Flying Home

by Mary Anne Wilson

  “Then I’ll bet you that we’re back in Wolf Lake in time for a big steak dinner tomorrow night.” He looked at his watch again. “Say, six o’clock, back in town, warm and safe and full of good food.”

  She studied him from underneath ridiculously lush, dark lashes. “You mentioned a bet?” she asked. “What are the stakes? Just remember that I don’t do money.”

  “You name what’s at stake.”

  “Hmm...” He could almost see the wheels turning. When he was getting curious, she finally said, “Okay, I know what the stakes will be.” There was a gleam in her green eyes that could have been amusement or could have been mischief, but whatever it was, it was better than that look of hope being lost.

  “What?”

  When she started to talk, he knew he’d been wrong about the look in those eyes. It wasn’t from amusement or mischief, it was from the feeling that she had him right where she wanted him. “The bet is, if we are not back in Wolf Lake for dinner tomorrow, you will agree to reconsider your take on the so called entertainment and casino complex near town.”

  “What?” he asked, and he didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No, it’s not. All I’m asking is you think it over, weigh my concerns, and the concerns of others in town, I might add, then make your decision.” She pursed her lips. “I’m not asking you to tank it—I’m just asking you to really consider it from all angles before you blithely go ahead with this potentially damaging project. Is that too big a bet for you?”

  He sat up more, never taking his eyes off of her. “What will it cost you if you lose, if we’re home by six tomorrow night? Will you give up all opposition to the proposed plans?”

  “No way, I’ll fight to the bitter end,” she said without any hedging.”

  “Then how about if you lose you’ll have your opinions about it, but you never tell another person how you feel?”

  She hesitated, and seemed to be stalling for time. “Stupid,” she muttered. “Surely you’ve noticed that I talk way too much.”

  He grinned. He had noticed that, but found he actually had grown to like it more than he cared to admit. “All right. New terms then, if you lose...” He paused purposely before continuing. “If you lose, you have to take one flying lesson.”

  Her eyes widened with what he thought was either horror or shock, or both, then he realized it was palpable fear. “I...I don’t know,” she stammered .

  “Oh, afraid you’ll lose?”

  “Well, nothing’s one hundred percent, is it?” she challenged.

  “Never mind. If you don’t want to take the bet,” he said, but knew she wouldn’t let it go.

  “No, no. I mean, I accept,” she told him, then she pushed aside the blankets to hold out a hand for him to shake. “Deal?”

  * * *

  HE TOOK HER hand in his, the slender fingers feeling delicate until Merry squeezed his hand hard. “Okay, okay,” Gage said, getting her message. “Deal.”

  The grip eased and he found he was reluctant to let go of her hand. “Did you ever think of going into business as a negotiator?”

  She couldn’t stop the giggle that left her mouth. “No, I wouldn’t be good at that. I could only argue for something that was very important to me, not do it for mere money or power.”

  He chuckled as her hand withdrew from his. “Just the passion, huh?”

  “Yes. And I am passionate about this.”

  “I noticed,” he said, settling back in the seat again, finding that personality trait more than interesting. “I hope you’ll make good on your side of the bet when you lose. Because I sure am looking forward to my steak dinner and signing you up for that first flight lesson. ”

  “In your dreams,” she retorted as she, too, settled back in her seat, and he watched her carefully tug the blankets back up to just below a satisfied smile on her full lips.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GAGE CLEARED HIS throat and averted his eyes from her lips. “What about your family?” he asked. “Do they know where you went and when you’d be back?”

  “Since my mother and stepfather are in Germany, I only call them once a month or so. I just called them last week.” She shrugged, moving the blankets up and down slightly. “They don’t ever have to know about this. No point to it.”

  “If I ever meet them, they won’t hear it from me,” Gage promised.

  Merry was surprised when a beeping sounded, and Gage pulled his arm free of the blankets to look at the face of his watch. “Time to give the mayor a call.” He pushed a button to turn off the alarm, then tucked his hand back under the blankets. “I think I’ll cancel that phone call,” he said with a crooked grin.”

  “Jasper Barnes?” Merry asked.

  “Yes, Barney. I was going to call him to let him know I was in town and maybe see him first off to get a feeling for what people really want.”

  “I’ve told you that most people don’t want that type of business brought into town.”

  “Sorry. Bad choice of words. I was talking about the design—the type of design they want for the buildings, not their opinion of the project.” Before she could respond, he slowly sat up and looked out the window. “I think I need to find those branches to make the arrow, just so it’s in place in the morning.”

  She touched his shoulder. “You said you’d do it then, in the morning.”

  “Why wait?” he asked as he glanced down at her. His hand gently covered hers as it rested on his shoulder. “I don’t want to mess up again.”

  “Oh, Gage, you don’t have to—”

  “Yes, I do,” he stated matter of factly. “And I need to do it while those pills are having an effect.”

  “Then I’m coming, too,” she said and sat up. “Let me get out first, so you can move a bit more freely.” She shoved out of her share of the blankets, then looked at him. “Just promise me that if the pain starts up again, you’ll tell me and you’ll come back inside.”

  He hesitated. “I’ll tell you if it gets too bad.”

  “No, just tell me when it starts up again,” she insisted.

  “And if I don’t promise you that, what are you going to do?”

  “Pin you down and tie you up and make you stay inside,” she said.

  “In your dreams,” he quipped, and couldn’t stop a smile. “Besides, I’m stronger than you.”

  She shrugged. “It was worth a try.” Then she scooted onto the front seat, put on her boots and jacket, scarf and gloves. She grabbed the brilliant Boom-Boom hat, opened the door and stood outside.

  “I’ll be right there,” Gage said as she stepped farther into the frosty air. The light was fading, and she wondered if they’d have enough time to do anything.

  She waited on the wing, and Gage came out, moving easier than he had the last time. “Did you take more medication?” she asked.

  With a shake of his head, he moved past her and slipped down onto the ground. He didn’t wait for her to follow before he went to the fire ring, where the coals still smoldered. “We should get more wood,” he said as the two of them started for the clearing. When they arrived at it, the clouds seemed even lower in the sky, dusk was on the horizon. Merry shivered, and this time he didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her and pull her to his side. “Let’s find things to make a sign,” he said, releasing her. “You go that way and I’ll go in the opposite direction, then meet back here.”

  Within minutes, they each had an assortment of rocks and large bows that had fallen from the trees. In a very short time, the limbs were laid out in a sprawling V that pointed in the direction of the plane’s location.

  “Done,” Gage said as the last bough fell into place, and Merry could hear the slight breathlessness in his voice. Without thinking about what she was doing, Merry reached for his hand and fe
lt his gloved fingers close around hers. She told herself it was to make sure they didn’t stumble or fall, but deep down, she knew that the connection she’d just made was partly protective and partly wanting to be close to him again.

  Silently they walked back to the plane, where Gage let go of Merry and made it onto the wing. Merry followed and soon they were settled in the back again, side by side, the air frigid inside.

  * * *

  GAGE FELT MERRY shiver and he wished they could have the heater on. But for now, they needed to conserve. Despite his stupid bet, he didn’t have a lot of hope that they’d be out of the mountains by tomorrow night. Eventually he’d have to do what he’d promised to do if he lost the bet—rethink the whole project. He could and he would, but he doubted it would make any real difference to the outcome.

  “It feels colder than it did outside,” Merry mumbled.

  “Come here,” he said, reaching for her to bring her up close to his side. He knew that body heat, at any other time, wouldn’t have been his priority for holding her close to him. But right then, his priority was their survival.

  Again she didn’t hesitate to shift closer to him, letting him put his right arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, her shivers running through her, but gradually slowing. “These blankets are great,” he said. “The orange one is made out of some special material that weighs next to nothing, but can hold almost all a person’s body heat.”

  “This is crazy, isn’t it?” she asked.

  He rubbed her shoulder under the blanket. “Crazy,” he agreed against her silky hair. Very crazy how things had happened. Crazy how she’d found him at the airport, how he’d let her tag along on the flight, how they became stranded together in the middle of the wilderness, and how he hated himself for putting her in danger.

  He felt her take an unsteady breath, then she settled into him without shivering. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  She gave his a weak smile. “Just great.”

  He shuffled the blankets up higher, then reclined again and resumed holding on to her. “Relax,” he whispered, desperate to reassure her. He squeezed her shoulder and felt his heart clench when she said nothing in return. “Remember, tomorrow is another day,” he added.

  She rested her hand on his chest, and he thought she laughed softly. “You’re a bottomless trove of old movies and TV shows, aren’t you?”

  He closed his eyes, smiling at her words. “Useless trivia from nights of not sleeping well and watching old movies and a station that carried all the classic TV programs.”

  “The kids love the old shows,” she said a bit thickly. “Love, love them.”

  Her kids. And she wouldn’t be there for them tonight, either. He fought an urge to brush at her hair where it tickled his chin. When they got out of this, when he got her home, he’d make sure the kids understood what happened. That’s the least he could do after letting this happen to her.

  He started to say something mundane about kids understanding, but was saved from facing her wrath rooted in the fact she thought he didn’t understand her kids’ needs at all, when he heard her snoring softly.

  He rested his cheek against the top of her head, and envied her. He’d been truthful about not being able to sleep well. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually slept for a full night, and last night he’d been restless. Now, he felt sore, exhausted, and light-headed, but sleep eluded him.

  He shifted a bit lower, easing her with him. He’d never been a man who needed people around, didn’t need a woman to fill his bed during the long nights if he didn’t want it. He did better alone. Now, though, he recognized that he needed this near stranger, Merry Brenner, with him, her warmth and softness against him, and that kind smile that stole his breath away.

  He yawned and the last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was Merry sighing against his chest.

  It wasn’t long before he was awoken for some reason he didn’t understand. The cabin seemed darker than it had been and the air was so cold it made him shudder beneath the blankets. He brought the blankets to just below his eyes. In the process, he all but covered Merry’s face. When he went to peel the blankets back a bit, he heard, “Don’t even think about it.”

  He smiled to himself and left the blankets alone. “Morning.”

  She stirred against him, stretching. Her green gaze still had the remnants of sleep, and her hair was tousled around her lovely face.

  “Unfortunately, it is,” she said, her words muffled by the blankets. “I don’t think we slept more than half an hour.

  “You’re right,” he conceded and he saw his breath spiral into the air. “Cold, isn’t it?”

  “Can’t we put on the heater, just for a little while?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Please, just long enough to take the edge off, then we’ll be under the blankets and stay put. The way it is now, we’re freezing and trying to warm up, instead of starting at relative warmness and maintaining it with the blankets.” There was a plaintive note to her voice. “That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  He met those green eyes, was about to say it wasn’t the smart thing to do. Instead he said, “Fine, fine, for a little while.”

  “Yes!” she said, throwing off the blankets in a rush to climb to the front and start the heater. Once it was going, she came back, tucked herself under the blankets and pulled them up to her chin. “We’ll let it run until we can’t see our breath when we talk, okay?”

  “Sure,” he said, knowing that it would be futile to debate it with this woman. When Merry set her mind to something, she was a force of nature, and he needed to hold off for the bigger battles ahead. She was watching him closely, with a slightly befuddled look on her face, then said, “Cat got your tongue? We have to actually talk to see our breath.”

  Right then a vibration touched his skin, rocking him, a throbbing in the air, and he didn’t need Merry to scream, “They found us! They’re here!” to know what was happening.

  * * *

  MERRY HAD HEARD it first. A helicopter was somewhere overhead. It wasn’t Gage who sprang up and scrambled for the door, grabbing boots to put on, then the jacket. It was her rushing to the door, getting it open and breaking out onto the wing.

  Awkwardly she dropped to the ground and headed for the flares. Over and over again in her mind, she told herself what to do with the cap, how to get that flare to light up and soar through the clouds.

  Bending over the nearest flare, she did what Gage had told her, and stood back. The clouds still hung low, the light was almost gone, dusk was all around them, then there was a hiss, a flash, then a soaring streak of fiery light surging up and into the sky. She stared hard above her, barely feeling the hand on her shoulder as she watched and waited, listening for the sound of the helicopter that had been fading away. It had to come back. It had to have seen the brilliance in the air.

  Gage was there, moving around her to light a second flare, sending it arcing into the sky. Then he straightened, stood back and looked up. He stared above them, the helicopter throbbing vibration closer, then the sounds changed right when Merry was certain that it would break through the clouds directly over them.

  Before that could happen, the noise headed off again, going toward the clearing. Hope all but choked her, hope that they saw the flares, that they saw the arrow in the clearing and that was where they were going to land. Merry ran full tilt for the trees, screaming at the engine sounds that were fading, “We’re here, we’re here!” But the sounds kept going and she kept running toward them.

  Then Gage was screaming at her. “Stop! Merry, stop! Stop!”

  Ignoring him, Merry continued running, her head up, her eyes on the heavy clouds, and listening intently as the last noises of the helicopter faded into nothingness. Without warning, Gage caught her by her shoulders and stopped
her dead in her tracks.

  “No,” she gasped. “No!” She struggled to get free.

  But he didn’t let her go. “I thought you were about to—” Gage bit off his words as he slowly pulled her back against his strong body. His arms wrapped around her and his chin rested on her head. “Thank goodness you stopped,” he said.

  It was then she looked ahead and was stunned to see Gage had stopped her less than two feet from the edge of the precipice that fell away to nothing below.

  She was thankful that she was leaning back against Gage because her legs almost gave way from the shock of what she’d almost done. “Oh.” The one word was all she could get out as she turned away from the vastness to press into Gage’s chest. “They left,” she mumbled against the roughness of his orange jacket and hit him lightly with her curled up fist. “They left and that was number two.”

  He held on to her, one hand rubbing her back. “They had to leave, even if they saw the flares. The light’s failing, and maybe they’re getting short on fuel, but they had to see the flares. You got there so fast. They’ll return when it gets light.”

  She drew away, her eyes damp, but no tears falling. Surprising herself, she actually gave him a half smile. “You have to be so sick of me and—” She studied him and then lifted a hand to touch his face. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  She could see something in his eyes as they narrowed, then his head lowered toward hers. The fact that he was about to kiss her didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was that she wanted it to happen so desperately. But his lips didn’t touch hers. They brushed her forehead as he whispered back, “We’ll make it.”

  She could feel his heart beating against her hands that were still on his chest, in fact, she was thankful she couldn’t move. Because if she had been free to, she would have wound her arms around his neck and brought him down to kiss him and never stop. When she looked up into his eyes, for a split second she thought she saw a fire in the dark brown depths, a fire that echoed in her. Then it was gone.

  “We...we need to get back,” she said, her voice slightly husky as she felt his arms let her go.