by Kim Watters
Underneath the pilot’s sparse words, Ruth continued to sense an ache, a loneliness that seemed to consume him from the inside out. She’d picked up on it during their flight out and had grown only more acutely aware of it.
Noah wasn’t the only one affected by some unknown force. At the bottom of her peripheral vision, she saw Houston lift his head from his paws as his tail slowly thumped on the carpeting. Her heart went out to both of them.
Shifting her gaze from Houston, Ruth looked out the tiny window. Suspended above the horizon, the almost full moon glowed, bathing the interior of the plane in a surreal splash of white. Too bad her emotions couldn’t absorb the peaceful feeling as she thought of Noah’s words.
“I’m better off staying awake until I can actually sleep for more than twenty minutes.” Ruth’s fingers tightened around the container of food.
The seams of the white box threatened to collapse under the pressure, so she forced herself to relax. No need to spill tomorrow’s lunch on the only lab coat not in the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in her hamper. As soon as she placed the container by her feet, Ruth pulled out her latest lame attempt at knitting a scarf. Keeping her fingers and mind occupied during flight usually helped, especially on the flights home when most of her work was done.
“Suit yourself.”
At his words, she closed her eyes again, but Noah’s strong, immobile and anguished face stared back at her. If only she could figure why their presence inside the aircraft caused such tension, then maybe she could bring a smile back to his lips.
Nice move, Barton.
Noah watched Ruth in the tiny mirror again. She sat in the same seat as earlier—the seat directly in front of the older woman, a Nancy something. The one who got airsick. So far so good. He’d been lucky, and up until now, no one had gotten airsick yet on one of his flights. Hopefully the woman wouldn’t break his record.
His attention drifted to the seat across the aisle from Ruth where the doctor sat. More specifically, the cooler by the man’s black shoes. Maybe Noah would be the first to christen his own plane. What disembodied piece of human anatomy lay packed on ice inside?
“It’s a heart.” Ruth whispered through the headset as if she’d read his mind. “What else would you like to know?”
“Nothing.” Noah refused to vocalize the words he wanted to shout in her direction. Why do you do what you do? Why can’t you leave people alone? But he’d already said enough.
The less he knew about his passengers, the better off he’d be. He didn’t want to know their business, where they’d gone to college or why they’d chosen to wear a certain sweater. Let Brad or the company’s other pilot Seth be known as the thoughtful, attentive pilots. Emotions got people into trouble. Emotions made people care.
Noah’s fingers tightened around the yoke until the whites of his knuckles gleamed. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. He would never fall in love again and experience the pain of having his heart ripped out of him. So why did his mouth go dry when he inhaled the hint of citrus and vanilla when Ruth was around?
“How soon will we be there?” Ruth’s voice intruded on his thoughts, enfolding him in her warmth again. A warmth he didn’t want to feel.
“About nine-thirty,” Noah growled. He couldn’t help it. Ruth Fontaine brought out the kind of behavior best left in the boxing ring of his youth. He’d been kidding himself to think he’d been over the deaths of Michelle and Jeremy. The vultures sitting behind him served as a constant reminder of his experience in the hospital. Different people with the same intention. He squeezed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep the nightmares from taking control during his waking hours.
“Thanks.” Her voice caused a spot of light but not enough to make him change his mind about her.
He still believed the doctors hadn’t done enough to save Jeremy because they wanted his organs. Noah would never forgive them for that.
After he heard Ruth update the hospital in Phoenix about their pending arrival, he glanced back again and noticed the knitting project and a ball of yarn she’d pulled out earlier rested in her lap but that the long needles in her hands remained motionless. Houston, his dog, curled up in the aisle by Ruth’s feet.
Traitor.
As if she sensed Noah’s gaze, her head tilted up. Her green eyes widened over the dark circles underneath them. “Did you need something?”
“No. Make sure your seat belts are fastened, folks. We’ll be there shortly.” After twisting around to face the front of the plane again his fingers tightened on the yoke. He needed something, all right. But Ruth Fontaine wasn’t the answer. He wanted the pain to go away. He wanted the clock to spin back three years so he could relive that last day with Jeremy and Michelle and keep them from riding their bikes to the grocery store.
He wanted his old life back.
But most of all, he wanted to know why the God he’d loved with all his heart had forsaken him and left him to wander alone and troubled.
Relief filled Ruth when the wheels of the plane touched the tarmac. After placing her knitting in her duffel bag, she bowed her head and clutched her hands together, her lips forming the prayer she always whispered once they were on the ground. Thank you, Lord, for our safe return. Please guide the surgeon’s hand in placing the organ You made available to us and grant the recipient a speedy recovery. Your will be done. Amen.
Her job was done for tonight. Once the ambulance carried the heart and her teammates away, Ruth hitched her duffel bag on her shoulder and turned to face the pilots. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you around.”
“My pleasure. Good night,” Brad responded and waved.
Noah cracked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine,” Ruth said, and before she had a chance to change her mind, Noah turned around and started writing in some type of log.
Fatigue followed her down the steps, across the tarmac and into the dimly lit parking lot where she spied her white Accord parked on the far end. Something didn’t look right. Unease scraped her spine and her body protested the pace. She should have taken Noah up on his offer to escort her to her car even if she’d had to wait a few minutes for him to finish his work. She quickly disabled the alarm, unlocked and opened the door and then slipped inside.
She hadn’t driven more than a few yards when the thumping noise started and the steering wheel tugged beneath her hands. Now she knew why her car had looked odd. “Great. Just great. Not now, God. Please. Not now.”
Her grip tightened. Since she could never fall asleep right away after a donation, a cup of tea, a bath and some Ben & Jerry’s were on the agenda for the rest of her evening, not a flat tire.
She pulled the car into the empty space beside a white truck, put it in park and stepped out. Walking around her car, she spied the problem. The right rear tire was flat. She kicked it and winced. Ouch. Now her toe throbbed. Next time she’d do better to remember to wear steel-toed shoes when taking out her frustration on a hard, inanimate object.
With help from the overhead light in the parking lot, Ruth rummaged through her purse. She pulled out yesterday’s gas receipt, a pen and then a card from her wallet and dialed her emergency car service. The not-so-distant wail of an emergency vehicle competed with a landing plane as she explained her situation.
“An hour? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She rolled her eyes. Their promptness left a lot to be desired as the bored voice on the other end droned away with some excuse. “Yes, I understand. I know it’s late.”
Ruth disconnected.
She glanced at her watch. Ten o’clock. Being stranded in an almost deserted parking lot at night made her more than a bit uneasy. A million butterflies took flight in her stomach. Especially when she heard the echo of footsteps approaching. She might just have to attempt to change the tire herself in a minute.
Ruth positioned her car keys in her hand to use them as a weapon if needed. Right. As if a small piec
e of metal could do much damage. The thought of taking one of the self-defense classes at the YMCA she belonged to struck her as a good idea. Jumping back inside her car, she locked the doors and waited for whoever caused those footsteps to go away.
Suddenly, two familiar figures emerged from the darkness. Ruth’s grip on her keys relaxed as Noah’s agitated gait and Houston’s boundless energy brought them to the vehicle next to hers. She watched Noah pause, take a few steps around the back of her car and then disappear. Houston barked. A few seconds later, she saw the pilot stand up and approach the driver side door, his dog at his heels.
With a forced smile, Ruth flipped on the ignition key and rolled down her window. Too bad she hadn’t pulled into the spot next to Brad’s car, wherever that was. No. Her knight in tarnished armor had to be the man least happy to see her. “Flat tire.”
“I see.” His lips formed a straight line.
“Don’t worry. The situation’s under control.” Ruth’s words held more conviction than she actually felt. She’d never changed a tire in her life, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of doing it. She’d just never had the opportunity. She could probably have it fixed by the time the other help arrived.
“Please pop the trunk, and I’ll change it for you.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ve got it covered.”
Noah scraped a hand through his hair and stared at her.
“Look, Ruth. It’s late. Your car is disabled. I want to go home, but my conscience won’t allow me to leave you here stranded in the middle of the airport parking lot, which if you haven’t noticed is not exactly teeming with life right now.”
Ruth thought about her options. Wait in the dark for the tow truck to arrive, do it herself or let the handsome pilot wrapped in a blanket of sorrow put her spare on.
The pint of ice cream in her freezer called to her. Banana ice cream, fudge and walnuts just waiting to pass her lips and caress her taste buds. Fine. Ruth would watch Noah change it so she’d know how to do it next time.
“Oh, all right.” She popped the trunk and stepped out of the car. Noah had to be able to find the spare tire first. Her body protested the sudden movement as she strode to the rear and an incredulous looking Noah.
“What is all this?” Noah struggled with a large, blue duffel bag.
Out of habit, Ruth reached in and grabbed a business card from the side pocket and handed it to him before she hoisted the second bag out of the trunk. “CPR mannequins. I teach CPR classes on the side. I taught a class on Wednesday and forgot to take them out.”
Noah fumbled with the bag and dropped it, just missing his toes and his dog. He couldn’t have been more surprised than if the woman had said body parts. Death. Life. What a contradiction. An oxymoron. He stared at the blonde, trying to figure out how such two different people could reside in the same body. Only confusion racked his brain. Shaking his head cleared his mind of his thoughts, but the image of her wide, green eyes remained. So did her signature scent. So why did he tuck her card in his pocket instead of handing it back?
“The heat can’t be good for them.” Stepping away, Noah opened his tailgate to put the bags on in order to keep the bottoms clean. When he set his down, the contents hit the metal with a thud. No response. Ruth lugged the second one and set it down next to the first.
With the trunk now empty, he rolled back the carpet, exposing what he hoped was a useful spare and the tire iron. He handed her the L-shaped tool, then he tested the spare tire, glad to see it still held air.
“I have a blanket in the backseat of my truck. Could you get it out please?” Noah unscrewed the metal tab.
“Sure.”
He felt her gaze on his back as he wedged a rock behind her other rear tire to keep the car from moving while he jacked it up. A bead of sweat trailed down his cheek as he loosened the lug nuts in the dim light cast by the moon and overhead light fixture. After he unscrewed them, he placed them in the exact position from where he’d taken them from her tire. Probably a little fastidious on his part, but he firmly believed each nut belonged to each individual screw.
Just as man and woman were created for each other.
But his other half had died and nobody could take her place.
As Ruth called the car service to cancel her request, Noah worked off his anger on the tire and let it dissipate in the stifling silence around them. He threw the useless piece of rubber into the well vacated by the spare, the loud thunk breaking the silence.
The sooner he changed her tire, the sooner he could slip back into the life of limbo he’d been living for the past three years and forget the memories the woman dredged up.
Now that they were alone, Ruth decided to speak up. She coordinated entire teams during the donation process, so she could handle Noah. Before she changed her mind, she tapped him on the shoulder as he put the spare tire on.
His unguarded expression of sadness and hurt when he turned to acknowledge her made her heart flip. She clenched her damp hand around the stress ball inside her pocket again to keep from reaching out to comfort him.
“Yes?” His gaze roved over her features before a tiny smile split his solemn expression.
Her mouth opened but no words tumbled out. She clamped it shut. Heat crept to her cheeks again, and from experience, she knew they were as red as the blouse she wore underneath her lab coat. Her blushing had always proved to be a challenge—and the brunt of a lot of jokes from her colleagues. As if being a blonde and slightly overweight wasn’t enough. What she wouldn’t give for a whole garden full of weeds right now to take out her frustration.
“You wanted to say something?” Noah replaced the lug nuts and lowered the car back to the ground before he tightened them.
Ruth composed herself and straightened her shoulders. “I’m curious. Why do you think my team and I are vultures?”
“I was hoping you hadn’t heard that.” Noah stood and put her jack away before he dusted his hands.
“Well, I did. Care to clarify that comment?”
His unforgiving laughter skittered across her skin, raising goose bumps as he stood and threw the rock that he’d used to keep the car from rolling toward the chain link fence. “Not really. Let’s just say I don’t care for what you or your team of medical professionals do for a living.”
Ruth’s attention froze on Noah again, who now stood a few feet from her. The bleak expression carved into his face tugged at the thin string that seemed to connect them together at a subconscious level.
She shuddered as cold seeped into her pores. The overhead parking lot light cast his face into a series of shadows. She stepped back and bumped into the hard metal of the passenger side door. Noah’s words confirmed what she’d already suspected when she’d overheard their conversation. David had hated her job, too. At the time they were dating, Ruth had worked as an E.R. nurse and had just started to volunteer with the children. The irony that David worked in medical sales yet couldn’t handle not being the center of Ruth’s world was not lost on her.
After David’s defection and the death of another child she’d grown close to in the Children’s Center, she used the opportunity to become a coordinator and lessen the incompleteness she felt.
“My job brings hope and life to people who desperately need it.” As an agent of life, she stood on the Lord’s side to help others in need. Especially to those who’d drawn the short end of the stick when it came to functioning organs. Like her sister Rachel. Passion filled her voice. “Why can’t you see that?
“You and your God represent death.” His whisper sliced open her emotions and exposed them like raw, open wounds.
Ruth didn’t have to guess at his spirituality anymore. What had happened in his life to cause such a rift between Noah and God? She swallowed and fingered the child’s butterfly charm bracelet around her wrist. The smooth metal soothed her. The gift that child, Bonnie, had given her before she died before a suitable organ could be found was all the reminder she needed.
No semi-stranger, no matter what his affect on her, was going to tell her any differently. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Thanks for changing my tire. I’ll see you around.”
Chapter Three
“Ruth, wait.” Noah stopped her. The warmth of her skin under his palm shook his equilibrium. How long had it been since he’d touched a woman outside of a simple handshake?
Before the all-merciful God Noah used to worship took Michelle and Jeremy away from him; that’s when. Noah hadn’t understood why then, and he still didn’t understand why now. And when Noah had needed Him the most, God seemed to have taken a vacation and left him alone to deal with the emptiness and the loneliness.
Ruth placed her hand on top of his in comfort. That one touch, as if she understood him and the conflict warring inside him, undid the bands constraining his emotions. His heartbeat kicked into high gear the same time he noticed she wore no rings. Not that that meant anything. She could have a boyfriend.
“How old is this spare?” Noah continued moments later, thrusting his other thoughts back into the dark recesses of his mind. He glanced at his watch. Twenty after ten. Good thing he’d decided to tape his regular late night shows since seeing them at their regularly scheduled time wasn’t an option anymore.
“Five years. Probably as old as the car. Why?” Ruth drew her eyebrows together.
“It may not get you home, and you look ready to drop. How far away do you live?” Noah wrestled with his conscience and scraped a hand through his hair. If her spare blew, she’d be stranded along the road. Not an option. Even in the dim light filtering down from the streetlamp, he could see the fatigue shadowing the delicate skin under her eyes.
“About ten miles from here. How do you know I may not get home? I see people drive around with these all the time.”
“Experience. I’ll follow you.” Michelle had had a similar incidence occur early in their marriage. Plus Noah’s mother would have his hide if she found out he let Ruth drive home without making sure she made it safely.