?”

“We were constantly uprooted. The air force reassigned my stepfather to lots and lots of places in this country and Europe,” she explained. “A year here, a year there, and no real home.” She grimaced slightly. “I hated it. Some people would love to roam the world, but all I wanted was some place to call home.”

His choice would have been the roaming, going where he wanted to, exactly as he did with his business. “So, you returned to Wolf Lake?”

“Yes. When I graduated with a degree in Child Psychology, I did some clinical work, and met a lady who had a clinic in Arizona for Native children. It fascinated me, really making a difference and not being in an office setting.”

She hadn’t glanced out the front window for a few minutes, and Gage saw that as a positive step in keeping her calm. Especially since the clouds were starting to show signs of high wind, and he could feel the tugging at the plane.

“I’m certified to work with developmentally delayed children, and put in for several grants. Fate stepped in and I got an offer from The Family Center to work with the Native children and anyone else local in Wolf Lake.”

“So you took the grant offer?” Gage asked a bit distractedly as he felt another tug at the plane and he checked the control panel. The sky around them was steel gray and darkening while the wind was gaining speed and changing direction. He flipped off the autopilot and took control again just as snow began to show up in the wind that was driving at them.

“Yes, I did, and moved back to town about six months ago.”

“I was there when they put in The Family Center,” he murmured, keeping a close eye on the sky in front of them. He flipped on the radio, got an update through his earpiece, and felt a bit uneasy when he heard that the storm, predicted to curve to the east and go south, had changed course to the west, almost curling around to get ahead of them in their flight path.

“Moses told me that when I arrived, he supervises the grant, as I told you before. I’m there for two years to study the effects of certain therapies that are being developed. There are about ten kids right now in the program and...”

Gage adjusted their speed and banked slightly away from the wind. He didn’t realize that Merry had stopped speaking and was staring at him until she touched his arm.

“What’s wrong?” she asked tightly.


CHAPTER THREE

GAGE FELT THE pressure from her fingers through the denim of his jacket. “Nothing, it’s just a shift in the wind.”

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

He glanced at her fingers on his jacket sleeve, then over to her green eyes growing wide with concern. “The wind shifts in direction, and that’s what’s happened. I have to compensate for it.”

“And?”

“I’m compensating for it,” he repeated, feeling her touch disappear from his arm.

“Didn’t they tell you this could happen at the airport?”

“I was more worried about my plane,” he admitted and immediately regretted that statement.

“What was—or is—wrong with it?” she asked, her low voice belying her growing panic. She laced her fingers tightly in her lap, but never took her eyes off of him.

“I had to check a few things,” he said evasively. He wasn’t about to tell her about the minor electrical problem that had been corrected. He could only imagine what she’d do if she heard that right now.

“What things?”

The plane was flying smoothly now, more at ease with the wind, but the clouds were getting thicker toward the south, and the heavy darkness that warned about coming snow, was ominous. “It was an easy fix. I was only down for a few hours.”

She didn’t respond, just wrapped her arms around herself again and closed her eyes. The counting started again.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something...”

The counting stopped and then she opened her eyes and turned toward him. “What is it?”

“Well, I was wondering why you keep counting the bubbles when it doesn’t seem to be working for you?”

“Because I never mastered yoga or meditation. A therapist I trained with used it in therapy, and suggested it to me. Plain old diversion.” She was rocking a bit now. “Count something that is beautiful and gentle and calming to you, and match the counting to your breathing, and...” She sighed. “It’s supposed to work. It did work on the commercial flight today, but...it did work, it can work, but it’s not working now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, having no idea what it would be like to be scared of something as incredible as flying.

“Now, can I ask you a question?” she said almost in a whisper.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you buy such a small plane when you’ve obviously got money and could get one of those big silver corporate jets?”

He wanted to laugh at her question, but he bit it back, instinctively knowing that really wouldn’t go over well with her at that moment. “It’s what I wanted,” he said, not about to start discussing runway length and the fact that he liked it smaller so he could fly alone as much as possible.

“Why?”

He stared at her. “It’s green. My favorite color,” he said, referring to the panel again. The storm was approaching faster than he’d anticipated, but worse than that, he could feel a catch in the rhythm of the plane. A blip of some sort.

The plane shook against resistance then, and she exhaled on a long sigh. “I feel a bit green myself,” she muttered, eyes shut again, and he just bet those bubbles were being counted, too.

“Listen, I’ve flown this route many times with no trouble. I know it so well I could close my eyes and land us safely at the landing strip on the ranch. I’ve done it before.”

“You what?”

“I’m kidding,” he said quickly. “It’s just a joke. I’m wide awake, always am when I’m flying, and we’ll be in Wolf Lake before you know it.” Platitudes, he admitted to himself, but he was at a loss to figure out anything he could say that would put her at ease. That didn’t mean that he’d stop trying, however. “We have radar, a flight tracker, GPS.” He tapped the screen in front of him. “Every gadget we need to get there is in this panel and on this plane, so don’t worry. It’s all good.”

The wind buffeted the plane to one side and she gasped, “What about that?” She pointed an unsteady finger at the storm clearly gathering in the distance. “That looks horrible.”

He scanned the screen and said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, “It’s not pretty, but it won’t get to us before we get to where we want to be. If worse comes to worst, we’ll fly around it and take a bit more time to get home, or if it gets sloppy and spreads out, we’ll climb high enough to go over it.”

She was trembling slightly, he noticed, and he was flooded with a foreign feeling of protectiveness. He didn’t like that at all. He didn’t want to be totally responsible for her safety. He went through a lot on his own, answering to no one but himself, but this would be different.

Everything he’d have to do from here on out would be done for both of them, not just him. The usual rush he got from danger, or uncertainty, was gone since it wasn’t only his life at stake anymore. Not by a long shot. One glance at Merry and his stomach clenched. He turned away from the sight of her before he gave in to an overwhelming need to touch her and say, “We’ll make it.” He wasn’t a good liar, and he couldn’t say those words with any conviction right then.

So Gage did what he knew, and got on the radio, trying to make contact with the nearest tower to give them his coordinates. How he wished he’d never listened to Merry in the terminal and never said he’d bring her back home to Wolf Lake....

When he heard a report from the tower through the static about the changing direction and speed of the winds, and the mess they were heading right into, he knew he had to think fast.

“What are we going to do?” Merry asked in an unsteady voice.

If she hadn’t been with him, he would have made an immediate decision and never second guessed himself. Never. But with her, he was going back and forth, contemplating about going up or heading off to the side. He hated uncertainty, knowing that his slightest hesitation could mess things up for them. “We’ll go up,” he said with more conviction than he felt.

“Good,” he thought he heard Merry say as he spoke into the radio, telling the nearest tower what he’d do and asking for wind speed and direction. As he listened, he readjusted the controls and the plane started to climb. With the tower voice in the background, he could feel the small aircraft respond perfectly, and that gave him a sense of relief. It was a great plane. Then he felt the beginning of a drag, a sense of lost direction, right when Merry spoke again.

“Why are we climbing so slowly?”

The radio contact was breaking up, and he ignored it to check the radar. Because the wind is so strong, it’s pushing us back and down, he told himself, but instead said, “The weather.”

He had to concentrate, but was finding it harder than it should have been with Merry so close. He never should have let her get on board. Never. He didn’t need this. It was why he had no wish to be in any long term relationship because he didn’t want the responsibility or pressure. His job and his family were his only responsibilities, and business had been the main focus of his life since he’d started the company.

It still would be if the calls hadn’t come, one after the other over the past month. Calls about mundane things from friends and family in Wolf Lake. But beyond all the banter, he knew their real purpose. His older brother, Jack, needed him and he hadn’t been around.

Initially, Gage had planned on flying back for a day or two closer to summer. Then the request for a full bid on an entertainment complex southeast of Wolf Lake near the Rez had come from the town council, so he had made arrangements to travel there sooner rather than later.

Penciling in a week’s stay in Wolf Lake, he’d pacified his obligations business wise and his own conscience. However, he never thought he’d be in this plane, with a beautiful, confounding woman, flying straight into a storm. When the plane shuddered again, he tried to feather it into the wind to get clear and the action didn’t get any response from Merry. No gasp, no sobs, no petrified screams, so he chanced a look at her.

She was bent forward, her face hidden in her hands, and her back rising and falling rapidly. She was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t stop. He tried to push away that growing sense of protectiveness and that effort made his words sound short and abrupt. “Sit back and stop breathing so fast. You’re going to pass out.”

Her hands dropped just a bit and he could see her green eyes flash angrily at him. “Thanks,” she muttered, but did sit back and drop her hands to her lap.

He dismissed any apology he’d thought he should make, satisfied that she’d stopped counting bubbles and looking so terrified. “Make sure your belts are fastened and tight.”

“You, too,” she said, fiddling with her restraints.

He ignored her curt tone, and went on. “We’re going to have to fight to get to the west,” he told her, focusing on the panel in front of him. “That means jerking and possible dropping, but none of that means that we’re putting down. Do you understand that?”

He heard one word as he kept scanning the screens. “Yes.” She didn’t ask any questions.

“Ready?”

Another single word answer. “Yes.”

He didn’t have to look to know her eyes were shut. “Okay, here we go,” he said and began a painfully slow descent to the west. At first he felt it was working, despite two drops in altitude, and a jerk that snapped his head back. “It’s okay,” he said as much for his own benefit as it was for Merry’s.

“Good,” she replied, but he knew he’d spoken too soon. Things weren’t okay. They were losing altitude at about the same speed he was losing control of the plane. The angry winds knocked them, the snow finally growing into thin flakes that were more like needles being driven at them. Visibility was failing and the compass was nudging toward the south, not the west.

“No,” he murmured, trying to get control. The direction they were heading in was bringing them toward the mountain range that he flew over to get to Wolf Lake.

Now they were twisting in the air, icing on the outside direction adjusters made his control next to nonexistent. He heard Merry saying something, but the static of the radio in his ear drowned it out. He hit the button and heard more static. He felt a rush that came when he got in a tight spot, and he adjusted channels again, trying to get some clear connection between them and the nearest tower.

He gave his call identification, thought he heard someone say, “Roger, where—?” Then abrupt static was all he detected, along with the sounds of the wind beating against the plane, the whine of the engines and his own heart rattling against his ribs. He darted a look at Merry and was surprised to see she wasn’t doing her bubble counting. She was gripping the sides of the seat, but her eyes were on him, filled with what looked like disbelief.

“What?” he asked when she didn’t speak.

With a shake of her head, she rasped, “You’re crazy.”

He didn’t know where that came from. “You won’t be the first to call me that, or the last.”

“I bet,” she managed before biting her lip hard when the plane shuddered from the wind.

“How did you come to that diagnosis, Dr. Brenner?”

“All I had to do was see that excitement in your eyes,” she said. “You’re actually enjoying this!”

He wouldn’t deny that, at least for now, and he hit her with his own question as the plane seemed to settle a bit. “Why exactly are you here?”

Very slowly, they were gaining ground on a southerly direction. “You know why,” she responded.

“No, I don’t know.” Make her talk. Keep her occupied. “You’re terrified of flying, yet spent a hundred dollars to get on this ‘small, fragile plane’—your words, not mine—just so you could get home a day earlier than if you waited for a commercial flight.” He read and reread the altimeter. “Now, don’t you think that unless there’s some certifiably pressing reason behind all of this, you might be a bit crazy to inflict torture on yourself by flying with me?”

When she didn’t answer, he chanced a glance away from the screens to her. She was staring straight ahead, her teeth busy worrying her full bottom lip. “I just want to get home.”

He’d blown it. All that anger was gone, and she looked as if she was on the verge of tears. He could kick himself for whatever he’d said that did this to her. “Okay, you’re just in a hurry.”

She was still silent and Gage felt the plane slide slightly as the altitude decreased enough for him to feel it. He hoped Merry wouldn’t feel it, too. Wrong again. “What was that?” she asked abruptly.

“Just an adjustment,” he replied, then tried the radio again. While he sent out his ID, it was met by the incoming contact. He went through a check, felt positive, and told the tower that they had stabilized and were now heading west. After giving their coordinates once again, he said he’d contact them at a designated time for an update and signed off.

While he settled back, letting the plane do the work now that circumstances were more normal, he had a thought, but didn’t know where it had come from. Merry was doing anything to get home and the logical reason was someone was waiting for her in Wolf Lake, someone she was willing to risk everything to get to.

He kept a check on the information, but wondered why the conclusion he’d drawn, almost annoyed him. After all, what did he care what her reasons for returning home were? He’d known her for an hour at the most, and she was a “client.” That brought a slight smile at the ridiculous way she’d managed to become a client.

“I told you, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she demanded. “You’re almost smiling.”

He wasn’t about to tell her why he almost smiled, that was for sure. So he went for sarcasm that usually served him well. “Yeah, I just love being in the middle of a storm with ice on the wings and a compass that can’t figure out which way we’re going.”

Wrong thing to say again. “We’re lost?” she blurted, his smile long forgotten now.

“No,” he reassured her. “We’re doing just fine right now. We’ll be out of this mess in a bit, and home in Wolf Lake soon after that.”

* * *

“GREAT,” MERRY SAID on a shuddering sigh, her relief a heady thing. That was why he was smiling. They were in the clear, despite the growing storm, and he had it all under control. She’d been wrong to say he was crazy, since she was crazier than him. She should have waited at the airport. “I’m sorry,” she muttered to him, trying to block out the noise outside. “Obviously you’re in control.” She closed her eyes tightly to stop the sight of the ominous grayness that surrounded them.

“We had a problem,” he said evenly. “But we got through it. So, just sit back and count your bubbles.”

She opened her eyes to glance at him at the same time he turned to her. Her heart lurched when she was met by a smile that crinkled the corners of his dark eyes and exposed a single dimple to the right of his mouth. For that moment, she forgot all about the storm and the wind and the plane. It all came back when the plane bucked, the action so abrupt that she felt as if her heart was in her mouth.

Gage quickly got the plane under control. “Merely fine tuning,” he said, as the plane evened out again.

“You...you’re doing fine,” she breathed, needing that encouragement as much as she thought he probably did.

“Thanks,” he said, flashing another grin in her direction. “I like that assessment better than the crazy one.”

She wasn’t sure if there was sarcasm or not in his response. “I trust you, I really do.” And she meant it.

That brought a look her way that was dead sober, the dark eyes considering her before glancing away. There was no response from him, only a soft whistling of a tune she couldn’t recognize. She reasoned if he could joke about their situation, then that meant things had to be okay.

She exhaled, speaking to herself as much as to him. “You know, I’m the crazy one. I’m going back when I should have been patient. I should have called and let—”

She bolted upright. She hadn’t called Marsala back! Since she hadn’t heard anything from her, the receptionist probably figured Merry was still in Pueblo waiting for the morning flight out. She tugged her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and hit the power button. Her heart sank when she saw the battery was low and that no signal was available.

“Oh, man,” she whispered, shoving her cell back into the pocket of her jacket.

“What?” Gage asked.

“Phone’s dead, totally dead and I don’t suppose you can jump out in midair and get my duffel bag out of storage?”

He barked a short laugh at that. “No, I’m not jumping out, but as a matter of fact, I can get to the luggage area over the backseats. But no one is getting out of their restraints until we’re totally in the clear from this storm.” He touched the screen twice, then turned to her. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re agreeing that you’re crazy, too?”

“We’re both going back when we should have stayed at the airport. You knew there was a storm, but you thought you could outrun it, and I knew they’d get me on a plane at ten o’clock in the morning, and I chose to flag you down instead. We both wanted to get to Wolf Lake badly enough to risk all this.”

“Whoa, no. I’m going now because I have business meetings and I didn’t have time to cool my heels in Pueblo. I really thought, from what I was told, that the storm was far enough away and on course to sweep to the east, not southwest.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “If I’d known, I would have stayed put, cancelled this trip and rescheduled the meetings.”

“You weren’t going home for your family?”

“It’s mostly business, but I do need to see my brother and my parents. I couldn’t get away at Christmas, and things are changing on the old homestead, so I decided to combine a business trip with a visit to the family.”

She’d heard about Adam Carson leaving with the woman he’d met at the inn in town. Something about heading to Chicago and they still weren’t back, so Adam obviously wasn’t the brother he was going to visit. “Jackson?” she asked as she leaned her head against the chair’s high backrest and watched him closely.

“Yes, Jack.”

When Gage didn’t say any more, she thought again of the mention of business in his explanation. He was going back for business? She hadn’t heard about any major construction going on, except for something about a hotel or something.

“You have business there?” she asked, thankful that the ride was fairly smooth at the moment.

He exhaled. “Yeah.”

That was that; he didn’t elaborate at all. “I would guess that since you didn’t know about your bulletin board assignment until the last minute, that your business has to be on a grander scale than something in primary colors.”

He chuckled again, a comfortable sound, despite the constant roar of the wind. “Every client is as important as any other.”

“That’s your motto?” she asked as he turned to her, smiling, that single dimple showing up again.

“Maybe it should be,” he said before he averted his gaze to look at the screens again. “So, what’s waiting for you when you get back to Wolf Lake?”

Her stomach knotted. “My kids,” she said simply.

“Your kids?”

“Yes, and I promised I’d be back tonight, before they went home.”

He looked confused. “I thought you said you weren’t married.”

“I’m not. They’re the kids at The Family Center. I told them that I would be back today. I made a calendar and put it up. Today is circled and they’re watching for me. “I can’t let them down. They’ve had too much disappointment in their lives already.”

“So that’s what’s so urgent that you had to hitchhike to get back on time?”

She almost said an automatic, “Yes, that’s why,” but something else hit her out of the blue. Something she realized she’d known all along, but hadn’t acknowledged. She simply wanted to get home as soon as possible. She needed to get back where she felt she belonged. “Partly,” she conceded, but didn’t elaborate.

“I suspect they’d be just fine if you hadn’t found a way to get back,” he said, but his tone had become almost distracted. “Kids are adaptable.”

The tension in her grew even more. “Maybe. If they hadn’t been thrown into lives that they either don’t fully understand or can’t cope with, maybe things would be different.”

“Maybe they need to learn to cope,” he said, tapping the screen right in front of him. She’d thought he was talking to keep her distracted, to make sure she didn’t freak out, but his almost absentminded comment bothered her.

“Tell them that they need to suck it up and get over it?”

The edge in her voice finally caught his attention. “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he countered. “I just meant—”

“Your reason for going to Wolf Lake is valid, and mine isn’t?”

He held up a palm toward her. “Okay, okay, this has gotten off track. Let’s get back to what I meant, not what you heard.”

That made her snort. “Oh, a case of ‘what are you going to believe, me or your lying ears?’ Is that it?”

He stared at her, and then burst out laughing. She watched him, finally finding the humor in what she’d said, but she didn’t laugh. The best she could do was offer an apology. “Peace?”

“Yes,” he said, and she felt the plane turn slightly to her left, dipping into the snow streaked grayness around them.

“What are you doing? I thought we were managing to get toward the edges of this storm?”

“We are,” he said, but without a lot of conviction in his voice.

“Then why are you looking concerned?” she prodded as the plane dipped even more. “Come on, you can tell me. I won’t get upset, just tell me the plain, honest truth.”

He hesitated, which didn’t bode well for what he was going to say if he did what she asked. She braced herself and the howling wind was almost drowning out the sound of the motors. “Okay, we should be breaking out of this, at least, we should have broken out of it by now, but we haven’t, and the mountains are there, far too close. So, I have to maneuver a bit, and it might make the plane roll.”

“Roll?” She envisioned going head over heels in the plane as it did a giant loop in the sky.

“Shouldn’t have said that. I mean I’m going to have to angle more than normal, and you might feel a shifting of center. But I have to do it.”

“Okay, okay, I can understand that,” she said quickly. “Sure, that makes sense. Go ahead and do it.”

Gage cast her a glance and said, “Thank you, I will.” Then he focused his full attention on the controls.

Things seemed to be just what he said, that dipping, then leveling, then dipping again, mostly on his side, then she heard a muttered oath under his breath. He pressed something on his earpiece.

“What’s happening?” she asked, but he wasn’t talking to her.

He was back on the radio, speaking rapidly, but this time she could tell he was trying to make a connection. He said his call letters over and over again, waited, then tapped the screen several times before he started to talk again. A mishmash of unintelligible words to her. He must have made contact, but as far as she could tell, none of what he was saying was good.

When she thought he was finished trying the radio, she asked, “How bad is it?”

He shook his head as if to silence her, then he was speaking into the radio again. “Roger, roger!” He had made contact, listened, then shook his head. “Negative on that.” He listened as he fought to keep the plane level again. “The edge?” he asked. “Temps dropped, too low.”

Merry turned from him, wishing he was smiling now and enjoying this, despite how much that had annoyed her earlier. He was grim, intent on the words coming into his ears from the headset and the readings on the panel.


CHAPTER FOUR

GAGE FELT RESISTANCE in the controls that had little to do with the fierce wind and the snow sticking to the windows. He could see the temperature outside had dropped twenty degrees in less than a minute, and he knew what was happening. He switched radio channels to one he hoped to never see on any gages in a plane he was flying, 121.5 MHz—the international aeronautical emergency frequency.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday!” he repeated, followed by his call sign and his coordinates. “Extreme temperatures, engine involvement.”

A voice from a tower two hundred miles north of their location spoke in his ear. “Roger that,” the voice said, stating what he’d just told the person. “Got you. Can you maintain altitude?”

“Negative,” Gage sent back. “Going down.” He heard Merry gasp, but he couldn’t even look at her right then as the voice said, “I read you five by five.”

“Starting now,” he said into the radio and eased back on the rudder, cutting his speed so the nose slipped lower. “Now!”

“Roger that. Assistance is on the way.”

* * *

MERRY HUGGED HERSELF AGAIN, but she couldn’t make herself close her eyes and imagine the meadow and the bubbles. She stared at the icy snow hitting the window, and the way the light was all but gone. Mountains? Had he said mountains? And they’re going down? An image of a huge peak coming at them shook her, the visibility cut so drastically that she wasn’t sure they’d see anything before they got to it.

She said a quick, silent prayer for both of them, and for the children. She looked at Gage. “Are we going to crash?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said. I have to cover all eventualities.”

She remembered something her father had mentioned years ago. “A couple of those Carson boys are big risk takers, going to be hard to control when they get older.” He’d explained that there was no other reason why Gage and Adam ended up at the lake one night, hanging from an outcropping like two puppets, just because they’d wanted to climb the face of the cliff right after a rainstorm.

At the time, she hadn’t given her dad’s remark much thought, and couldn’t recall anything other than he had been called out for the rescue party by the boys’ grandfather, old Jackson Wolf. “You climbed the cliff at the lake and dangled there with your brother Adam until your grandfather found you, didn’t you?”

He cast her a sharp glance. “What made you think of that? Adam and I missed the route we planned on the climb and got stranded. My grandpa found us. He said he had a vision or a hunch, but he came and got us down.”

“I bet you enjoyed it until you realized how far you’d gone, didn’t you?”

His expression got quizzical. “When you’re a kid, you think you’re immortal, and nothing can—” His words were cut off when the plane lurched violently, making her heart drop just as suddenly.

He was on the radio again, giving new coordinates, over and over again, and something else that she couldn’t make out. She just knew that they were well and truly going down, not up. The plane shuddered ferociously, dropping more quickly than she knew it should. “Go back,” she yelled. “Just turn around and go back!”

He ignored her hysteria, speaking into the radio again, giving what she thought were coordinates.

The plane dropped again, jarring everything in Merry, and she wanted to shake Gage and force him to turn around. But before she could do anything, he was speaking to her, not into the radio. “We can’t,” he said. “We’re past that point.”

“Are we going to die?”

He gave her one long look and said, “Listen to me. You are not going to die. I promise.”

As strange as it seemed, she believed him. She really believed him. “Okay,” she found herself saying. “Okay.”

He reached over and covered her hand that was holding on to the seat for dear life. “Now check your belts, then hold on. If I tell you to get down, put your head on your knees and clasp your hands behind your neck.”

“We really are going down now, aren’t we?”

“Yes.” Their eyes met for a moment, neither said a word, yet they seemed to be communicating just the same.

There was another sharp drop of altitude, deeper into the driving snow that blinded them to everything. Gage barked out, “Look for any level place, anywhere that’s flat!”

Before she could do more than blink, Gage was speaking into the radio again, “Mayday! Mayday!” he said urgently, followed by coordinates, over and over again

She scanned as much of the area as she could make out in the storm. Gage continued to shout into the radio, over the piercing roar of the laboring engine. “Merry! Find us a spot!”

She tried to speak, but her voice was lost to her. The engines faltered, then shut off. Only the rushing wind could be heard. “Glide, glide!” she screamed.

“Exactly,” he said as the plane glided lower and lower. He hit some switches and reported, “Fuel, shut.”

Merry stared out the window, her worst nightmare a reality. In this plane, with this man. This was all that was left of her life.

There was snow and more snow, backed by darkness. Merry strained to find anything of the ground below them, but just when she was ready to tell Gage there was nothing visible, he yelled, “Get down, head on knees, hands clasped behind your neck.”

She did so without argument, bending at her waist to press her forehead to her legs. Her last glimpse out the window was of blurred shapes through the snow, a towering one directly ahead, as if rising up to meet them.

“Stay down no matter what happens,” Gage ordered.

She heard Gage clicking something, as a numbing fear gripped her. She didn’t want to die with this man, someone she barely knew, and the children...she couldn’t even say goodbye to them or her mother and her stepfather. An aching part of her wished she had someone, truly that one person she’d always thought would come along sooner or later, a man who loved her, really loved her.

She heard the howl of the storm, felt the shuddering, a jerk, a violent upheaval and the plane dropping. With her eyes closed tight, she shuddered, whispering for her and Gage to be all right.

Her world condensed in one explosive moment when the plane hit something, and there was a cracking, ripping of metal, then the belly scraping violently against the ground before it sat upward, then crashed down again. It jarred every bone in her body. The impact willed her to go in the wrong direction, but the restraints wouldn’t let her go, digging into her, stopping her. The pain was intense.

She couldn’t scream, no words were there as the plane twisted to her left, spinning, snapping her head so violently that she felt a cracking blow by her ear. Then another snap produced more pain and disorientation. Before she could even try to assuage how she really felt, there was a gut wrenching jerk.

Then nothing.

No movement. No sound apart from the raging wind outside. Was this death? No, as pain seemed to be enveloping Merry, in her head and her ribs and arms. She tried to figure it out, the true agony came from the unbearable tightness of the restraints. No, she wasn’t dead. She was hurting. “Thank you,” she breathed, her words so simple but she meant them so profoundly.

She was grateful to be alive, pain and all, grateful for her mother and stepfather, the kids, and for Gage, who had done everything in his power to protect her. She stayed very still, almost afraid to move, wondering where they had landed.

She had to brace herself before she opened her eyes, a slit at first, then she blinked at what seemed like shadows, until she realized that the only lights were the security ones in the junction where the floor met the walls. The control panel was blank; there were no red lights, nothing was flashing.

She slowly, carefully, flexed her neck and shoulders, moved back into the seat and sank into the leather upholstery with a sigh. The pressure from the belts had eased, and she could breathe without too much difficulty.

“Oh, gosh,” she whispered, trying to absorb the lingering discomfort in her arms and head. Alive. She was alive. They were alive! They’d made it. “Gage, we—”

She startled as she turned to him. He was twisted away from her, huddled against the window, his hat gone and his headpiece askew.

“Gage, Gage?” she said, her fingers fumbling with the buckles of her restraints, her voice sounding almost like a sob. “Please, Gage, look at me. We did it. You did it. We got down safe!”

He didn’t move and the panic that she had fought to keep at bay during the last minutes of horror, welled up in her. “Gage...Gage.” She pleaded for him to respond and reached for his arm. “Please.”

Her fingers closed over the rough jacket sleeve, and she pushed closer, ignoring the way the partial console bit into her thigh. “Wake up, wake up,” she begged. The horror she felt was almost suffocating her, horror that he was wounded or even worse. She couldn’t even fathom the possibility that he was gone.

“You can’t die,” she wept. “Please, don’t leave me.” She tugged his dangling headset off and tossed it onto the backseat “Please, don’t leave me!” It was then that she received her second miracle in one day.

A groan, barely audible over the sounds of the storm, caught her attention, then his right arm twitched. Relief was heady, and grew when she saw his hand move, awkwardly lifting up as if he was going to touch his face, then it fell heavily back on his thigh.

“Oh, Gage, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she breathed.

Then he shifted, slowly moving away from the window and toward her, and relief surged through her again. But as he turned his head in her direction, the air almost drove out of her chest. There was blood, so much blood, all over the left side of his face. Blood matted his hair. Blood on the window. Blood dripping on his jaw, soaking his jacket collar, staining the whiteness of his shirt underneath.

* * *

FOR ONE INSANE MOMENT, Gage was twelve years old again, sneaking up to the “lake” in the middle of the night, climbing straight up the rocky face still damp from the earlier rain. Without warning, the world fell out under him. His hands were gripping the shale outcropping, and Adam was right with him, both of them screaming into the night.

Then everything he was thinking was gone and all he could feel was the pain. And the pain was real, very real, and someone was calling out to him, over and over again. He tried to move, to get his eyes to open, but all he could do was let out a low groan. That voice, calling to him, trying to reach through the misery in his head, but his hand wouldn’t cooperate, not any more than his eyes would. His hand fell, and the voice got louder. He tried to think beyond the pain, and then it came to him—the crash, the gut wrenching pain, and Merry. She was talking to him, urging him to wake up, and he wanted to see the world, and to see Merry.

A touch on his chin and yes, Merry was speaking very close to him. “Just open your eyes, please, just open your eyes.”

Gage fought to obey her. After several failed attempts, he finally managed to pry his eyes open. All he could see were shadows at first and then...

Merry.

“Yes,” she said on a choked sob, “Thank you, thank you.”

“What for?” he actually managed to get past his lips.

The dim light outlined her sweet face. But he didn’t miss the tears that were trickling down her cheek. She touched him, her hand connecting with his jawline. “For...” She swallowed hard. “For getting us down,” she said, then added quickly, “and for not dying. Thank you.”

He got his hand to cover hers, feeling her shake, but she didn’t move from the contact. “I hadn’t planned on dying,” he rasped.

With his free hand he felt along the side of his face, there was dampness there, but not from Merry’s tears. One touch and he knew before he even saw his fingers stained with red, that he was bleeding. He groaned and gingerly felt his cheek again.

“No, don’t,” she said quickly. “It’s...you’re cut just under your hairline, and it’s bleeding so much.”

He drew back, exhaled and grabbed the edge of his seat to get into a better position. A cut...not important. But what was important was him checking the plane, to make sure there were no fuel leaks, although he couldn’t find any chemical odor as he tested the air in the cabin. But he had to be sure, and he had to find out how badly the aircraft was damaged.

But just the simple exertion of sitting up a bit, stopped him dead. His chest raged with pain, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He caught his breath and opened his eyes to Merry. “Sorry, a bit light-headed,” he fudged.

“How can I help?”

“First aid. Backseat, underneath,” he said thickly.

He watched her move back, shifting to one side, getting over the console, then she was gone. “Got it,” she finally said. She reappeared up front with a large white tin with a red cross on its lid.

She looked at him again, barely suppressing a flinch, but he saw the expression on her face. “It’s just a cut,” he said softly.

That brought on a rush of nervous chatter from her as she awkwardly perched herself half on the console and half on her seat. She kept her eyes down on the contents of the tin once she snapped the metal fasteners open. “Yep, it’s first aid, all right, and I can do this,” she went on. “I’ve patched up a lot of kids after they’ve done something silly, and they lived to tell about it, so this should be a breeze...”

His head throbbed, and her rapid speech was grating, but he understood that in some way, this rambling was a coping method for Merry. Without warning, she stopped, and the silence amidst the sound of wind and driven snow, was almost deafening. Slowly, she looked up from the tin, and even in the low light he could see more tears shining in her eyes. He grimaced at the thought of her despair and him having no way to help her.

“I...thought for a moment that you were...that you were hurt worse than a cut.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “You aren’t, are you? You’re okay, right? Just the cut? Not any broken bones or anything else?”

He knew his ribs weren’t right, but he guessed that was from the restraints. And his head, well he’d been told often enough how hard headed he was, so he guessed it was a simple cut. “I’m okay,” he told her.

The exhaled breath said it all. “Good, good,” she murmured and looked back down into the tin.

“What about you?” he asked.

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No blood or lacerations, so I’m fine,” she said. “Just grateful that you knew what to do to get us down.”

“I made a mess of it,” he said flatly. “But any landing you walk away from is a good landing.”

The rapid-fire speech started up again as the wind moaned and drove snow against the plane. “Bandages, antibiotics, wipes, cotton pads, tape. bandages...four, no, five of them.” She pushed aside the perfectly packed supplies. “They even have gum and energy bars, pain pills and lollipops, of all things.”

“We’re covered,” he said, shifting in the seat and feeling a stab of pain on his left side.

She took some things out, laid the tin behind her on her seat, then turned to Gage. “We...we just need to stop the blood, and get a bandage on it.” She reached toward him, the tips of her fingers brushing at his hair, and a frown spread across her face. “You might need stitches.”

“Whoa, you don’t do stitches, do you?”

She drew back. “No, but I think when we get to Wolf Lake you should see your doctor.”

“Good suggestion, when we get there.” He wasn’t going to say anything about “if” they got there. Now wasn’t the time to give her a rundown on what most likely was going to happen.

She tore open a package that held a cotton pad. “I’m going to have to put pressure on the wound, so it might hurt.”

“Go for it,” he said, feeling a trickle of blood on his cheek. “It sure can’t hurt as much as the results of one of Adam’s dares that went wrong.”

She eased the cotton gently onto his wound, her free hand brushing at his hair to clear it from the mess. He winced before he could stop himself. Lots of exposed nerve endings, he thought as he closed his eyes and let her do what she had to do. When she sat back with a sigh, he opened his eyes again. The blood on her hands startled him. She reached for a wipe and started to make the deep red disappear.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully.

“What did Adam dare you to do?” she asked as she finished cleaning her hands, ripped open another package and tore off short strips of adhesive tape.

As she put on the bandage, he told her about his wild, but fun childhood. “The midnight run to the lake, and the cliff we almost fell off of,” he murmured as she wiped at his jaw and neck with a cool cleansing pad. “Adam dared me to do that.”

“I can’t believe you accepted those dares.”

“Sure did. And lived to regret them,” he confessed as she gently fastened the adhesive strips to the cotton pad and his skin.

She moved back a bit and studied him. “You need clean clothes.” She waved vaguely at his jacket and shirt that he knew were ruined. “They’re really...” She crinkled her perfectly straight nose. “Really messy.”

“I wish I had a change of clothes, but...” He shrugged. “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

Unexpectedly, his offhanded quote brought the touch of a smile to her lips. “And I’d need to learn to ride if wishes were horses.”

His own smile nudged at him, despite the pain that seemed to be clamping around his head. “I’d teach you,” he murmured, intrigued by the softening in her face, and how she turned from him as he spoke.

She drew away, maneuvered back to her seat, miraculously getting the tin with the first-aid supplies back on the console before she dropped down in her seat with a whoosh. Finally, Merry glanced over at him. “Just tell me what happened to make us...land,” she said, obviously avoiding the word crash. “And what has to be done to get this thing going again.”

He blinked, hoping against hope she was joking. She wasn’t, so he answered her first question. “My best guess is, besides the storm, there was a problem with the electric and the motor was stalling, they couldn’t get in sync again.” He didn’t sugarcoat his next words. “And thankfully it doesn’t smell like there’s any break in the fuel lines, or it could have been a whole lot worse.”

He was going to continue to answer her, but was stricken with a sharp jolt of pain. He stayed very still. He had no choice. His ribs had chosen right then to feel like a hot vise around his chest. He kept that to himself. A broken rib was manageable if there weren’t any other symptoms that developed.

“I wonder how we look from outside,” he said, hating the unsteadiness in his own voice.

He knew the wing on his side had either been ripped off, or had been shredded, and since something was keeping the plane fairly level, shredded was his guess. He’d felt the torque when they hit land before he’d blacked out and come to with Merry over him, talking.

He’d been taught to undo the doors before impact in an emergency crash, and he’d totally forgotten. Now he was glad he had skipped that step. The windows and doors seemed to be intact, keeping out the wind and snow, but the coldness was starting to seep into the interior of the plane. He wasn’t sure how much he could move, but he had things to do, and he needed to do them now.

“Merry?” Gage said slowly, watching her closely. “I need to check the plane.”

“What?” Now her eyes were wide with disbelief.

“I need to see what condition it’s in,” he said as he reached for the door handle by his left side, but that was as far as he got. Merry had his right arm clutched in both of her hands, and was leaning into him. He barely kept from gasping because of the pain and had to will himself to turn very cautiously back to her.

“No,” Merry was saying emphatically, “you can’t. It’s a blizzard out there. You can’t go out.” She was still holding him and he could feel the pressure of her fingers through his jacket sleeve. She looked terrified.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he told her, but didn’t make any move to get free of her hold on him. “I’m just going to go around the plane and get back in.”

“No,” she said again. “You’ll get out there and disappear. You’ll get lost.”

He’d thought she was fairly controlled, that she was dealing with this as well as he could expect her to. But he’d been wrong. That unexpected sense of protectiveness surged through him. “Okay, okay,” he acquiesced, and he felt her fingers ease a bit, but they didn’t let go. “I’ll explain how I’ll do it, and...” He paid the price in acute pain to use his free hand to cover hers resting on his sleeve. “We’ll get through this,” he said simply, never breaking eye contact with her.

He saw her swallow. “Promise?”

“Absolutely. We’ll do it together.” That statement stunned him. He never joined forces with anyone if he could avoid it, but he’d meant what he said. “We’ll get out of here.”





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