Night Flight

by McKenna, Lindsay

  “Yeah, I’ll be glad to get it over with,” Sam muttered. It was quitting time, and most people had left. The way Lauren was hanging around, he knew she wanted to talk to him. Megan got off work in a half-hour, so he had the time.

  Shutting the desk drawer and locking it, he reared back in his chair and met her troubled gaze. “What’s wrong, Port?”

  She ran her finger along the polished surface of his desk. “The last two weeks have been rotten around here,” she said finally.

  Wasn’t that the truth? “It wasn’t your fault, Port,” he said, referring to the crash. Lauren had been visibly upset when she got back Sunday night and found out what had happened.

  Lauren sat down in the chair next to Holt’s desk. “I know it’s not a black eye on my record, Sam, but I somehow feel responsible. Could I have nipped Stang in the bud instead of letting him play his petty games with all of us?” Rubbing her brow, she frowned. “Right now, I’m really questioning my management skills.”

  “Don’t,” he warned her grimly. “Somebody like Jack is hard to deal with because what he does is subtle, and you can’t collect the kind of proof you need to haul him on the carpet.”

  “He really paid one hell of a price,” Lauren said and glanced up at him. “Paralyzed for life from the waist down.”

  The thought scared Holt to death. That could happen to him tomorrow morning. What if he couldn’t get past that barrier of fear that had been haunting him? What if he couldn’t concentrate? Only this time, it would be he and Port in the cockpit. It was bad enough he was there, without having her with him. Port was too vital to lose in a lousy crash caused by his inability to handle his fears. Pursing his lips, Sam said nothing, breaking out in a light sweat.

  “They’ve already left, you know,” Lauren said.

  “The Stangs?”

  “Yes. Melody had Jack transferred to a well-known hospital down in Los Angeles yesterday. I guess the moving trucks are coming in today.”

  “And then another house on Sharon Drive will be empty.”

  “Waiting for the next test pilot student to move in,” she agreed.

  “Life goes on, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “In a way, I’m glad the Air Force didn’t put Stang up for court-martial,” Sam said. “I think he got the ultimate prison sentence—confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”

  Lauren snorted softly. “Gossip going around says that Melody’s got him a vice president’s job lined up at her father’s bank in L.A.”

  “Jack will make out just fine. I miss the hell out of Curt, though.”

  Sadly, Lauren nodded. “I can’t believe it—a week after the crash, Curt resigned.”

  “And he’s already got a job as an aeronautical design engineer. Good money with banker’s hours to boot.” Sam smiled, trying to bolster her flagging spirits. “Come on, Port, we’ll be seeing Curt from time to time. They’ve assigned him to the F-15 project. He’ll be in civilian clothes over here, that’s all.”

  “I guess you’re right. It’s a shame he believed Stang’s lie. I know the Air Force wouldn’t have let him resign under any other circumstance. He’s a fine test pilot—I mean, was.”

  “Port, he had family problems. Becky wasn’t handling his flying very well. For that matter, neither was their daughter, Patty.”

  “I guess there is life after the Air Force, huh?” Port noted ruefully, slowly getting to her feet. She smoothed the wrinkled flight suit out across her thighs.

  Mustering a laugh, Sam stood and put papers into his briefcase. “For thirty-year people like us, Port, there is no life after the Air Force.”

  “Think it’s a terminal condition?”

  Grinning, Sam shrugged. “Better talk to the family of the person. They’re in for thirty years, too.”

  “I’m just glad Ryan accepts how important my work is to me,” Lauren agreed. “How’s Megan doing with your new promotion to major and chief test pilot on this project?”

  “Coping.”

  She tilted her head and gave him a probing look. “What does that mean?”

  Snapping the briefcase shut, Sam rested his hands on the top of it. “It means we take one day at a time, and do a hell of a lot of talking and discussing my job.”

  “Good communication eases fear,” Lauren said fervently. She checked her watch. “You’d better get going, Sam. I’ll see you over here at five-thiry a.m. and we’ll take a ride in that Eagle with the canards. I’m excited about it. I think it’ll give us the landing requirements we’ve been looking for.”

  Fear snapped through Holt, and he forced a cheerful demeanor he didn’t feel. “Yeah, we’ll take the girl up for a spin tomorrow morning.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes penetrating. “Sam, you okay?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I don’t know…ever since the crash, you’ve looked—” she groped for the right words “—out of sorts.”

  Inwardly, Holt winced, but he kept his face neutral. Every night, he’d stay up until 3:00 a.m. to avoid the nightmare he knew would come. At first, Megan was stymied by his night-owl tactics. Unable to tell her the truth because she was still recovering from her own crisis, Sam told her he was studying hard every night on the canard flight. She believed him. Getting three hours of sleep at night wasn’t enough, and he knew it. But what was he going to do? Go to sleep in Megan’s arms and wake up screaming?

  If he did, Holt knew he’d have to level with Megan, and he didn’t want to destroy the delicate balance of their relationship with his admittance. Somehow, he’d fly the damn test. Somehow. Even though, deep down, he’d wanted to simply crawl into Megan’s arms and spill out all the ugly fears that inhabited him. Under any other circumstances, he knew Megan had the internal strength to help him carry his loads.

  “The crash shook me up,” he admitted quietly, knowing he didn’t dare speak to Lauren about his fears. She might get cold feet and have him replaced.

  “Piece of cake, Holt.”

  “Yeah…piece of cake.”

  On the way over to the elementary school to pick up Megan, Holt chewed over his conversation with Lauren. Exhausted, all he wanted to do was go home tonight, lay down on the couch and sleep. Did he dare? Would the nightmare stalk him if he took an evening nap? If it did, Megan would want to know what was going on. She had been with him once before when it happened, and would quickly put the pieces together. And then, he’d have to explain. Sighing heavily, Holt swung the Corvette into the parking lot, spotting Megan.

  His spirits lifted unaccountably. She wore a pretty pink cotton skirt, a white silk blouse and a fuchsia scarf around her neck. To Sam, she looked more like a young college coed than a teacher. As always, her hair tumbled in abandon around her shoulders, and it triggered the need to run his fingers through that thick cascade. If only he could get past tonight. If only he could successfully fly the test, things would get on an even keel between them.

  Holt made a promise to tell Megan the truth as soon as the flight was successful. He didn’t like withholding from her. Their relationship was based upon an honesty that was incredibly refreshing, and it drew them even closer to one another. He’d never experienced anything like it before, realizing it was Megan who had triggered the response in him because of her quest to find out who she really was—not what her parents had made her think or believe about herself.

  Megan’s smile was radiant with welcome, and Holt felt some of the despair lift momentarily from around him. He opened the door and watched as she got into the Corvette. Leaning over, she surprised him with a warm kiss on the mouth.

  “Mmmm,” Sam murmured. He gripped her shoulder and held her close to sample her smiling mouth one more time. Releasing her, he smiled and said, “Chocolate chip cookies?”

  Laughing, Megan shut the door and donned the seat belt. “One of the kids brought in a plate of cookies. She gave me one.” Then she opened her purse and drew out a napkin with a cookie in it. “Here, I saved you one.�
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  Touched, Sam promptly put it into his mouth and savored the unexpected dessert. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and drove the car away from the curb.

  “One isn’t going to ruin our dinner,” Megan continued, placing her briefcase on the floor next to her feet. Sliding her hand across his shoulders, she asked, “How did your day go?”

  The cookie disappeared quickly. “No last-minute glitches. Lauren and I were over at the hangar today double-checking the canards that were put on the nose of the Eagle. It looks fine.” He prayed he sounded nonchalant, as if it were nothing.

  “Well,” she said, settling back into the seat, “I’d like to do two things tonight. First, I think we should go visit Becky and Curt since they’ve settled into their new house in Lancaster. They only live across town, and we owe a housewarming visit.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, I miss Curt at the office. Hell, I miss the whole family.” The only reason they hadn’t gotten together after the crash was Curt’s swift departure from the base, their move into civilian life and Sam’s own brutal schedule now that he was chief test pilot.

  “I’ve already called Becky and asked her if we could just drop over for a minute.”

  “And?”

  “She can hardly wait to see us.”

  Sam smiled. “So what’s the second part of your strategy, Ms. Roberts?”

  “I’m planning a special dinner tonight for us.”

  “Oh?”

  “Sure. Why not? A precelebration for a successful and safe flight.”

  Her care touched Sam deeply. “A kind of good luck charm for tomorrow morning, is that it?” he teased gently.

  “You could say that. Every time my father flew a test flight, my mother went into hiding. I’m not going to do that, Sam Holt. Every time there’s a flight, we’ll have the works—candlelight, a wonderful dinner and dessert.”

  “What kind of dessert?”

  She grinned. “Anything you want, Holt. The sky’s the limit.”

  He slid his hand into hers, relishing her softness, her thoughtfulness. “You’re my dessert.”

  The last two weeks had been heaven in Holt’s opinion. Megan had moved into his house for all intents and purposes, although she still kept her apartment. Both of them had agreed that this was a “test run” of their relationship to see if they could live together. With the exception of him not going to bed until 3:00 a.m. every morning, the time with Megan had been utter bliss. Megan smiled. “Let’s go visit the Merrills.”

  “Mommy, Mommy!” Patty shrieked, leaping up and down at the front screen door, “they’re here! Uncle Sammy and Ms. Roberts are here!”

  Becky was sitting with Curt in the kitchen. Curt rose.

  “Come on, let’s meet them,” he said, rising and fitting the crutches under each arm.

  Smiling, Becky got up, slowly following him. Curt still had a limp from the crash, but it was getting less and less apparent with every day. As they walked through their newly purchased house, a far more beautiful one with much more room than the one they had rented on Sharon Drive, Becky sighed. Just seeing Curt in a civilian suit of clothes was like a dream. How many times had she pinched herself to see if it was really real: Curt was a civilian, no longer anchored to the whims and wiles of the military.

  Becky lifted her hand as Sam and Megan entered the foyer, Patty shrieking with joy. Tears came to her eyes as they drew to a halt, watching their daughter open her arms to their best friend. Holt’s laughter was rolling as he lifted Patty into his arms, and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek followed by a huge bear hug with lots of growling, bearlike noises that made Patty squeal with delight.

  “Ya’ll come in,” Becky greeted, pulling Megan forward. “I’ve got coffee on in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks, Becky,” Megan said, watching Sam tussle with Patty. He would be wonderful with children. The thought sent a flood of incredible warmth through her.

  Curt shook hands with Sam. “Good to see you again. Come on in.”

  Megan sat next to Sam at the kitchen table. The change in the household was startling to her. On base, the Merrills’ home had been in a constant state of disarray according to Sam. This home was immaculately clean. Becky served coffee to everyone and sat down at Megan’s elbow. She smiled at her daughter, who preferred Sam’s lap.

  “Can I have some coffee, Uncle Sammy?”

  Holt grinned. “Punkin, haven’t you heard?”

  “What?”

  “Coffee will stunt your growth.”

  Patty made a face and looked over at Becky. “Mommy, is that why you’re short?”

  Giggling, Becky nodded. “Yes, honey. Mama and Daddy let me start drinkin’ coffee when I was real young.”

  Curt grinned. “It’s good to see you both. Sam, I’ll be coming over to consult with you across the table next week on the Agile Eagle follow-up. Congratulations on your promotion to chief test pilot.”

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  “Speaking of good news,” Becky said proudly, “I’ve got a lady therapist by the name of Molly Dodd, and she’s helpin’ all of us.”

  Curt reached over, enclosing his wife’s small hand on the table. “Molly is a Jungian therapist who has an office over in Palmdale. We all go to see her once a week.”

  “Obviously,” Megan said, “it’s helping all of you.”

  “Lordy, she has to help me understand why I’m codependent, explain why Patty is angry, and help Curt with his nightmares after the crash.”

  Soberly, Sam nodded. “Those nightmares will hang around for a while.” How well he knew. If only his would go away.

  Curt stretched out, opening his arms as Patty climbed from Sam’s lap into his. “Maybe. I’ve been finding out that just talking about it has helped a lot, Sam.” He cast Becky a warm look filled with undisguised love and pride. “Molly’s retraining me to talk to Becky.”

  Softly, Becky said, “I like talking to you, darlin’. I’ve always wanted to be there for you.”

  “Pilots have a tendency to keep everything bottled up inside of them,” Megan added quietly. She saw them all nod in silent agreement.

  Curt gave Sam a significant look. “Take it from me—talking helps.”

  With a wink at Megan, Sam said, “I’m finding that out, buddy.”

  “You don’t realize how nice it is to have your man talk about what’s troublin’ him. Why, we’re strong, aren’t we, Megan?”

  “Women are stronger than men,” Megan agreed, giving Becky a warm look.

  “And two of the prettiest, strongest women we’ve ever known, right, Curt?”

  Grinning, Curt nodded. “In our business, strong women are the only ones who can survive what we put them through.”

  Becky sipped her coffee. “I like what your new job puts you through.” She turned to Megan. “You realize Curt gets home at a decent hour and leaves for work at a decent time?”

  “Must be nice,” Megan said, meaning it.

  Curt ruffled Patty’s blond hair. “And I have time for her and Becky now.”

  “You’ve earned this, buddy.” Sam wanted to see Curt and Becky happy.

  Megan silently agreed. There was such a difference between the Merrills and other Air Force families. It reminded her what the military could do to some men, women and children who just couldn’t deal with the incredible stresses put upon them. Her mother hadn’t been able to deal with it, either. Looking over at Sam, Megan understood that she would have to find that special strength somewhere within herself, because Sam would never leave the Air Force. He was a thirty-year man.

  Later, on the way over to Sam’s home, Megan was silent. Sam slid his hand across hers and placed a kiss on it. “Are you upset?”

  She closed her eyes and smiled, savoring the gentleness of his hand around her own. “No. Happy for the Merrills.”

  “Becky looks a hundred percent better.”

  “So does Curt.” She barely lifted her lashes, gazing at his strong profile. “Patty was so happy. Do you see how well-manne
red she was? When she was in my class, she was such a disruption.”

  “A kid who was hurting for love and at the time, neither parent was capable of giving it to her,” Sam murmured. He glanced over at Megan. “You suffered through the same thing. Only, it didn’t stop.”

  “I survived, Sam. That’s all that counts. And I’m not over it yet, but I’m trying to understand what it did to me and how to break those old patterns and old fears.”

  “We’ll keep doing it together.”

  Hope mushroomed through her heart. “Yes.”

  “I’m starved.”

  Megan laughed. “These serious conversations are just too hard on that stomach of yours, aren’t they?” She liked his little-boy grin. It went straight to her heart.

  “You’re such a great cook,” Sam said admiringly. “I like your meals.”

  “There’s no secret to you, Sam Holt. Cook decent food and you’d be happy.”

  “What’s for dinner?”

  Groaning, Sam walked over to the couch in the living room. “I can’t eat another bite,” he protested. Megan was starting to clear the dishes from the dining room table. The dinner had been superb; steaks grilled with Dijon mustard, baked potatoes and a Caesar salad. He knew he shouldn’t lie down, but the meal had made him drowsy. Against better judgment, Sam propped a pillow under his head and stretched out on the couch.

  Megan came in, wiping her hands on the blue apron she wore. “You ate enough for two people,” she laughed. “Dessert?”

  “Later, sweetheart, I’m done in.”

  Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Megan threaded his dark hair through her fingers. “You look so tired. It’s all those late nights catching up to you, Sam.”

  “Don’t go getting that worried look on your face,” he chided, catching her hand and kissing it. “Wake me up in an hour? I just need a little catnap, and I’ll be okay.”

  With a nod, she drew the purple-and-blue afghan his mother had knitted for him many years ago over him. “An hour, jet jock.” Megan tucked it in around him and saw his eyelids droop shut. “Go to sleep,” Megan whispered, leaning over and kissing his furrowed brow. Before she got to her feet, Sam was asleep, his deep, slow breathing punctuated by an occasional snore.