by Rita Henuber
Quietly she’d told Olivia that she and Danny had been talking in the months before he died. Working on fixing their relationship. The admiral asked for the opportunity to do the same with her.
Olivia wasn’t sure where this was going, but it was a start. Something else she could do for Danny. No. She looked at the woman beside her. Something she would do for herself.
“Nice to see the DEA thinks enough about him to get the best air ambulance service in the country,” her mother said. The corner of her mouth quirked in a tiny smile.
“Yes, it is good to know,” Olivia said, watching the chopper’s pilot, a woman, exit the bird. Her gaze went to the company logo painted on the helicopter. Large, white angel wings. The pilot stood by the wings in such a way it appeared they were sprouting from her. A most deliberate positioning to enhance the company name, Guardian Angel.
“You’re sure about this?”
“I’m sure about very little.”
The admiral turned quickly, swung the wheelchair around and crouched in front.
“You aren’t sure?”
The reality was, she wasn’t sure about anything. Her life would no longer be schedules, reports, orders and commands. She didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow, in six months or a year. She only knew this felt right. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure.”
“I’m sorry I was never there to help you, baby.”
“Ma’am, please. Let’s not go over this again.”
Her mother nodded. “You have my SIM card?”
Olivia smiled and patted her left breast, where she’d tucked the admiral’s SIM card inside her bra. They were being taken to an undisclosed destination. She wanted her brother and mother to know where she was. It worked once, it should work again.
Behind them the elevator doors opened. The gurney carrying Declan was surrounded by the two doctors, three nurses and his guard.
The flight doctor, a no-nonsense looking woman in a flight suit, and the doctor who had treated him came to Olivia and she stood to greet them.
“He’s lightly sedated. Once we get in the chopper I’ll give him morphine so he’ll be comfortable,” the flight doc said. “By the time we get to the Gulfstream it will wear off. The jet’s medical crew will assess what he needs after that.” She referred to the air ambulance taking them to where Declan would convalesce.
Olivia nodded. Declan had given her power of attorney and she would make all medical decisions.
“I’ve gone over the patient’s history with your flight physician and nurse. They know their stuff. I’m confident he’ll do well during the flight,” the hospital’s doctor added.
They know their stuff all right. Olivia thoroughly checked and hired the crew herself. The flight doctor was a former army physician who served in first line treatment hospitals in Afghanistan and Iraq. The two flight nurses had more trauma experience than most big city ER doctors. The pilot was a Marine who by all accounts was phenomenal. The copilot had served with her in the Coast Guard.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander Carver.” As they shook, Olivia thought to correct the doctor. She wasn’t Commander Carver anymore. Her exit papers from the Coast Guard were signed and delivered that very morning.
She went to Declan’s side, bent and kissed his cheek. His eyelids jerked as he tried to force them open. She placed her lips close to his ear. “I’m here. Rest.”
The glass doors slid open and the group moved to the waiting helicopter. When they were close, the pilot snapped to attention, gave a sharp salute and climbed inside the bird. Olivia watched the nurses switch his wires to the helicopter’s equipment. When the flight doctor was satisfied all was good she gave a thumbs up.
Olivia turned to her mother to say thank you, and was surprised with a long hug. “Take care, baby. See you soon.” There were tears in her eyes. “I love you, baby girl.” She did an about face and retreated inside.
“I love you too…Mama,” Olivia called out, hoping the words weren’t lost in the chopper’s engine noise.
Inside, she strapped into the comfortable leather seat and settled back. The familiar whine of the helicopter’s turbo was comforting.
Her pilot lifted off smoothly and increased air speed with such finesse the only tell was the pitch of the engines.
She rested her hand over Declan’s fingers, tightening ever so slightly and he returned the pressure. He would be okay, she knew it. His eyes opened. She still had not become accustomed to those green eyes. He raised his free hand to the mask covering his nose and mouth. Through the plastic mask she watched his lips form the word talk.
She leaned and spoke in his ear. “No. Too noisy. You rest. There’ll be plenty of time to talk later.”
He blinked his eyes twice—their code for yes—and closed his lids. Yes, when they reached their destination there would be plenty of time to talk and rediscover each other. She had so much to tell him. First would be the whole truth about her mother. Then the most difficult thing to explain would come. She stroked his cheek. Looking up, she caught one of the nurses watching. They exchanged smiles.
How would Declan take the fact she was a very wealthy woman? Between oil rich Texas land, inherited from their uncle and Danny’s insurance and stocks, she and Sammy together were worth well over twenty million. They owned and operated the Guardian Angel Medical Flight Charters they were aboard at that moment. Eight helicopters and four Gulfstreams jammed with high tech medical equipment, operated by the very best medical personnel, could be on a mission anywhere in the world in a matter of hours. Declan squeezed her hand again. Was he reading her thoughts?
“He’s strong.” The nurse’s voice over her head set shook her from her thoughts. “In no time you’ll get control of your life. In a year he’ll be back to normal. You’ll never know he was hurt.”
In a year. She sighed and looked out the window at the shimmering Atlantic. After what they’d been through, what would normal be for them? “I’m pushing morphine,” the nurse said. “If you want to say anything do it now. He’ll be out until we get to the jet.”
Olivia pressed her lips to his ear. “I love you, Declan.” She kissed his check and watched his lips form “I love you.”
About the Author
Rita grew up running the beaches of a barrier island on Florida’s east coast. An island brat, she spent more time climbing weathered oaks and chasing alligators than playing with the dolls her family gave her. She married a marine and feels fortunate to have lived many places and traveled to the states and countries she didn’t live. After retiring from government service she moved back to that barrier island where she writes contemporary fiction, weaving her experiences into her storytelling. Her heroes and heroines are either in the military or government service because she writes what she knows. Her father was in the Coast Guard and immediate family members served in every branch of the service as desk jockeys, grunts, pilots and everything in between. She’s experienced the highs and lows of military and government life and is grateful for each experience.
Rita reads or listens to two to three books a week. She has no favorite genre or author; she just loves a good story.
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ISBN: 978-14268-9207-3
Copyright © 2011 by Rita Henuber
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