Everyone Loves a Hero

by Marie Force

  “Glad you approve.” He introduced Olivia to Grace’s family and got everyone loaded into the plane. The four passengers sat two abreast, facing each other. Cole stashed Grace’s wheelchair in the cargo bay beneath the plane.

  From the co-pilot’s seat, Olivia watched him walk around the plane checking and poking and kicking various parts. When he had completed his inspection, he went through the same process inside before he fired up the engines, typed something into the keyboard in front of him, donned a headset, and requested permission for takeoff from the air traffic control tower.

  While he waited for clearance, he glanced over at her. “Okay?”

  She nodded even as her stomach did cartwheels. Things happen in threes. Stop!

  He picked up another headset and handed it to her. “Want to listen in?”

  “I’d love to.”

  The plane rolled forward as he engaged a dizzying array of switches and dials and buttons while talking to the controllers.

  Olivia couldn’t follow much of the rapid-fire exchange between Cole and the controllers, but she gathered they had assigned him to a runway.

  They taxied for several minutes behind a Capital 737, which took off just ahead of them.

  Cole held the mouthpiece to the side, tipped his head, and called to the passengers, “We’re cleared for takeoff. Ready?”

  “Ready,” Grace replied.

  Olivia found takeoff to be a whole different experience from the front seat. Lifting into the air, she couldn’t take her eyes off Cole as he guided the plane up and out of the busy air space around O’Hare. His handsome face was set with concentration, every movement deliberate and precise. She was full of admiration and respect, not only for the proficiency with which he flew the plane but for what he was doing for Grace and her family.

  They were airborne for nearly thirty minutes before she heard his voice again and realized he was talking to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m doing great. I love the view from up here.” They had found a sunny, clear day above a light layer of clouds. “I forgot to ask how long the flight is.”

  “Almost three hours.”

  “Why aren’t you doing anything right now? Shouldn’t you be driving or something?”

  “Autopilot.”

  “And does this autopilot know what he’s doing?”

  He snickered. “I sure as hell hope so.”

  “So you get us off the ground and then turn things over to Mr. Autopilot. I see how this works.”

  “You were impressed. Admit it.”

  “For a minute or two, but I’m over it now that I know you don’t really do anything.”

  “Then I’ll let you tell Mr. Autopilot how to get us back down.”

  “Since you two seem to have a pretty good groove, I’ll leave that to you.”

  He laughed and made an adjustment to one of the dials.

  “Why did they call you Jackpot in the Navy?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “The picture on the wall of your office.”

  His expression sheepish, he said, “It was because I never missed.”

  “Missed what?”

  “My targets during training—landing, shooting, carrier landings.”

  “Ever?”

  “Not often.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  He shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “It’s unheard of, isn’t it?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I’ll bet you never missed with the women, either, Jackpot.”

  “Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “That had nothing to do with the nickname.”

  “Sure, it didn’t.” Olivia laughed at his obvious discomfort with the conversation. “Were there a lot of them?”

  “What? Targets?”

  “Women. Before all the Captain Incredible business?”

  He glanced over at her. “A few.”

  “Are we talking a dozen, two dozen, three?”

  “What does it matter?” he asked. “There’s only you now.”

  Olivia nibbled on her thumbnail, wishing she had the nerve to ask her many questions.

  “What?”

  “How long ago did you break up with the last one?” When he didn’t answer, she looked over to find his jaw pulsing with tension.

  “Recently.”

  Alarmed, she gasped. “How recent?”

  “Look, Liv, I told you—I used to be kind of a dog.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “But I’ve changed my ways since I met you.”

  “There hasn’t been anyone else since we, you know—”

  “No! God, no.”

  Olivia released a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “What if you get bored being with just one woman after all that variety?”

  “Baby, if I get to spend the next sixty years with you, it won’t be long enough. I’ve never felt anything even close to the way I feel when I’m with you.”

  Delighted and relieved by his declaration, Olivia sat back in her seat.

  “Are we okay?” he asked.

  She squeezed his hand and then released it to retie her ponytail. “We’re great. Thanks for answering my questions.”

  “Any time.”

  Olivia glanced over her shoulder at their passengers. “What’s wrong with her? With Grace?”

  “Leukemia,” he sighed. “They thought they had it beat, but she relapsed about six months ago.” He lowered his voice. “I haven’t seen her in a while, and it was kind of shocking how bad she looks. She’s lost all her hair—a second time—in the last month.”

  Olivia shook her head with dismay. “And yet she’s still so upbeat and happy.”

  “I know. That’s why she’s one of my favorites. She’s getting the best possible care at MD Anderson, so we’re hopeful.”

  “It must be hard for you to be around people with cancer after what happened to your mother.”

  “It can be. It brings back all the memories of when she was going through treatments we knew were futile. But I hope she’d approve of what I’m doing. It feels good to help people, even if it’s hard sometimes.”

  Olivia reached out to him.

  He closed his hand around hers and looked over at her with one of the half smiles she loved so much.

  She had worried about what it would be like to fly in a small plane, but as they soared through the sky holding hands, she realized she was in the midst of yet another unforgettable experience with him.

  ***

  As they drew nearer to Houston, he talked to air traffic control again. After he got a weather report, he turned to Grace and her family. “We might have a few bumps going into Hobby. They’ve got rain showers in the area. Nothing to worry about, though.”

  “Okay,” Grace’s father answered.

  “Keep those seatbelts on,” Cole added.

  Olivia could see the darker clouds in the distance. She clutched her damp hands together in her lap, trying not to think about the number three.

  “Hey.”

  She glanced over at him.

  “No biggie. Pinky swear.”

  Grateful for his attempt at levity, she forced a smile for his benefit, focused on breathing, and left him alone to do his thing. He had told her there were two primary airports in Houston—George Bush Intercontinental and William P. Hobby, which was closest to MD Anderson.

  The plane bumped and rolled through the stormy clouds.

  Olivia told herself over and over—Jackpot never misses his targets. If she hadn’t been trying so hard not to embarrass herself in front of him, she would have cried like a baby. It was so dark inside the clouds that it might have been nighttime rather than two in the afternoon. Just when she thought she would go nuts if she had to hold it together for another second, they finally emerged from the clouds.

  When she saw the runway through the rain, she wanted to sing a hallelujah. She felt the plane losing altitude and watched in amazement as C
ole put it down right on the dotted line. Jackpot. Releasing a long, deep breath, she tried to relax as they taxied in. A car waited for Grace and her family, and Cole helped them off before he came back for Olivia.

  He held out a hand to her. “No biggie, right?” he said with that cocky grin.

  She took his hand and hoped her legs would hold up under her. “Of course not.”

  “Were you freaking out? I’d understand if you were. You can admit it.”

  “Freaking out is for wimps. I had full confidence in you.”

  He laughed and gently cuffed her jaw. “Whatever you say, tough guy.”

  ***

  They flew back to Chicago alone the next day. Grace’s father had called Cole that morning to tell him they’d encountered a few complications and Grace wouldn’t be released until later in the week. Cole had offered to come back for them whenever they were ready to go home.

  “I’d wait for them,” he told Olivia, “but the owner of the plane needs it tomorrow.”

  “So you’ll fly a different one to get them?”

  “Probably. I’m sorry this is taking up so much time this week.”

  “Please don’t apologize. It’s for a good cause.” She paused, not sure if she should ask. “He didn’t say what kind of complications?”

  “No.”

  She could tell the news had depressed him, so she tried to get his mind off it. “Houston was great.”

  “It’s a fun city.”

  “I’ve stayed in more hotels since I met you than I had in my whole life.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll show you Chicago.”

  “Or we can stay home and do nothing. You don’t have to entertain me. This has been enough of an adventure to last me a while.”

  “Oh, come on. This is nothing.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are we really going to have that conversation again?”

  Chicago was blanketed in snow the next day, and since he was still coughing, Olivia insisted they stay home. With Tucker and most of Cole’s other Chicago friends away on a holiday ski trip, they had nothing but peaceful time to themselves.

  Cole checked with Grace’s father that night and learned her grandfather had joined the family in Houston. Grace was to be released the next morning, so Cole made arrangements to meet them at noon.

  “Shit,” he grumbled when he hung up. “I can’t take you with me this time. The grandfather is coming back to Chicago with us.”

  “That’s no problem. I can hang out here and do some painting. I owe Paolo a few more pieces for the show, so don’t worry about me.”

  “Are you sure? I’ll be gone most of the day.”

  “I’m positive.”

  He buried his face in her hair and hugged her tight against him. “I don’t want to be away from you for a minute, let alone a whole day.”

  Olivia rested her head on his chest, steeped in the simple magic that came with being in his arms and knowing there was nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.

  “We’d better get to bed. You’ve got to get up early.”

  “It’s only eight o’clock.”

  “I didn’t say we were going to sleep.”

  “Oh, well, since you put it that way.”

  She cried out with surprise and laughter when he flipped her over his shoulder and carried her upstairs.

  ***

  He was gone when she woke up the next morning. She shifted onto his pillow and drank in his scent, wondering how many hours she had to wait until she could be with him again. He had said he’d be back by five at the latest, but there was always a chance of delay.

  Thinking about him, she stayed there a long time before she got up, showered, and put on the old T-shirt he had loaned her for painting. After breakfast, she spread newspapers over his dining room table and set up her paints.

  A short time later, she heard a key in the front door. Her first thought was that Grace had developed another complication. Otherwise why would he be back so soon? Jumping up from the table, she went into the living room just as a tall, blonde woman rolled a suitcase into the house.

  Dressed in a long, black, leather coat tied at her waist, she wore her hair in a fashionable twist and had diamond earrings that rivaled Olivia’s in size. Over her shoulder she carried a dry-cleaning bag, and a wad of mail was tucked under her arm.

  Dropping her keys on the table inside the door, she looked up and saw Olivia. “Hello,” she said with a warm smile. “You must be Olivia, Cole’s sister’s friend from Washington, right? He mentioned you might be crashing here this week while you’re working on a school project.”

  Olivia stood frozen in place.

  “I’m sorry.” She spoke with an accent that sounded Texan. “I’ve totally startled you.” Extending a hand to Olivia, she added, “I’m Natasha. Cole’s fiancée.”

  Mute with shock and confusion, Olivia let the other woman reach for her hand and shake it. This could not be happening. Could it?

  “Where is he anyway? I thought he was off this week.”

  “Houston,” Olivia mumbled.

  “Oh, Flights for Life. That’s odd. He usually goes on Tuesdays. And he’s been so sick. I’m surprised he could fly.”

  Olivia never took her eyes off the other woman as she hung her coat in the hall closet. She was, without a doubt, the most striking woman Olivia had ever seen, and she was clearly right at home in Cole’s townhouse.

  “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Natasha said with a delicate laugh. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. He didn’t tell you I’d be home today because he didn’t know. I’ve been in Europe for the holidays with my family, but I missed him too much to stay gone through New Year’s so I decided to surprise him. Besides, with the wedding in April, we have so much to do. I need to grab him when he’s home. Trying to get that man to make a decision is like trying to nail down Jell-O.”

  Feeling like a thousand-pound weight had landed on her chest, Olivia struggled to breathe.

  “Cole told me you’re an artist.” Wearing a plum suit that might have been Chanel, Natasha looked Olivia over from head to toe. “You must’ve been, um, working.”

  Feeling like a total frump in her oversized T-shirt and sweats, Olivia wanted to curl up and die from shock and disbelief.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she finally managed to say. “He doesn’t have a fiancée.”

  Natasha’s jaw shifted into an unreadable expression. “We had a little fight a month or so ago.” She waved her left hand dismissively. “But we’ll get past it. We always do. When you’ve been together as long as we have, you’re bound to have a dust-up every now and then.”

  Olivia’s mouth fell open when she saw the huge engagement ring on Natasha’s finger. Oh, my God, please tell me this is a bad dream. Please.

  “Olivia? Are you all right?” Natasha rushed over and helped her to the sofa. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  Since Olivia was trying hard not to be, it didn’t take much encouragement on Natasha’s part to get her to sit down.

  “Oh, honey.” Natasha’s voice dripped with sympathy as she ran her hand up and down Olivia’s back. “Do you have feelings for him? I mean, I can understand why you would. He’s so amazing, isn’t he?” Natasha sighed. “I hope he hasn’t led you to believe… Well, men can be such pigs, can’t they? Ever since I moved my stuff in here—those are my boxes on the third floor—he’s been acting funny, but I wouldn’t have figured him for a last fling. That’s so disappointing.”

  “A last fling,” Olivia stammered.

  “I’m sure he even paraded you out in front of his friends. They probably acted like they love you, but trust me, they’ll turn on you the second something goes wrong. They were only nice to you because they don’t want him to marry me. Good thing we don’t need their approval.”

  Everything inside Olivia had gone cold, and suddenly she knew if she didn’t leave right away, she was going to be sick all over Natasha’s Chanel suit. “Excuse
me.” She flew up the stairs. In Cole’s bedroom, she changed into jeans and a sweater and stuffed the rest of her belongings into her bag. She left the new iPod sitting on his bedside table.

  With shaking hands, she called information to get a phone number for a cab, telling herself all the while to stay focused on getting out of there. She could lose it later.

  Fifteen minutes later, she heard the honk of the cab’s horn outside and went downstairs. Pulling on her coat, she wondered where Cole’s fiancée had gone. The smell of her French perfume lingered in the air, so she must have been close by. Olivia couldn’t have cared less. She had heard more than enough. With one last look at the room where they had spent so many lovely hours together—and where the whole thing had come crashing down on her—she went out the door, down the stairs, and into the waiting cab.

  Only when the car had pulled away from his house did she allow herself to collapse into tears.

  Chapter 28

  Olivia’s cell phone started ringing at six o’clock, which was four o’clock in Chicago.

  “You’re not going to talk to him?” Jenny asked.

  Olivia swiped at the endless stream of tears. “What’s there to say?”

  “I don’t believe any of this. All this time he’s had a fiancée? I don’t buy it.”

  “You didn’t see her. She came in like she owned the place wearing a big, old diamond on her left hand.”

  “If she’s living there, why would he ask you to live with him?”

  “Because he knew I wouldn’t do it,” Olivia said bitterly. “I’ve got school and my whole life here.” She’d had ample time on the flight back to Washington—on another airline—to dissect every moment they had spent together, every moment of his last fling. “I knew something was going on. I never imagined this, but I knew there was something.”

  Her phone rang again.

  “If you don’t get it, I’m going to,” Jenny said.

  “Don’t.”

  With a defiant look at Olivia, Jenny reached for the phone and turned on the speaker. “Cole, it’s Jenny.”

  “Jenny?”

  “Olivia is with me at my house.”

  “What? What the hell?”

  “She met Natasha.”