by Kim Watters
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I used my siblings a lot.”
“That sounds dire.” Noah eyed the instrument panel. The constant familiar of the screens and dials in front of him brought comfort. He’d loved sitting in the copilot’s seat in his dad’s plane learning everything there was to know about flying. About life. About love.
His parents’ marriage still remained strong, while Noah’s had barely lasted a decade. But the focus wasn’t about Noah or his parents right now. It should be on Ruth and getting her back to Scottsdale as quickly as possible and out of his plane and out of his life. He didn’t like the sudden camaraderie.
“It was dire. Just ask my brother, Robbie. I convinced him to put his finger in between the spokes of my bike tire before he spun it.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. He almost chopped it off.” It wasn’t satisfaction he heard in her voice but more disappointment and censure. Not something he associated with the woman sitting next to him.
“Remind me not to go bike riding with you.” Noah’s eyebrows raised a fraction. He wrapped his fingers around the yoke even tighter to keep from reaching for her hand. “How old were you?”
“Almost seven. Old enough to know better.”
“You were still pretty young. How old was Robbie?”
“Four.” Her sigh echoed inside the headset covering his ears. “But he’d just recovered from pneumonia. I was supposed to take care of him, not hurt him.”
“I can’t see you hurting anyone or anything. You were just a kid. I think you’re being too hard on yourself.” Against his better judgment, Noah reached over the console in between them and placed his hand over hers. His thumb traced the delicate skin on the back of her hand. Soft and smooth like Ruth. Her soft gasp filled his ears. He stopped short of lifting the tips of her fingers to his lips. “Did you get your brother’s finger fixed up, or did he have to go to the hospital?”
“No, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. I think I used every bandage in the house, too. My parents still had to take him to the emergency room with all us siblings in tow.” At some memory, Ruth’s lightly tinted lips created a welcoming smile. He liked seeing her that way. “Going anywhere with six children was always a trial.”
“I’d say. I can’t imagine going anywhere with a brood that size, much less a hospital.” Noah gazed at her. “You loved fixing up your brother, didn’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”
“I did. I just wish I could fix everyone.” Ruth paused.
Shifting uncomfortably, she pulled her hand from his, leaned behind her seat and then reached into her bag. The sudden loss of contact bothered him. A few misguided strands of hair tickled his arm before she tucked the strays behind the headset and he wondered how she’d look if she ever wore her hair loose instead of bound by elastic. He wondered how unbound curly, blond hair would feel in contrast to long, dark brown straight hair. He also wondered why he continued to think thoughts of Ruth outside the realms of work.
“Piece of candy? It’s not chocolate, but it’s still sweet.”
After Ruth’s fingers mangled the wrapper, Noah’s voice dropped to a whisper, afraid she’d notice the tremor in his voice. “No thanks. So what happened to your brother’s finger?”
“It’s still a little crooked today, but he fully recovered and still blames me.”
Noah stared out at the vast expanse of sky outside the tiny front window. This quiet, almost solemn woman made him even more uneasy. She affected him in more ways than he cared to admit and he wanted her smile to return. “At least you didn’t draw a mustache on him in permanent marker.”
“A mustache?” It worked. Ruth laughed at his outright suggestion. “Was it long and thin or big and bushy?” She glanced at him, and he knew she was trying to visualize the boy he’d been with marker in his face.
“She covered half my face. Right before all family photos, too. My mom still has that picture!”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing, Still, I can’t believe you’d allow that to happen.”
Noah shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I was three and didn’t know any better.”
“So you have a sister who’s quite a bit older than you?”
He noticed Ruth look around for a place to throw the empty wrapper. “Ten years. I was an oops baby. Here. I’ll take that.”
Noah held out his hand. After Ruth handed the crumpled cellophane paper to him, he tucked it in the small plastic bag hanging by his right knee.
“Thanks. Sometimes those are the best of all,” Ruth said quietly. “All babies are a blessing no matter when they make their appearance.”
Sweat gathered on his forehead. Needing to change the subject, he inhaled sharply and grabbed a lungful of Ruth. “So why are you so afraid of flying?”
Her laughter rang false. “What makes you think I’m afraid of flying around in a metal tube the size of a toilet paper roll that as far as I’m concerned defies the laws of gravity?”
Despite their recent exchange, Noah grinned at her choice of words.
“So have you always owned your own charter business?” Her question flipped the conversation back to him.
His gaze scanned the horizon again. “No. I flew for a commercial airline up until a few years ago.”
Ruth’s ability to draw the words out of him surprised Noah. His tongue responded to her question against his mind’s better judgment, and he suddenly found the need to release things he’d kept locked for three years.
Communicating with Ruth wasn’t as difficult as he’d imagined.
“What made you change?”
The words froze in his throat.
He left his employer right after the accident that changed how he viewed life and love and realized how short and meaningless his existence had become.
“It was time.” Noah remembered kissing his young son goodbye. The inadequate feeling and guilt he felt watching a team of medical professionals assemble to take pieces of Jeremy and scatter them across the country bombarded him. He’d never learned what happened.
His stomach roiled at the thought of the letters forwarded afterward by the Arizona Organ Donor Network. He hadn’t been able to read them. He couldn’t throw them away, either, because he’d be throwing another part of Jeremy away, so he’d hidden them in a box in his garage. Noah pushed a tear away before it had the nerve to fall. When would the pain go away?
Chapter Five
Back on the ground, soft moonlight filtered in through the cockpit window, surreal and fighting for space with the overhead lights. Tiredness had crept in while Noah wasn’t looking. His shoulder muscles felt like they were bunched into a pretzel.
No other planes fought for space on the runway, and he’d managed to land without incident despite the wet pavement. The water puddles around the Scottsdale airport glistened in the moonlight, and the fresh dampness seeped through the ventilation system. He loved the smell of the desert after a rain.
His gaze strayed to Ruth sleeping in the copilot’s seat with his dog on her lap. Lucky dog. She’d fallen asleep halfway through the flight. Noah taxied to his hangar, parked and removed his headset. Wiping the sudden band of sweat from his brow, he looked over at Ruth’s hands.
Short, manicured nails tipped her delicate, nurturing fingers. His hand inched toward hers in remembrance of how well her right one had fit inside his. He forced it to his side.
Noah unhooked his seat belt. Houston stirred and raced to the door, waiting for freedom. “Ruth. We’re here.”
Her figure remained motionless except for the rise and fall of her chest. The white shirt with Houston’s muddy paw prints on the front accentuated the curves she usually hid. The sudden need for a glass of water consumed him. As if mere liquid could quench the thirst for human companionship Ruth created inside him.
“Ruth?” he said again, a little louder this time.
Still no movement from the oth
er side of the plane but Houston whined at the confinement. “In a bit, boy. Just be patient.”
Noah stretched and proceeded to scratch the needed data into his flight log. Anything to drag his attention away from Ruth. Too bad his eyes had other ideas.
He took another glance at his passenger, so still, so peaceful and definitely in need of sleep if she hadn’t rested since she’d been dropped off yesterday. Much as he longed to deplane and call it a night, he didn’t have the heart to wake her.
Noah settled back in his seat and looked at her. Houston stared back at him with a woeful expression underneath his shaggy hair. Noah’s lips twisted into a wry smile. Pulling a dog treat from the box he kept by his seat, he held it out to Houston. “Come here, boy.”
This time his dog obliged. “You’re part cat, aren’t you? Only willing to come if there’s something in it for you.”
Houston jumped up onto his lap, circled a few times and plopped down where he could still see Ruth. Noah scratched him behind the ears and sighed. “You like her, don’t you?”
Houston whined, looking for another treat.
“Don’t get any ideas.” He whispered as his hand stilled on the warm, squiggly body.
He looked around the darkened plane, the one he’d christened Michelle Marie. His late wife’s insurance payout had made it possible to start the business. He’d gladly give it all back to have his family by his side.
Nothing could ever make what he’d lost right. Nothing.
Especially the woman sleeping so peacefully in the seat beside him. Sometime during the flight, she taken out her ponytail and her riot of curly blond hair haloed her oval face. A dusting of freckles sprinkled her nose and cheeks. Not even remotely close to his wife’s exotic dark looks and doe-eyed innocence. Where Michelle stood almost eye to eye with him, the top of Ruth’s head barely reached his chin. He’d noticed that the first day he’d met her. His wife’s slender, model-thin build contrasted with the nurse’s soft, cushiony-in-all-the-right-places physique.
She interested him, but he couldn’t do a thing about it.
He needed to get Ruth out of his plane—better yet, out of his life. Could his company survive if he cancelled the contract? Possibly, if he picked up two or three more. Would his friendship with Brad? Doubtful. They’d been through too much together, and he loved him like the brother he’d never had, but Brad would view canceling the contract as a betrayal.
Noah squeezed the bridge of his nose. The air inside the plane grew uncomfortable, and Noah needed to move before he nodded off like his passenger.
His nails dug into his palm. He concentrated on the pain and not the woman beside him. At the Rio Salado City airport, he’d noticed Ruth had dimples. Generous and deep, like the emotions he suspected she hid underneath her professional exterior. But it was an illusion.
Ruth was a person he couldn’t understand. Another ambulance chaser, but she didn’t want a lawsuit; she wanted body parts. Noah growled, causing Houston to jump from his lap.
Unable to remain seated, he unfolded himself from the seat, strode to the door and then lowered the staircase. Noah whistled to his dog. “Come on, boy.”
Ten minutes later he stood over the copilot’s seat. The longer he stared at the coordinator, the harder it became to remember Michelle. A connection lingered between them when he leaned over to gently shake Ruth’s arm again. “Ruth? It’s time to wake up.”
Something warm settled on Ruth’s arm. She lashed out at the object disturbing her sleep. Funny. She couldn’t move.
“Ruth, wake up.”
That most incessant voice peppered her dream of running through the fields near her parents’ home near Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with Rachel. The Rachel that would always look eight years old, no matter how much Ruth aged.
“Go away. Leave me alone.” She tried to turn over, but something constricted her movements. Panic set in and she started to thrash about.
“We’re back in Scottsdale.”
Ruth awoke with a start and stared into Noah’s eyes. For a second, her lungs forgot to function as she allowed herself to be carried away by the current between the two of them. Her gaze slid to his rugged lips. The unspoken question of how they would feel against hers fizzled in the stillness of the night. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Oh. Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. I’ll be out of your way in a second.”
But when Ruth’s unsteady hands went to release the seat belt, Noah beat her to it. His thoughtfulness surprised her until his remote expression distanced her. After grabbing her duffel bag, she stood and then threw the strap over her shoulder. She moved to the door. “Thanks for the lift, Noah. I’ll see you around.”
As she clutched the handle on the staircase to keep from tumbling down the steps, a sense of déjà-vu engulfed her. With luck, only an impatient Houston greeted her and not another flat tire. At the bottom of the staircase, a huge yawn emerged. As long as things went right, she’d be home and asleep in thirty minutes tops.
“So did you get any rest in Rio Salado City?” Noah spoke softly from the top of the steps as if afraid to upset the stillness of the night.
Heat flared in her cheeks again. Her sleeping arrangements were not something she usually talked about with someone who wasn’t a complete stranger, yet not a friend either. “I managed to rest a little at the hospital and while waiting for you.”
Noah raked a hand through his hair and descended the stairs. “That’s not enough. I’m almost finished here. Please let me drive you home.”
Houston barked and jumped up on Ruth’s leg, his tail wagging furiously behind him, his tongue dropping out of his smiling mouth.
“Look, Noah. I appreciate the offer, but that’s not necessary. Unless I have another flat tire.” Her sigh dissipated into the darkness. “I’m used to operating on little sleep. I’ll drive myself home. Besides, I have somewhere important to be in Phoenix tomorrow afternoon, and I don’t want to put you out or anything.” She wouldn’t miss her friend’s funeral no matter how tired she was. Margaret Ann’s loss had hit her hard. More sadness crept in and zapped any remaining energy. Her shoulders slumped.
“It is necessary. It’s past midnight, and you look like you’re ready to drop. I’ll pick you up in the morning in plenty of time to get you where you need to be.” After her nod, he pulled her duffel bag from her shoulder and slung it over his.
After securing the plane, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to his truck, Houston running happily in front of them. Even in her fatigued state, she responded to his gentleness.
Silence surrounded them on the short ride. Even the dog remained quiet, occasionally popping his head up to look out the side window.
Outside her house, Noah parked his truck. He placed his hand on her arm to stop her from opening the door. His fingers touched hers for a moment, the contact comforting before his hand fell away to fish a flashlight from his glove compartment. “You should leave a light on.”
Ruth groaned silently. As usual, she’d forgotten to leave the porch light on. She doubted nothing more than that crazed neighbor cat hid in the bushes, but it felt good to know Noah was with her and that despite his actions and expressions, he did care for her a little. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t like to waste electricity or broadcast that I’m not home.”
“They make motion lights, you know.” Noah got out of his truck and strode around to the passenger side to open her door. “Houston, let Ruth out.”
After the dog jumped into the driver’s seat, Noah helped her down and escorted her to the unlit front porch, his fingers cupping her elbow as if they belonged there.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Usually it’s not an issue.” With the help of the beam from his flashlight, Ruth unlocked her door. Bleary eyed, sad and in need of human contact, she turned around and hugged him.
Noah almost imploded at her compassionate touch. Instinctively, he put his arms around her in return. He buried his nose in her hair, her uni
que scent mingling with the onset of early morning. He could get used to this. Forcing air from his lungs, he set her away.
“Thanks for the ride, Noah. It’s been a rough day. I’m actually more tired than I realized. Bye.”
Sadness hovered in the humid air around them. Her imperceptible nod told him she understood. When she stepped inside her doorway, loneliness scraped at his memories. He kidded himself into believing peace existed inside the four lonely white walls of his condo that mocked his attempt to lead a normal life.
“See you tomorrow. Call me when you’re ready. I’ll be at the office.” Noah spoke to the white painted door, still feeling her warmth.
“Are you feeling okay?” Noah sat down on the edge of his office manager’s wood desk. He carefully looked at Hannah. Dark circles under her eyes contrasted against her peaches and cream complexion, and she didn’t have her normal sparkle.
“I’m just tired, that’s all.” Hannah’s gaze fell over his right shoulder. Her hands trembled slightly as she toyed with the pen she’d used to make some notes on a recent contract.
Now that he thought about it, Hannah hadn’t been herself for the last few days, but Noah had been focused on his own problems.
“Are you sure that’s all?”
“Positive.” She still refused to meet his gaze.
Noah knew the truth hovered behind her lips. But trying to get them to slip past the rigid wall the office manager erected would be harder than the home football team actually winning the championship any time soon.
“Maybe you should take a vacation day tomorrow.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine. Really. I’ll need my vacation time later in the year.” A shadow of fear flickered across her features before she masked it with the cool efficiency that had won her the job as office manager.
Noah didn’t deserve her.
Hardworking and honest to a fault, Hannah reminded him of someone else he knew, but that’s where the resemblance ended. That’s where he needed to end it.