Richard had looked scared to death, but Elizabeth’s blue eyes had radiated strength and purpose, and to Talbot’s shame, he had felt a flicker of envy that his younger brother had found such a beautiful, strong young woman to claim as his own.
He’d been appalled by that momentary stab of jealousy, and had consciously attempted to hold himself distant from her in the years of her marriage to Richard. In fact, he’d often been cold and brusque with her.
He’d hoped that attraction had died, but catching the scent of her familiar perfume, he was acutely aware of her presence next to him and of a tiny flame of heat that had ignited somewhere in the pit of his stomach.
Richard’s woman, he reminded himself. And even though she and Richard had been divorced for a year, she would never be anything other than Richard’s woman.
“I should be beside myself with anger at Richard for this,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “But I’ve always found it hard to sustain anger toward Richard for any length of time.”
This time Talbot felt a smile curving his lips. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Despite Richard’s immaturity and thoughtlessness, there was something endearing about him that made it difficult to get really angry with him. He was like a little boy who probably needed a spanking, but usually got away with nothing more than a sigh of exasperation from the adults around him.
Talbot’s smile faded and he frowned thoughtfully. “But he hasn’t been himself this past week.”
“What do you mean?”
Talbot felt her gaze on him, but didn’t turn to look at her. He’d learned through the years that looking at her was dangerous. It often resulted in inappropriate thoughts.
“I don’t know… He’s been unusually quiet, and when he does talk, lately all he talks about is our childhood…the past.”
“Maybe he’s doing some growing up, at twenty-seven. He’s still working for you at McCarthy Industries, right?”
Talbot nodded. “He’s a good personnel manager. He’s good with people.”
Talbot wondered if perhaps Richard was regretting his divorce from Elizabeth, and if this trip to Twin Oaks might not be an attempt to forge a reconciliation.
Richard probably hadn’t expected Elizabeth to call his older brother. But she had, to see if he knew what Richard was up to.
It had been Talbot’s idea to fly her to Branson where they could rent a car and drive to the tiny town of Twin Oaks. She’d readily agreed, preferring an hour-long plane trip to a four-and-a-half-hour trip in a car.
He wondered if Richard did want reconciliation, would Elizabeth be willing to try the marriage again? Certainly Andrew would be pleased if such a thing happened. Although he seemed well-adjusted to the divorce, wasn’t it every child’s dream to see his parents together?
And certainly all Talbot had ever wanted was for his brother to be happy. He’d promised his father a long time ago that he’d do everything in his power to take care of Richard.
He started as a shrill alarm screamed through the cockpit.
“What’s that?” Elizabeth gasped.
Talbot stared in horror at the gas gauge. Almost empty. But that was impossible; he’d refueled before he left Morning View “I don’t know. It looks like we’re losing fuel.”
“But we’re still miles from Branson,” Elizabeth protested, an edge of hysteria in her voice.
“Look outside your window and see if there’s a clearing where I can put down.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
At that moment the engine of the plane coughed once, then stopped running.
The only sound was the rush of the wind buffeting the plane from side to side. “No, I’m not kidding,” he said softly.
“What’s happening?”
“The engine has stopped.” Talbot worked to maintain control of the small aircraft. He picked up the microphone, but with only seconds to radio for help, he dropped it and kept his hands on the controls as the plane began to descend far too quickly.
“What do you mean, the engine has stopped?” Her voice rose slightly.
“I mean I’m no longer in control of this plane.”
“That’s ridiculous!” she cried. “You’re always in control of everything.”
At some other point in time, her comment would have warranted further discussion, but at the moment, he needed all his energy, all his focus, to keep the plane in the air. And it was a battle he was losing.
“We’re going down,” he said.
“I’ll never forgive you for this, Talbot McCarthy!” she exclaimed just before they hit the trees.
Elizabeth had always believed there’s a moment before death when your life flashes before your eyes, and all the pleasures, all the regrets mingle together for one shining moment of profound truth.
She was wrong. What flashed through her head as the plane fell from the sky were two things—a deep mourning for her son and the embarrassment of knowing she’d put on her most ragged panties that morning.
The noise when they hit the trees was deafening. Metal screeched, glass shattered, and it took a moment for Elizabeth to realize she was adding to the cacophony by screaming at the top of her lungs.
She clung to her seat as the fuselage was smashed from side to side. Her stomach heaved, as if she was riding a roller coaster and had just gone down the biggest drop. Vaguely she was aware of Talbot adding a string of colorful oaths to the thunderous noise.
Without warning, the fuselage veered sharply, then flipped on its side. Something hit Elizabeth on the side of her head, and blackness descended. Her last conscious thought was that death was surprisingly anticlimactic.
“Elizabeth?”
A male voice penetrated the black fog and disrupted her peaceful sense of nothingness. The voice came again, irritating her with its sense of urgency.
“Elizabeth!” This time she recognized the voice. Talbot. How on earth had Talbot McCarthy managed to gain entry to heaven?
Her next thought was even more disturbing. What if she hadn’t made it to heaven? What if her afterlife consisted of sharing space in hell with Talbot?
A protest formed on her lips and her eyes snapped open. A new vision of hell greeted her. The darkness was pierced by a strange flickering illumination. Tangled metal…acrid smoke…a tree branch jutting through what had once been the front window.
The plane. A sharp stab of pain pierced the right side of her head as she oriented herself to where she was and what had just happened.
They’d crashed. She jerked her head to the side to look at Talbot. In the flashing light, she saw his gaze on her.
“Thank God,” he said. “For a minute there, I thought you were dead. Are you all right?”
She winced and reached up to touch the side of her head, where a goose egg had risen and was incredibly tender to the pressure of her fingertips. “I think so, although for a minute, I thought I was dead, too. What about you?”
“I’m okay. But something is burning. We need to get out of here as quickly as possible.” He unbuckled himself. “We’ll have to go out your door. Mine won’t open.”
Elizabeth unfastened her seat belt and stood, unsteady on her feet as her head reeled with a sick pain. She managed to push her door open, then turned back to Talbot, who still sat in his seat.
“Are you coming?” she asked, worried now that she saw flames