by Dianne Drake
He was positive he could see what she wanted. Earlier, when they’d walked through the house he’d decided to buy, the look on her face had been one that said home. She wanted to be there, with him, with the girls, yet when she’d realized that’s what she wanted, she’d pulled away. Not just pulled, run as hard and fast as she could. Figuratively. Had they not been in an area of White Elk she didn’t know, she’d have probably done her running in the literal sense.
Of course, his own situation didn’t help matters any. But at least he was working on it. Trying hard to move forward. Not only for himself but for the girls. They needed more than he was giving them, and Dinah was showing him how much. Oh, not in an overt way—Eric, do this. Eric, do that. But she was so tuned in to the girls, so in touch with their needs and how, even at age five, they were growing up. He had to be more sensitive to that, and until Dinah had showed up, he hadn’t been aware that he wasn’t being responsive the way he needed to be.
“So, what do I do?” he asked Pippa an hour later. She was looking up at him none too patiently.
“Put the flour in the bowl, Daddy! Just put it in the bowl.”
They were baking cookies. Or at least trying. The three of them, decked out in aprons, were making a huge mess of Janice’s kitchen. Pippa and Paige wanted to bake, but Dinah hadn’t been available. So here he was, being the worst cook in the world. But being it with his daughters, at Dinah’s suggestion. “Just do it, Eric,” she’d told him. “It’s about the process, not the results.”
And it was a nice process, really. Dinah was right. The experience itself was much better than the cookies would probably be. So why didn’t he know that, and why did she?
It was frustrating. He wanted to be a perfect dad. But his shortcomings were mounting. Or maybe he was simply more aware of them now. “Then what comes after the flour?” he asked, truly wishing Dinah was there. It was a wish on his mind more and more because he could see her as the perfect mom to his daughters—the only person he’d thought of that way other than Patricia. But more than being a perfect mom, he could see Dinah as the perfect wife. The wife he wanted.
Paige handed him a measuring spoon. “You measure out the salt, then the baking soda. Be very careful it’s only what the recipe says. Dinah says that in baking, you have to be exact.”
Amazing, she even sounded like Dinah. “And what happens if I’m not exact?” he teased.
Both girls turned up their noses. “Yuck,” they said in unison. Then Pippa continued, “You’d have to throw it out and start all over because it should be the best you can make it.”
“And who told you that?” As if he couldn’t guess.
“Dinah did,” Paige answered. “She said no matter what you do, you have to try your best.”
“You two really like her, don’t you?”
They nodded eagerly. “But sometimes she’s sad,” Pippa said. “Why, Daddy?”
“Sometimes people get sad. Even doctors don’t always know why. But if I knew how to make Dinah feel better, I would,” he said, grabbing the carton of eggs Paige was handing him. “So what do I do with the eggs, and do I put the eggshells into the cookies, too?”
“Daddy!” Both girls giggled, tugged on his apron, tried to push him away from the cabinet.
“You know what?” he said, after a ten minute tussle with the girls. “Let’s leave the cookies until later. I’m in the mood to take my two best girls out to a nice dinner.”
“At Dinah’s restaurant?” Pippa asked.
“At Dinah’s restaurant. And you can order off the adult menu. Escargots, if you want.”
“What’s that?” Pippa asked.
“Snails.” Eric kept a straight face. “Cooked in garlic butter. Yummy.”
“Eew,” the both squealed, scampering away to get dressed.
An hour later, dressed in a grey suit he hardly ever wore, escorting two of the prettiest girls in town, one dressed in a lavender A-line dress, one dressed in yellow—the dresses bought on a shopping trip with Dinah—and both wearing colored lip balm she’d also bought them, the Ramsey family made their grand entrance into the Pine Lodge Restaurant, where they were escorted to a table with the best view in the house, as Eric had requested.
“I don’t want snails on my menu,” Pippa told the maître d’. “Daddy said we could have the adult menu, but it has snails and we don’t like snails.”
Paige was responding with a firm shake of her head, turning up her nose.
“Very well,” the maître d’ said, making a big production of handing each of the girls the children’s menu. “This is the menu without the snails.” He handed the same menu to Eric. “And it’s not necessarily for children. We have a very fine chef here who will prepare anything on this menu just the way you like it.” He glanced at Eric. “In adult portions, if requested.”
“She’s going to marry my daddy,” Paige said quite loudly.
“Who?” the maître d’ asked, as Eric frantically shook his head, trying to stop his daughter from making a pronouncement that shouldn’t be made.
“Dinah. The chef. She’s going to marry our daddy,” Pippa volunteered. “They picked out a house today.”
The maître d’ responded with the arching of his eyebrows then backed away. “Your server will be Jeffery, and he’ll be here momentarily. Please, enjoy your meal.” He handed Eric an adult menu then left.
“Who told you I’m getting married?” Eric asked, trying to keep his voice down.
“I heard Aunt Janice tell Debbi. She said if you were smart you’d marry Dinah.” That from Pippa.
Paige continued, “And you’re smart, Daddy. You’re the smartest man we know. So that means you’re going to marry Dinah!”
“Look, girls. Dinah and I are…friends. We haven’t ever…”
“Champagne, sir?” Jeffrey said, setting two flutes of bubbly down in front of Eric. “And for the girls, ginger ale. Compliments of the house, to celebrate your engagement to Miss Corday.”
“See, Daddy!” Pippa exclaimed. “Everybody knows.”
Eric dropped his head into his hands, and groaned. How could one little dinner with his daughters have gone so wrong, even before the first course?
“So, I hear we’re engaged?” Dinah said, stepping up to the table. She was dressed to cook, hair done up under a chef’s hat, wearing a white chef’s jacket and black and white checkered chef’s pants, spatula in hand. “I was just asked if I wanted to step out of the kitchen and have a celebratory flute of champagne with my intended and his family.”
“Even she knows,” Paige cried. “That means you are!”
Eric’s response was to leave his head in his hands and groan again.
Dinner went quite nicely, considering the way it had started. He’d ordered a spinach and squid linguine in garlic cream sauce, from the adult menu, while the girls had chosen chicken, from the children’s menu. Except for her one brief appearance at the table, Dinah had stayed in the kitchen. They’d made arrangements for a late-night dessert together after he’d taken the girls home and tucked them into bed. He looked forward to that because it had been Dinah’s invitation, the first right and proper date between them, she’d called it. Truth was, they hadn’t had that first date yet. Not a real date. Admittedly, he was nervous.
So, after he’d accepted Dinah’s offer, he’d explained to the girls that he and Dinah were not picking out a house together, were not getting married. They’d taken the information well, but a mischievous look that had passed between the girls told him the matter was not closed. At least, as far as they were concerned, it wasn’t.
Ice cream was the chosen dessert for the girls, while Eric passed on the last course, contented to drink his coffee and stare out the window at the sunset. It was a beautiful evening. Clear. The sun was casting a golden haze over the top of the older Sister, a spectacular sight. This was a good place to live, and he’d never regretted moving here with the girls. Oh, he’d resisted at first, when Neil had suggested it. Neil w
as from here, and they’d met when Neil had come to California to take a job. Neil’s heart had never left here, though, and he’d wanted to come home almost from the day Eric had met him. Somewhere in the middle of Neil’s two-year contract, he’d convinced Eric that White Elk would be a good place to raise Pippa and Paige. And, as it had turned out, it had. Now he didn’t want to leave here. Didn’t have the same desires he’d once had for big-city medicine and an upwardly mobile career. This was good. And finally moving on made it even better.
He was moving on, too. Slowly, sometimes not very surely. But he was in the process, thanks to Dinah. She was showing him there was still a lot of life waiting for him if he wanted to have it. With Dinah, he did want to have it. And if nothing else came out of their first right and proper date tonight, he was going to beg…get down on his knees if he had to and beg her patience. The picture of it in his mind was ungainly, but he would do whatever it took to keep her here, to keep her from running away.
For the first time in years, Eric was anxious to see what life held in store for him.
“More sprinkles, please,” Pippa said to Jeffrey, who’d inquired as to her satisfaction with the ice cream.
“Me, too,” Paige chimed in.
Eric smiled. Yes, it was a very good life. He only wished…Glancing at the kitchen door for the hundredth time that evening, he stopped the thought. No point in wishing. Dinah wasn’t ready to step over the line. Wasn’t even ready to come close.
He was a patient man, though. Maybe that would be enough to get him through until she had a change of heart. Or maybe that’s what would eventually do him in. For now all he had was time…time to wait.
Taking another sip of coffee, he looked out over the mountaintop again, admiring the splendor of the amazing palette of colors against the darkening sky. Johnny Mason’s yellow plane, a twelve-passenger commuter, was making its lazy way through the sky. The Canary, everybody called it. The Canary, which was available for rescue and transport whenever he needed it.
Johnny was good that way. So was everybody else here. Nice, solid people. People who cared.
“Can Johnny see us?” Paige asked. “We’re almost as high as he is.”
“No, it’s too far away. And right now Johnny is concentrating on landing.” The small airstrip on the middle Sister had been built recently, with two or three small commuters using it regularly, as well as several private planes. During the ski season private planes flew in celebrity skiers practically every day. This evening, though, Johnny was flying in Fallon O’Gara. She was a backbone of the hospital, maybe the most essential person there, and while no one begrudged her a short holiday, he was glad she was coming back. White Elk Hospital simply ran better with Fallon there.
“When can we ride in The Canary?” Pippa asked. “Because Johnny said he’d let us if you will.”
Eric chuckled. “He did, did he?”
Both girls nodded.
“We’ll talk about it when you’re eight.”
“Seven,” they protested in unison.
“Nine,” he argued back.
“Seven and a half,” they countered together.
“Ten,” he came back one more time.
“Eight,” they finally agreed, smiling like the victory was theirs.
Eric took another sip of coffee, thinking what a lucky man he was as he watched The Canary head into its landing. Coming about, it made a sweeping circle and headed directly for the middle Sister then dipped its nose to start its descent. Then, all of a sudden…“Oh, my God!” He dropped his half-full coffee cup on the table, as half the people in the restaurant gasped and screamed. Then he bolted to his feet.
Immediately, Dinah flew from the kitchen. “What is it?” she yelled out over the cries of practically all the people dining there, who were transfixed on what seemed to be nothing outside.
“Plane crash,” Eric whispered, hoping the girls hadn’t heard. But, of course, they had, for they had their faces pressed to the window, the same way another thirty diners in the restaurant did. “Johnny Mason’s plane went down,” he choked out, already dialing on his cell phone.
Without missing a beat, Dinah threw her chef’s hat onto the table and was untying her apron as she spun around. “I’ll be ready to go in two minutes,” she called behind her, running as hard and as fast as she could on her way to her room to get ready.
“Neil,” Eric said, when his partner answered. “Johnny Mason’s plane just went down. As best as I could tell, it’s over the landing strip or close to it. I’m already halfway there, so I’m on my way.”
Neil agreed to call a full-out rescue, but before he hung up, Eric reminded him, “Fallon’s on that plane.” It was a sobering thought, yet one he couldn’t dwell on as he dialed his sister’s number next. “Janice, there’s been a plane crash—The Canary’s down. I’m up at the lodge on Pine Ridge with the girls and I need you or someone to come and get them.”
“Daddy!” Pippa and Paige cried together. “What’s wrong? Why are the people yelling?”
“Because there was an accident up on the middle Sister,” he said, as he punched in Jess Weldon’s number, keeping his fingers crossed that Jess was home and ready to go. Jess had a helicopter, kept it parked in a field behind his house. He was usually ready to go at the drop of a hat. “And they’re afraid people might be hurt.”
“Are you going to go help the people who might be hurt?” Paige asked.
“Yes, sweetheart, Daddy’s going to go help the people.”
“Could you have an accident, too, like they did?” Pippa asked. “And get hurt?”
That was the question he never, ever wanted to answer. The reason he’d never told the girls what he did, other than being a doctor. It would scare them, and he didn’t want that. It would also raise the inevitable question—the one Pippa had just asked. So he’d avoided the truth, but he’d never lied to the girls, and he wasn’t going to start now. “I’m always very careful that I won’t get hurt. It could happen, but Daddy’s very safe and he doesn’t want you to worry about him.”
“Aunt Janice does,” Paige said.
His girls were so perceptive. It amazed him, scared him and made him proud at the same time. “Look, we’ll talk about this when I get back. It’ll probably be some time tomorrow. OK?”
Both girls nodded a skeptical, frightened agreement, and Eric pulled them into his arms and hugged them. “We’ll finish making those cookies when I get back, and I’ll call you later tonight. Promise.”
“I’m ready,” Dinah shouted, on her way back through the dining room. She was dressed in jeans and boots, wearing a heavy sweater over a T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was carrying her medical kit, looking every bit the rescuer.
Eric simply stared for a moment. She was in her element, doing this. In her element being a nurse, too. Something about her life had to change and, God willing, he had to be the one to do it. He had to be the one to make her see that she could trust him but, more, that she could trust herself.
Pippa and Paige were left in Jeffrey’s capable hands until Janice could get there, and once Eric knew they were going to be fine, he ran to his truck, motioning Dinah to follow.
“Do you know where it went down?” she asked, finally catching up to him. He was already halfway out of his suit, getting ready to change into the clothes he always kept with him in the event of an emergency. While he unbuttoned his shirt, she helped him get the necktie off. While he was pulling off his pants, she was holding out a pair of jeans for him to put on.
“I’m pretty sure he was on his approach to the little landing strip up on the middle Sister. Oh, and Fallon O’Gara was supposed to be flying in. She’s been on a holiday in Salt Lake City. Falling in love, I think.”
“Oh, no!” Dinah gasped, grabbing Eric’s boots for him.
“I talked to her earlier. She said she was going to try and catch the last flight in. Which was Johnny Mason’s.”
“Maybe it wasn’t Johnn
y’s plane that…” She couldn’t bring herself to say “crashed”. Plane crashes signified such awful things.
“His plane is yellow, bright yellow. There’s no mistaking it.”
“Was the plane you saw yellow?”
Eric nodded.
Dinah grimaced. “Since it didn’t flame, that’s good. Maybe they made the airstrip after all.”
“Neil’s already had a call from Ella Clark. She runs the landing strip up there. She said the plane’s down.” He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes now.”
“How long will it take us to get there?”
Eric glanced up as Jess Weldon’s helicopter came into view. “A few minutes,” he said, bending into the back of the truck, pulling out equipment—ropes, bags, tools.
“The drive would take thirty minutes, this will take less than ten.” Eric waved Dinah toward the chopper and led the way, leaving Dinah to run after him, her arms loaded with the supplies he hadn’t been able to carry. But when she got to the helicopter, she was surprised to find its pilot stepping out.
“It’s a two-seater,” Eric yelled. “And I need you more than I need Jess.” He said something to Jess, tossed him the set of keys to his truck, and Jess turned and ran toward the parking lot.
“What are you doing?” Dinah practically screamed, her eyes still fixed on the departing pilot.
“Get in!” He yelled the command then climbed into the pilot’s seat. Blindly, Dinah obeyed, but once she was strapped in, she shut her eyes and refused to open them.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she yelled, gripping the edges of her seat so hard her knuckles turned white. She could feel the lift, hear the rotors pick up velocity as they headed straight up. But she still couldn’t look down. Couldn’t even get her eyes open to look, even if she’d wanted to. “Are you really a pilot, too?” she shouted. But he didn’t answer. So she ventured a peek in his direction, only to find him talking into a headset. Before she could close her eyes again, she caught sight of the ground, saw dozens of people down there looking up…at them. They were getting smaller and smaller, which meant…Dinah gulped hard. Of all the incredible things not to know about a person, this had to be the most incredible. Because he was a pilot, an honest-to-goodness pilot, and a very skilled one judging from the way he handled the aircraft.