Sweet Montana Christmas

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Sweet Montana Christmas Page 20

by Casey Dawes


  What if he left and things went just as wrong, and he lost Sue Anne and the friendships he’d made?

  Either way, he could get screwed. But if he didn’t use fear to make his decisions, how was he supposed to know the right thing to do?

  “You’ve got a point.”

  “I suggest you start with getting up front about how you really feel about Sue Anne.”

  “Who made you boss?” Zach asked.

  “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Pat gave him a light jab in the upper arm. “That’s what friends are for—to rub your face in the truth when you’re being too much of a guy to see it.”

  • • •

  Zach stared at the arrivals board. Sue Anne was due in on the five o’clock flight from Seattle. Everything should be fine, but it had been snowing all night and had stayed below freezing all day. No chance for the runway to ice. Still, it would be dark when the plane landed. Pilots had to have special training to fly into Missoula because of the surrounding mountains, and he hoped this one was experienced as well.

  He’d feel more secure when she was on the ground. There were things to say.

  Holiday tunes had been playing for weeks, beginning at midnight of Thanksgiving Day. Normally, Zach blocked out the good cheer, but since his talk with Pat, the songs had snuck into his heart and filled it with hope.

  The plane took shape as it descended, but then he lost it against the backdrop of the Rockies. He kept his eyes on the lights as they loomed closer and breathed a sigh of relief as the wheels touched down on the far runway.

  The plane taxied down the runway, slowing as it neared the terminal, but it still seemed to be going too fast.

  His heart raced as he watched the thin CRJ-700 race down the runway. What the hell was the pilot doing? His velocity was too high.

  Beside him, he could feel Tony tense.

  The pilot must have applied the brakes, because the plane finally slowed ... and slid right off the runway toward the fence.

  “Shit!”

  Zach and Tony took off for the engine before the command came over their communication devices. His heart was in his throat as he grabbed his gear and took up his station on the fire truck before it roared out to the airfield.

  Chapter 21

  By the time the truck reached the plane, the aircraft had stopped. It was on the snowy grass a short ways from the fence, but still upright. In fact, it looked like they might be able to tow it back to the tarmac and over to the disembarkment area.

  Zach’s heart stopped thudding quite so hard, but he knew he wouldn’t be totally satisfied until he saw Sue Anne was safe. He paced around the truck, unable to do anything constructive while the powers that be decided what should happen next. He stared at the sleek aircraft, willing Sue Anne to come to a window. The reflection of the lights on the glass was all he saw.

  After much investigation and discussion, the safety team sent for one of the aircraft tow operators to bring the plane to the ramp.

  The squad returned to the terminal and waited for the plane to arrive, just in case any of the passengers needed assistance.

  Alaska Airlines personnel crowded the area as the first passengers began to descend the stairs, ground crew getting the overnight bags and placing them on the luggage cart. The sounds of planes taxiing and taking off roared around them.

  Everything was normal, except as the passengers started to come off the plane, many were pale, and some of the older passengers held the rail with trembling hands. He anxiously scanned each figure as he or she descended. Finally, when it seemed that the plane must be empty, he saw her.

  “Cover me,” he said to Tony as he moved toward the metal stairs.

  “Sure.” Tony’s voice faded into the background.

  “Sue Anne,” Zach yelled to be heard over the engine noise around him. “Are you okay?”

  She looked to the sound of his voice, and a smile slowly came to her face. She nodded. As soon as she hit the ground, she moved toward him.

  His stride lengthened, and he closed the distance swiftly, pulling her into his arms as soon as he reached her. “Thank God,” he mumbled into her hair. “Thank God you’re safe.”

  Then he knew. There was no doubt of what his decision must be.

  He cradled her face in his hands.

  “I love you, Sue Anne. I love you, and I’m never leaving you. I hope in time, I can convince you of that. And that, maybe, with some effort, you can learn to love me, too.”

  “How does right now sound?” She smiled up at him, the deepest expression he’d ever seen. “I love you, Zach. I just couldn’t let myself believe it because I thought you were going away.”

  “I know. I’m a jerk sometimes. I hope you can put up with that.”

  She laughed, a full throaty laugh filled with the joy of being alive.

  “I’m sure I can learn to do that. As long as you can put up with me losing things ... and Sugar.”

  Happiness filled his entire soul.

  He lowered his mouth to kiss her, barely aware of the clapping of his entire squad behind him.

  • • •

  Christmas Day...

  Sue Anne couldn’t wait for the flight from Seattle to Missoula to end. She’d had a good time spending Christmas Eve with her family—even her Mom’s new beau Paul had come for the festivities—but it was time to get back to her life—chocolates, Sugar, and Zach.

  She couldn’t wait to see if more of her list was under the tree—a book on the history of chocolate, a couple of CDs that had been on her list when she was a teen, and colorful stationery.

  But he’d already given her the most important thing on her list before the holiday arrived.

  He was staying in Missoula. They had a chance at happiness.

  She’d hesitated before she’d written that item on her list, but did it anyway. Wishes had no chance unless they were spoken aloud.

  The lights of the airport appeared at the bottom of the valley. A little bit of fear ran through her nerves. This was the first time she’d flown into the city since the near disaster a few weeks before.

  This time, the flight touched down gently and taxied to the gate with no problems. She grabbed her overnight bag from the rack and wheeled it into the terminal. Zach had said he had something special he had to do, so she’d driven her car to the airport.

  A few minutes later, she was staring at the empty spot where her Subaru was supposed to be. She looked at the ticket in her hand. Yep. Right space.

  She groaned and headed back to the terminal. Now what had happened? Zach’s squad was going to think she was so dumb.

  “Pat,” she said to the first officer she found. “I can’t seem to find my car.”

  “Oh? Okay. Are you sure where you left it?”

  She kept from rolling her eyes—just barely—and handed him the ticket where she’d written down the lot and slot number.

  “Okay. I can’t think of why it would move. Anyone else have your keys?”

  “Only Zach. And he knows better than to move my car at the airport.” Didn’t he?

  “All right.” Pat spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Got to help Sue Anne find her car. Can you cover for me, Jim?”

  “Sure,” the box squawked back.

  Pat loaded her luggage into the patrol car, and she slid into the passenger seat, a sense of déjà vu washing over her.

  “Let’s just start at one end and go to the other,” Pat said as he started weaving between the rows of parked cars. Within five minutes, they reached the row where she’d left her car without seeing it anywhere else.

  Pat stopped a few slots from the empty one. “Let’s look more closely to see if we have any other clues.”

  She opened her door and got out, not really seeing the point, but not wanting to offend Zach’s friend.

  As she strode over to the empty spot, she noticed a familiar figure.

  Zach?

  All of a sudden floodlights from several patrol cars she hadn’t noticed lit the space.


  What the hell was going on?

  She walked over to the man she loved, a man with a huge grin on his face.

  “Zach?”

  “Hi, darling. I figured this was the right spot, since this is where it all began.” He got down on one knee and opened a small jeweler’s box in his hand. Light sparkled on its contents.

  “I know it’s taken me too long to know my own heart, but I know it now. I have loved you for longer than I knew, and I want to spend every day of my life proving it to you. Sue Anne, will you marry me?”

  Tears filled her eyes. A truly amazing year had gone by since they’d found each other over a lost car. Her shop was doing well, she’d mended fences with her mother, and she’d found a man she could spend the rest of her life with.

  “I will,” she said.

  He slid the ring on her finger and gathered her in his arms. “Merry Christmas, Sue Anne.”

  “Merry Christmas, Zach.”

  Patrol car sirens filled the air, announcing their Christmas miracle.

  Acknowledgments

  A heartfelt thank you to the Missoula Airport Public Safety Officers, especially Wade Benjamin, who graciously answered my questions. Also to Chris Jensen, airport director, who gave a tour to members of the Missoula Businesswomen’s Network and supplied basic information about how the airport works. Rick Schoder, Airport Certification Safety Inspector from FAA Northwest Mountain Region Airports Division, for providing answers about FAA testing, including the story of a worker who turned off the alarm and went back to sleep. Any factual errors are mine, not theirs.

  A big shout-out to fellow author and chocolatier H. A. Somerled, who spent an hour or so teaching me the basics of making truffles and fudge and who is always generous with her time and cooking abilities.

  My friends at Missoula Businesswomen’s Network are always supportive and fun to be around. You have been a gift since I arrived in Missoula over four years ago.

  My editor, Julie Sturgeon, always pushes me to be the best writer I can be. Thank you, Julie.

  And, finally, thank you to my darling husband who knows when to supply me with chocolate, wine, and love.

  A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance

  California Sunrise

  Casey Dawes

  Dr. Raúl Mendez entered notes on his last patient, a six-month-old girl with respiratory problems, into the laptop, his large fingers crowded on the keyboard.

  “Your next appointment is ready.” Graciela Torres stood in the examination room doorway, her black skirt shorter than he preferred in an office setting. Her low-cut, red blouse revealed ample cleavage.

  He’d have to remind his OB/GYN partner, Hadiya Patel, of their agreement: she dealt with the female staff, and he handled the more manly pursuit of hiring a plumber when it was needed.

  “Thank you, Graciela. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  As he headed down the hall to the next patient, his irritation with the receptionist diminished and his satisfaction returned. The clinic, designed to help mothers and children, particularly farmworkers, provided a safe, warm haven for the sick. His partner, Dr. Patel, emitted an aura that comforted even the most distraught mothers-to-be, while he was there to care for the newborns and young children. He was lucky to have her as a mentor in his newly opened practice.

  The trim, peach walls were lined with offerings from local artists, and the gleaming equipment was the best they could afford. He’d insisted on a good, computerized medical records system from the beginning, and the time savings had paid off in their ability to see more people during the day.

  His lungs expanded with pride. Who would have thought that a Mexican kid who’d grown up in a house with a dirt floor, chickens and pigs in the yard, and Christmases provided by well-meaning strangers would have the guts to make it all the way through medical school?

  Now there was only one more thing to achieve: the return of his deported parents and siblings.

  Raúl pushed open the door to the examining room.

  The petite woman standing by the child on the examining table turned.

  The strong bones of her face, full lips, and dark eyes matched the structure of her body. Attractive. Not that he was looking for anyone right now.

  “Are you Dr. Mendez?” she asked.

  “Sí. And you are”—he checked the chart—“Alicia Fuentes.”

  The boy on the table squirmed and let out a howl.

  Raúl glanced back at the chart. No medical problem stood out, but the young woman had been to several doctors, including specialists at Stanford. Was it some type of Munchausen syndrome, or was there a legitimate illness?

  “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

  “Luis is difficult.”

  He was tempted to tell her all children were difficult, but the set of her jaw stopped him short. “In what way?” He leaned back against the counter, his interest piqued by what she might have to say. If the child wasn’t simply a fussy baby, it might be a chance to increase his behavioral development experience.

  “He mixes up his days—sleeps during the day and wants to be up all night. He’s a fussy eater. I practically have to hand-feed him. He doesn’t seem to sit up well. And temper tantrums! I know all children have them, but his seem worse than other kids’. My grandmother says she’s never seen anything like it.” Snapping her mouth shut, she stared at him, as if defying him to tell her there was nothing wrong, that her child was normal.

  In that instant, he knew there wasn’t anything normal about Luis.

  Although he hadn’t seen a wedding ring, he asked the question anyway. “How is he with his father?”

  “I’m a single mom.” Her chin went up. “He never sees his father.”

  A too common answer. His heart crinkled with sadness for her and anger at the boy’s father. “He has no contact with his son?”

  “No.”

  The finality in her voice warned him not to pursue the subject.

  He ignored the warning.

  “It must be very difficult for you, especially so young.”

  “I’m eighteen.” She made her age sound as if she were in her mid-thirties.

  He hid a smile. “The baby is twelve months, correct? What have the other doctors told you?”

  “They don’t know what’s wrong. He’s too young for certain tests. They can’t help me.” Defeat crept into her words, and her shoulders slumped, but then she rallied and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m told you can."

  He hoped her confidence wasn’t misplaced. “Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll take a look at your son?”

  “Do you have children, Dr. Mendez?” She moved toward the chair but didn’t sit.

  “Me? No. I’ve never been married.”

  “Brothers and sisters?”

  “Yes. Older brothers. Why do you ask?”

  “It seems odd for a single man to be a pediatrician.”

  “Like many of us, I come from a large, extended family. Lots of cousins. Lots of different problems—some the normal hazards of being a kid, some brought on by poverty. Giving kids a healthy start is a way to help our people.” He looked down at Luis and put his stethoscope in his ears. “Now let’s see what’s up with you, little man.”

  The phone rang.

  Yanking the tubes from his ears, he turned back to the desk and stabbed one of the buttons. “I told you not to interrupt me when I’m with a patient.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor, but your next patient is here, and her baby looks very sick,” Graciela said.

  “She’ll need to wait.” He put the brakes on his temper. “Thank you, Graciela.”

  He glanced at Alicia. Her face seemed paler. Had the call bothered her? Or had it been his short display of temper? “I’m sorry about the interruption. I tell the ladies out front each patient is as important as the next, but they have their own priorities.”

  As if sensing something was going on, Luis began to stir and wail. Raúl touched the boy’s arm to comfo
rt him, but the noise increased in volume.

  “I see what you mean about being difficult.” He took a penlight from his pocket and waved it in front of Luis’s eyes.

  The boy’s gaze followed the moving light, and he calmed down.

  “Good boy.” Raúl patted the boy’s shoulder, then clicked off the light.

  Luis’s gaze locked on the ceiling tiles, his eyes moving as he traced a pattern visible only to him. Raúl went through the vitals and tested the child’s reflexes. No scars or bruises marred his skin.

  “Hi, Luis.” Raúl waved his hand in front of the boy.

  No response.

  He tried again. Luis squirmed and fought his way around the table so he could see the ceiling again.

  Suspicions formed in his mind, but the other doctors were right: it was too early to confirm them. And if he was correct, Luis would always be difficult for his mother. She was young, but would never be able to share the freedoms that other women, even other single mothers, would have.

  How could he support her?

  “What’s wrong, Doctor?” the hovering mother asked. “How can I help my son?”

  “Tell me how Luis acts at home.”

  “I’m not with him most of the day. He stays with my grandmother while I go work in Costanoa. I was hoping to take a few business classes at Costanoa College to learn how to manage a store.” She looked at Luis. “But he’s getting more difficult for my grandmother to handle. No one else seems to be able to deal with him.” Her smile didn’t fully materialize. “I can’t stay home with him for the rest of my life.”

  Like he had, she wanted to better her life, but she had an extra burden he hadn’t been forced to carry. He hated to tell her that her path to her dream was going to be a rocky one.

  “What do I do with him?” The question held the same overtones as Luis’s wail.

  “He’s too young to do the kind of tests it will take to determine what I think is the problem. He has some of the characteristics of Asperger’s, but I won’t be able to say definitively until he is about eighteen months or so.”

  “What is Asperger’s?”

 

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