Читать книгу On Wings of Love - Kim Watters - Страница 9

“Are you okay, Ruth?” Nancy asked as she strapped herself into the seat in the rear of the ambulance to ride back to the waiting airplane.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Exhaustion seeped into her pores again. Child donors were always the hardest. And not very common, which was why so many sick children died while waiting for organs. A fact she tried to change with each donation she coordinated, but sometimes she felt like a hamster trapped inside one of those wheels getting nowhere fast. There weren’t enough organs to go around.

She stared out the tiny window in the back over Nancy’s shoulder. No need to let the staff know this particular donation had affected her. She wouldn’t fall apart in front of the team that depended on her to be the calm one. The reliable one. Boy, did she have them fooled.

But that wasn’t what made her unusually quiet. Her silence stemmed from the glimpse she’d caught of the donor’s parents’ faces as she passed them in the hallway on the way to surgery. A look her own parents had once worn when they realized one of their children was dead. Grief curled around Ruth’s heart and opened the door for memories to flood in, carrying debris and fallout from an earlier time.

She’d hoped and prayed for a miracle for her sister that never came. Sometimes she didn’t understand God’s ways. But she never questioned His intentions, which was why she followed His calling and dedicated her life to making sure every possible donation was a success.

Digging into her purse, she grabbed two pain relievers and plopped them into her mouth with hopes that they would deaden the pain emerging behind her eye again. The heart Dr. Cavanaugh carried in the cooler was two decades too late to help her twin, but another child would have a second chance at life.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Ruth asked Nancy. The fatigue lines bracketing the first assistant’s mouth mirrored her own. The surgery had gone well once they’d finally had their chance to operate.

“Fine, though things could have gone a little quicker.”

“That kidney team sure took their sweet time,” one of the med students announced. “I didn’t think they’d ever get finished. Why did it take so long?”

With six years’ experience as an O.R. nurse before becoming a coordinator, Ruth had been involved in hundreds of operations—many successful, others not. Since the heart was the last organ recovered, her team had to wait almost an hour and a half before they could operate.

Things had gotten tricky during the surgery, too, but Dr. Cavanaugh pulled it off. Ruth’s team had not lost an organ yet.

“Sometimes things don’t quite go as planned. I’m not familiar with that surgeon, but from his appearance, I’d say he doesn’t quite have the experience Dr. Cavanaugh has.”

“He sure was good-looking though.” The other med student piped in. “Too bad that team was from L.A. and not Phoenix.”

Ruth leaned against the padded bench and closed her eyes to the inane conversation swirling around her. She put pressure on her eyelid in hopes of alleviating the pain made worse when she realized she still had to get inside a plane and fly back to Phoenix. Instead of finding relief, she saw a sad Noah Barton staring back at her.

“Ready to fly back, Ruth?” Noah’s question sounded more like a sigh once she’d picked up her food from the cardboard box next to the door.

“Yes.” Ruth had a feeling this flight wasn’t going to be one of the more enjoyable ones with a lively conversation. By the looks of the fatigue written on the faces of her team and the tension that still lingered in the air between the two pilots, she predicted it would be totally silent.

Ruth took the same seat she’d sat in on the flight out. Funny how it wasn’t as comfortable as before, or maybe she attributed the feeling to the uneasy atmosphere inside. Or more specifically, the heart inside the cooler that seemed to make the air surrounding Noah even chillier. The atmosphere had definitely degraded since their arrival back from the hospital.

As Noah secured the door, her gaze roamed over his profile. She wondered about his slightly crooked nose. A fight? Or some daredevil childhood stunt? Not that it mattered. She wasn’t interested. Her hours were consumed with work or volunteering in the children’s wing at the hospital. She didn’t have time for romance. Not when there was another life to save or another soul in need of spiritual guidance, though Noah looked like he could use a little advice.

Did he even believe in God?

What was it about the pilot that yanked at her emotions? What about him attracted her? Was it the suppressed need that poured from him like rain off a roof? Or the brokenness he unsuccessfully tried to cover? Would he even welcome her attempt to help him?

Doubtful. Ruth’s fingers curled around her carton of fried rice. Enough about Noah. She still had a job to do. She just needed to concentrate. “Okay, team. Everyone set? Nancy, do you have your airsick bag?”

“Got it.”

“Anyone else need anything?”

No response. Great. With nothing else to think about until they were airborne, her attention drifted back to the pilot.

She watched Noah’s long, lean fingers—sprinkled with a light dusting of dark hair—cradle his headset before he put it on.

She wondered what Noah’s hand would feel like in hers. What would it be like to have someone to talk about her day with? The triumphs. The tragedies. The little things that happened that she couldn’t wait to share?

Ruth shut her eyes as Noah taxied onto the runway. She hadn’t had these thoughts about another man since David. But her ex-boyfriend had taken her heart and squashed it like some unsuspecting bug on the sidewalk more than two years ago. There was no way she’d put herself through that again no matter what.

So why was she suddenly having thoughts of relationships? Of being half of a couple? Of being normal? Her job was her life. The kids where she volunteered needed her. Especially the ones waiting for transplants. But somehow she suspected that Noah needed her as well but would never ask.

She squeezed her stress ball as the plane accelerated, whispered a quick prayer for everyone’s safety and prepared for takeoff.

Once they were at cruising altitude, Ruth folded the top of her nearly full take-out carton together. Her hunger had disappeared somewhere between Noah’s sad, yet bitter, expression and their not so smooth takeoff. In fact, her stomach was probably still hovering somewhere over San Diego County.

“Not hungry? It’s what you ordered.” Noah’s voice whispered through her headset.

Ruth raised her head in time to see disappointment dart through his blue eyes before his gaze slid to Brad. She didn’t miss the flicker of annoyance cross Noah’s features before he schooled it behind that mask of indifference again.

“The food’s fine. I’m tired, that’s all.” Ruth sighed. Food was not the subject she wanted to talk about right now, but since the copilot and any of the other passengers could hear their conversation, she remained silent.

Noah turned his attention back to the windscreen. “Take a catnap then.”

Underneath the pilot’s sparse words, Ruth continued to sense an ache, a loneliness that seemed to consume him from the inside out. She’d picked up on it during their flight out and had grown only more acutely aware of it.

Noah wasn’t the only one affected by some unknown force. At the bottom of her peripheral vision, she saw Houston lift his head from his paws as his tail slowly thumped on the carpeting. Her heart went out to both of them.

Shifting her gaze from Houston, Ruth looked out the tiny window. Suspended above the horizon, the almost full moon glowed, bathing the interior of the plane in a surreal splash of white. Too bad her emotions couldn’t absorb the peaceful feeling as she thought of Noah’s words.

“I’m better off staying awake until I can actually sleep for more than twenty minutes.” Ruth’s fingers tightened around the container of food.

The seams of the white box threatened to collapse under the pressure, so she forced herself to relax. No need to spill tomorrow’s lunch on the only lab coat not in the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in her hamper. As soon as she placed the container by her feet, Ruth pulled out her latest lame attempt at knitting a scarf. Keeping her fingers and mind occupied during flight usually helped, especially on the flights home when most of her work was done.

“Suit yourself.”

At his words, she closed her eyes again, but Noah’s strong, immobile and anguished face stared back at her. If only she could figure why their presence inside the aircraft caused such tension, then maybe she could bring a smile back to his lips.

Nice move, Barton.

Noah watched Ruth in the tiny mirror again. She sat in the same seat as earlier—the seat directly in front of the older woman, a Nancy something. The one who got airsick. So far so good. He’d been lucky, and up until now, no one had gotten airsick yet on one of his flights. Hopefully the woman wouldn’t break his record.

His attention drifted to the seat across the aisle from Ruth where the doctor sat. More specifically, the cooler by the man’s black shoes. Maybe Noah would be the first to christen his own plane. What disembodied piece of human anatomy lay packed on ice inside?

“It’s a heart.” Ruth whispered through the headset as if she’d read his mind. “What else would you like to know?”

“Nothing.” Noah refused to vocalize the words he wanted to shout in her direction. Why do you do what you do? Why can’t you leave people alone? But he’d already said enough.

The less he knew about his passengers, the better off he’d be. He didn’t want to know their business, where they’d gone to college or why they’d chosen to wear a certain sweater. Let Brad or the company’s other pilot Seth be known as the thoughtful, attentive pilots. Emotions got people into trouble. Emotions made people care.

Noah’s fingers tightened around the yoke until the whites of his knuckles gleamed. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. He would never fall in love again and experience the pain of having his heart ripped out of him. So why did his mouth go dry when he inhaled the hint of citrus and vanilla when Ruth was around?

“How soon will we be there?” Ruth’s voice intruded on his thoughts, enfolding him in her warmth again. A warmth he didn’t want to feel.

“About nine-thirty,” Noah growled. He couldn’t help it. Ruth Fontaine brought out the kind of behavior best left in the boxing ring of his youth. He’d been kidding himself to think he’d been over the deaths of Michelle and Jeremy. The vultures sitting behind him served as a constant reminder of his experience in the hospital. Different people with the same intention. He squeezed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep the nightmares from taking control during his waking hours.

“Thanks.” Her voice caused a spot of light but not enough to make him change his mind about her.

He still believed the doctors hadn’t done enough to save Jeremy because they wanted his organs. Noah would never forgive them for that.

After he heard Ruth update the hospital in Phoenix about their pending arrival, he glanced back again and noticed the knitting project and a ball of yarn she’d pulled out earlier rested in her lap but that the long needles in her hands remained motionless. Houston, his dog, curled up in the aisle by Ruth’s feet.

Traitor.

As if she sensed Noah’s gaze, her head tilted up. Her green eyes widened over the dark circles underneath them. “Did you need something?”

“No. Make sure your seat belts are fastened, folks. We’ll be there shortly.” After twisting around to face the front of the plane again his fingers tightened on the yoke. He needed something, all right. But Ruth Fontaine wasn’t the answer. He wanted the pain to go away. He wanted the clock to spin back three years so he could relive that last day with Jeremy and Michelle and keep them from riding their bikes to the grocery store.

He wanted his old life back.

But most of all, he wanted to know why the God he’d loved with all his heart had forsaken him and left him to wander alone and troubled.

Relief filled Ruth when the wheels of the plane touched the tarmac. After placing her knitting in her duffel bag, she bowed her head and clutched her hands together, her lips forming the prayer she always whispered once they were on the ground. Thank you, Lord, for our safe return. Please guide the surgeon’s hand in placing the organ You made available to us and grant the recipient a speedy recovery. Your will be done. Amen.

Her job was done for tonight. Once the ambulance carried the heart and her teammates away, Ruth hitched her duffel bag on her shoulder and turned to face the pilots. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you around.”

“My pleasure. Good night,” Brad responded and waved.

Noah cracked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine,” Ruth said, and before she had a chance to change her mind, Noah turned around and started writing in some type of log.

Fatigue followed her down the steps, across the tarmac and into the dimly lit parking lot where she spied her white Accord parked on the far end. Something didn’t look right. Unease scraped her spine and her body protested the pace. She should have taken Noah up on his offer to escort her to her car even if she’d had to wait a few minutes for him to finish his work. She quickly disabled the alarm, unlocked and opened the door and then slipped inside.

She hadn’t driven more than a few yards when the thumping noise started and the steering wheel tugged beneath her hands. Now she knew why her car had looked odd. “Great. Just great. Not now, God. Please. Not now.”

Her grip tightened. Since she could never fall asleep right away after a donation, a cup of tea, a bath and some Ben & Jerry’s were on the agenda for the rest of her evening, not a flat tire.

She pulled the car into the empty space beside a white truck, put it in park and stepped out. Walking around her car, she spied the problem. The right rear tire was flat. She kicked it and winced. Ouch. Now her toe throbbed. Next time she’d do better to remember to wear steel-toed shoes when taking out her frustration on a hard, inanimate object.

With help from the overhead light in the parking lot, Ruth rummaged through her purse. She pulled out yesterday’s gas receipt, a pen and then a card from her wallet and dialed her emergency car service. The not-so-distant wail of an emergency vehicle competed with a landing plane as she explained her situation.

“An hour? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She rolled her eyes. Their promptness left a lot to be desired as the bored voice on the other end droned away with some excuse. “Yes, I understand. I know it’s late.”

Ruth disconnected.

She glanced at her watch. Ten o’clock. Being stranded in an almost deserted parking lot at night made her more than a bit uneasy. A million butterflies took flight in her stomach. Especially when she heard the echo of footsteps approaching. She might just have to attempt to change the tire herself in a minute.

Ruth positioned her car keys in her hand to use them as a weapon if needed. Right. As if a small piece of metal could do much damage. The thought of taking one of the self-defense classes at the YMCA she belonged to struck her as a good idea. Jumping back inside her car, she locked the doors and waited for whoever caused those footsteps to go away.

Suddenly, two familiar figures emerged from the darkness. Ruth’s grip on her keys relaxed as Noah’s agitated gait and Houston’s boundless energy brought them to the vehicle next to hers. She watched Noah pause, take a few steps around the back of her car and then disappear. Houston barked. A few seconds later, she saw the pilot stand up and approach the driver side door, his dog at his heels.

With a forced smile, Ruth flipped on the ignition key and rolled down her window. Too bad she hadn’t pulled into the spot next to Brad’s car, wherever that was. No. Her knight in tarnished armor had to be the man least happy to see her. “Flat tire.”

“I see.” His lips formed a straight line.

“Don’t worry. The situation’s under control.” Ruth’s words held more conviction than she actually felt. She’d never changed a tire in her life, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of doing it. She’d just never had the opportunity. She could probably have it fixed by the time the other help arrived.

“Please pop the trunk, and I’ll change it for you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ve got it covered.”

Noah scraped a hand through his hair and stared at her.

“Look, Ruth. It’s late. Your car is disabled. I want to go home, but my conscience won’t allow me to leave you here stranded in the middle of the airport parking lot, which if you haven’t noticed is not exactly teeming with life right now.”

Ruth thought about her options. Wait in the dark for the tow truck to arrive, do it herself or let the handsome pilot wrapped in a blanket of sorrow put her spare on.

The pint of ice cream in her freezer called to her. Banana ice cream, fudge and walnuts just waiting to pass her lips and caress her taste buds. Fine. Ruth would watch Noah change it so she’d know how to do it next time.

“Oh, all right.” She popped the trunk and stepped out of the car. Noah had to be able to find the spare tire first. Her body protested the sudden movement as she strode to the rear and an incredulous looking Noah.

“What is all this?” Noah struggled with a large, blue duffel bag.

Out of habit, Ruth reached in and grabbed a business card from the side pocket and handed it to him before she hoisted the second bag out of the trunk. “CPR mannequins. I teach CPR classes on the side. I taught a class on Wednesday and forgot to take them out.”

Noah fumbled with the bag and dropped it, just missing his toes and his dog. He couldn’t have been more surprised than if the woman had said body parts. Death. Life. What a contradiction. An oxymoron. He stared at the blonde, trying to figure out how such two different people could reside in the same body. Only confusion racked his brain. Shaking his head cleared his mind of his thoughts, but the image of her wide, green eyes remained. So did her signature scent. So why did he tuck her card in his pocket instead of handing it back?

“The heat can’t be good for them.” Stepping away, Noah opened his tailgate to put the bags on in order to keep the bottoms clean. When he set his down, the contents hit the metal with a thud. No response. Ruth lugged the second one and set it down next to the first.

With the trunk now empty, he rolled back the carpet, exposing what he hoped was a useful spare and the tire iron. He handed her the L-shaped tool, then he tested the spare tire, glad to see it still held air.

“I have a blanket in the backseat of my truck. Could you get it out please?” Noah unscrewed the metal tab.

“Sure.”

He felt her gaze on his back as he wedged a rock behind her other rear tire to keep the car from moving while he jacked it up. A bead of sweat trailed down his cheek as he loosened the lug nuts in the dim light cast by the moon and overhead light fixture. After he unscrewed them, he placed them in the exact position from where he’d taken them from her tire. Probably a little fastidious on his part, but he firmly believed each nut belonged to each individual screw.

Just as man and woman were created for each other.

But his other half had died and nobody could take her place.

As Ruth called the car service to cancel her request, Noah worked off his anger on the tire and let it dissipate in the stifling silence around them. He threw the useless piece of rubber into the well vacated by the spare, the loud thunk breaking the silence.

The sooner he changed her tire, the sooner he could slip back into the life of limbo he’d been living for the past three years and forget the memories the woman dredged up.

Now that they were alone, Ruth decided to speak up. She coordinated entire teams during the donation process, so she could handle Noah. Before she changed her mind, she tapped him on the shoulder as he put the spare tire on.

His unguarded expression of sadness and hurt when he turned to acknowledge her made her heart flip. She clenched her damp hand around the stress ball inside her pocket again to keep from reaching out to comfort him.

“Yes?” His gaze roved over her features before a tiny smile split his solemn expression.

Her mouth opened but no words tumbled out. She clamped it shut. Heat crept to her cheeks again, and from experience, she knew they were as red as the blouse she wore underneath her lab coat. Her blushing had always proved to be a challenge—and the brunt of a lot of jokes from her colleagues. As if being a blonde and slightly overweight wasn’t enough. What she wouldn’t give for a whole garden full of weeds right now to take out her frustration.

“You wanted to say something?” Noah replaced the lug nuts and lowered the car back to the ground before he tightened them.

Ruth composed herself and straightened her shoulders. “I’m curious. Why do you think my team and I are vultures?”

“I was hoping you hadn’t heard that.” Noah stood and put her jack away before he dusted his hands.

“Well, I did. Care to clarify that comment?”

His unforgiving laughter skittered across her skin, raising goose bumps as he stood and threw the rock that he’d used to keep the car from rolling toward the chain link fence. “Not really. Let’s just say I don’t care for what you or your team of medical professionals do for a living.”

Ruth’s attention froze on Noah again, who now stood a few feet from her. The bleak expression carved into his face tugged at the thin string that seemed to connect them together at a subconscious level.

She shuddered as cold seeped into her pores. The overhead parking lot light cast his face into a series of shadows. She stepped back and bumped into the hard metal of the passenger side door. Noah’s words confirmed what she’d already suspected when she’d overheard their conversation. David had hated her job, too. At the time they were dating, Ruth had worked as an E.R. nurse and had just started to volunteer with the children. The irony that David worked in medical sales yet couldn’t handle not being the center of Ruth’s world was not lost on her.

After David’s defection and the death of another child she’d grown close to in the Children’s Center, she used the opportunity to become a coordinator and lessen the incompleteness she felt.

“My job brings hope and life to people who desperately need it.” As an agent of life, she stood on the Lord’s side to help others in need. Especially to those who’d drawn the short end of the stick when it came to functioning organs. Like her sister Rachel. Passion filled her voice. “Why can’t you see that?

“You and your God represent death.” His whisper sliced open her emotions and exposed them like raw, open wounds.

Ruth didn’t have to guess at his spirituality anymore. What had happened in his life to cause such a rift between Noah and God? She swallowed and fingered the child’s butterfly charm bracelet around her wrist. The smooth metal soothed her. The gift that child, Bonnie, had given her before she died before a suitable organ could be found was all the reminder she needed.

No semi-stranger, no matter what his affect on her, was going to tell her any differently. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Thanks for changing my tire. I’ll see you around.”