“Why did you buy such a small plane when you’ve obviously got money and could get one of those big silver corporate jets?”
He wanted to laugh at her question, but he bit it back, instinctively knowing that really wouldn’t go over well with her at that moment. “It’s what I wanted,” he said, not about to start discussing runway length and the fact that he liked it smaller so he could fly alone as much as possible.
“Why?”
He stared at her. “It’s green. My favorite color,” he said, referring to the panel again. The storm was approaching faster than he’d anticipated, but worse than that, he could feel a catch in the rhythm of the plane. A blip of some sort.
The plane shook against resistance then, and she exhaled on a long sigh. “I feel a bit green myself,” she muttered, eyes shut again, and he just bet those bubbles were being counted, too.
“Listen, I’ve flown this route many times with no trouble. I know it so well I could close my eyes and land us safely at the landing strip on the ranch. I’ve done it before.”
“You what?”
“I’m kidding,” he said quickly. “It’s just a joke. I’m wide awake, always am when I’m flying, and we’ll be in Wolf Lake before you know it.” Platitudes, he admitted to himself, but he was at a loss to figure out anything he could say that would put her at ease. That didn’t mean that he’d stop trying, however. “We have radar, a flight tracker, GPS.” He tapped the screen in front of him. “Every gadget we need to get there is in this panel and on this plane, so don’t worry. It’s all good.”
The wind buffeted the plane to one side and she gasped, “What about that?” She pointed an unsteady finger at the storm clearly gathering in the distance. “That looks horrible.”
He scanned the screen and said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, “It’s not pretty, but it won’t get to us before we get to where we want to be. If worse comes to worst, we’ll fly around it and take a bit more time to get home, or if it gets sloppy and spreads out, we’ll climb high enough to go over it.”
She was trembling slightly, he noticed, and he was flooded with a foreign feeling of protectiveness. He didn’t like that at all. He didn’t want to be totally responsible for her safety. He went through a lot on his own, answering to no one but himself, but this would be different.
Everything he’d have to do from here on out would be done for both of them, not just him. The usual rush he got from danger, or uncertainty, was gone since it wasn’t only his life at stake anymore. Not by a long shot. One glance at Merry and his stomach clenched. He turned away from the sight of her before he gave in to an overwhelming need to touch her and say, “We’ll make it.” He wasn’t a good liar, and he couldn’t say those words with any conviction right then.
So Gage did what he knew, and got on the radio, trying to make contact with the nearest tower to give them his coordinates. How he wished he’d never listened to Merry in the terminal and never said he’d bring her back home to Wolf Lake....
When he heard a report from the tower through the static about the changing direction and speed of the winds, and the mess they were heading right into, he knew he had to think fast.
“What are we going to do?” Merry asked in an unsteady voice.
If she hadn’t been with him, he would have made an immediate decision and never second guessed himself. Never. But with her, he was going back and forth, contemplating about going up or heading off to the side. He hated uncertainty, knowing that his slightest hesitation could mess things up for them. “We’ll go up,” he said with more conviction than he felt.
“Good,” he thought he heard Merry say as he spoke into the radio, telling the nearest tower what he’d do and asking for wind speed and direction. As he listened, he readjusted the controls and the plane started to climb. With the tower voice in the background, he could feel the small aircraft respond perfectly, and that gave him a sense of relief. It was a great plane. Then he felt the beginning of a drag, a sense of lost direction, right when Merry spoke again.
“Why are we climbing so slowly?”
The radio contact was breaking up, and he ignored it to check the radar. Because the wind is so strong, it’s pushing us back and down, he told himself, but instead said, “The weather.”
He had to concentrate, but was finding it harder than it should have been with Merry so close. He never should have let her get on board. Never. He didn’t need this. It was why he had no wish to be in any long term relationship because he didn’t want the responsibility or pressure. His job and his family were his only responsibilities, and business had been the main focus of his life since he’d started the company.
It still would be if the calls hadn’t come, one after the other over the past month. Calls about mundane things from friends and family in Wolf Lake. But beyond all the banter, he knew their real purpose. His older brother, Jack, needed him and he hadn’t been around.
Initially, Gage had planned on flying back for a day or two closer to summer. Then the request for a full bid on an entertainment complex southeast of Wolf Lake near the Rez had come from the town council, so he had made arrangements to travel there sooner rather than later.
Penciling in a week’s stay in Wolf Lake, he’d pacified his obligations business wise and his own conscience. However, he never thought he’d be in this plane, with a beautiful, confounding woman, flying straight into a storm. When the plane shuddered again, he tried to feather it into the wind to get clear and the action didn’t get any response from Merry. No gasp, no sobs, no petrified screams, so he chanced a look at her.
She was bent forward, her face hidden in her hands, and her back rising and falling rapidly. She was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t stop. He tried to push away that growing sense of protectiveness and that effort made his words sound short and abrupt. “Sit back and stop breathing so fast. You’re going to pass out.”
Her hands dropped just a bit and he could see her green eyes flash angrily at him. “Thanks,” she muttered, but did sit back and drop her hands to her lap.
He dismissed any apology he’d thought he should make, satisfied that she’d stopped counting bubbles and looking so terrified. “Make sure your belts are fastened and tight.”
“You, too,” she said, fiddling with her restraints.
He ignored her curt tone, and went on. “We’re going to have to fight to get to the west,” he told her, focusing on the panel in front of him. “That means jerking and possible dropping, but none of that means that we’re putting down. Do you understand that?”
He heard one word as he kept scanning the screens. “Yes.” She didn’t ask any questions.
“Ready?”
Another single word answer. “Yes.”
He didn’t have to look to know her eyes were shut. “Okay, here we go,” he said and began a painfully slow descent to the west. At first he felt it was working, despite two drops in altitude, and a jerk that snapped his head back. “It’s okay,” he said as much for his own benefit as it was for Merry’s.
“Good,” she replied, but he knew he’d spoken too soon. Things weren’t okay. They were losing altitude at about the same speed he was losing control of the plane. The angry winds knocked them, the snow finally growing into thin flakes that were more like needles being driven at them. Visibility was failing and the compass was nudging toward the south, not the west.
“No,” he murmured, trying to get control. The direction they were heading in was bringing them toward the mountain range that he flew over to get to Wolf Lake.
Now they were twisting in the air, icing on the outside direction adjusters made his control next to nonexistent. He heard Merry saying something, but the static of the radio in his ear drowned it out. He hit the button