Читать книгу Texas Heir - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 10

Cari awoke to pain and a throbbing in her head. Not another Tylenol morning. She opened her eyes and the pain was overtaken by fear.

Where was she?

Something held her in place. A seat belt. Was she in her car? No. She was jammed against something hard and a heavy object was on top of her. Opening her eyes more she saw wires hanging from the ceiling, compartments flung open, items strewn everywhere. She was covered in debris.

The plane had crashed!

Everything came flooding back.

Melody lay in the doorway to the cockpit and she could see Fletcher slumped over in his seat. The nose of the plane had been pushed forward and the instrument panel pressed against the pilot. She didn’t know if he was dead or alive.

An eerie quiet filled the cabin.

Reed!

Raising her head, she winced and noticed blood on her hand. A shard of glass stuck out of the soft flesh near her thumb. She bit her lip, pulled it out and held her hand against her chest to stop the bleeding. Otherwise she was okay. Or at least she thought she was, just cuts, bruises and aches.

Reed’s chair was twisted and his head rested against the side of the cabin, which seemed to be tilted and crushed in slightly. He was bleeding, his shirt soaked with bright red.

Ohmygod!

He needed help. She pushed debris off her and managed to unsnap her seat belt. As she struggled to her feet a wave of dizziness assailed her. The plane wasn’t level, so it made the dizziness worse. The cabin was pushed together and there was very little room. She gripped the wobbly captain’s chair and reached for the pulse in Reed’s neck. She didn’t find one. Ohmygod! No!

Take a deep breath. Stay focused.

Trying to keep her nerves from spiraling out of control, she stepped over more debris and made her way to Melody by holding on to parts of the shattered plane. The cabin was so mangled Cari couldn’t stand upright. She knelt by Melody, checking her pulse. None. Blood oozed from her head. Cari wouldn’t let herself think as she frantically tried to reach Fletcher. Parts of the plane dangled from above, blocking her reach. Then she smelled it.

Fuel.

Smoke.

Ohmygod!

Stay focused! They need you.

The door of the plane had been ripped away. She peered outside. A chilly foreboding swept over her and she trembled. The crushed plane was balancing precariously on a ledge or a mountain. She knew they had to get out and get out fast.

Her high heels crunched on Waterford crystal. She had a sudden urge to laugh hysterically—but she had to get them out. She couldn’t fall apart.

It was hard to stay balanced in her heels, but there was glass everywhere, so she couldn’t remove them. She unsnapped Reed’s seat belt and shook him. “Reed, wake up. Please, wake up.” He didn’t move or make a sound. Blood dripped from his head onto her hands. She grabbed a towel from the floor and wrapped it tightly around his head and then she pulled and dragged him as close to the door as she could. He weighed a ton but she never paused in her struggle. Once there, she placed his arms halfway out the door.

She glanced down, kicked off her heels and jumped. Since the door was tilted down, she misjudged the distance and almost fell flat on her face. Pain shot through her body, but she quickly scrambled to her feet. Looking up, she caught her breath. The opening seemed so far away. The plane was a mangled mess. How was she still living? Oh God! She had to take several deep breaths.

Focus! Focus!

She had to get Reed and the others out before the plane ignited. She stood on her tiptoes until she could grab Reed’s hands, and then she tugged and tugged with all her strength. Slowly, she inched him forward. Catching her breath, she reached for his armpits and dragged him out. Once his weight shifted, his body slid forward quickly and took them both to the ground. She struggled to her feet and grabbed hold of him once again. Her muscles strained and her arms burned, but she jerked and pulled until she had him safely away from the shattered plane.

Now she had to get Melody and Fletcher. Taking a deep breath, she sprinted back toward the plane. A loud explosion flung her backward. Flames roared through the crumpled fuselage.

No! No!

The excessive heat yanked her from the abyss of terror. She rose and pulled Reed farther away from the flames. Then she collapsed into a ball of fear, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She drew her knees to her chin. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she tried to stop the tremors. In a chilled stupor, she watched the smoldering plane until nothing was left but a melted heap of twisted metal.

Hot, smoldering metal.

The rain had stopped, so there was nothing to cool the offensive heat. She didn’t know how long she sat there lost somewhere between Dallas and this horrendous nightmare. When reality returned, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was holding Reed’s hand.

Praying.

Praying for a pulse. Praying he was alive. But he just seemed cold. The towel was soaked with blood, but it looked as if the bleeding might have stopped. That was good. More tears followed. She cried for Fletcher and Melody and she cried for life’s cruel injustice. After a moment she pulled herself together.

Looking around, it seemed as if they were on a crater of the moon—dirt and rocks and nothing else except an endless sky. Not the moon, but probably a mountain somewhere in west Texas.

They had to just wait and someone would find them.

Someone would rescue them.

She prayed it was in time to save Reed.

RICHARD PRESTON HUNG UP the phone as his wife, Vanessa, entered his study.

“Are you ready?” she asked. Even in her late fifties she was still an attractive woman with blond hair and a svelte figure flattered by a Vera Wang suit. She had the body of a dancer and she never grew tired of reminding him of what she’d given up for marriage and motherhood. He wasn’t going to think about that, though. They were getting along and their children were happy. Life was good.

“I don’t feel like going to the Maxwells’ for dinner,” he said, testing the waters. The Maxwells were her ballet friends and they bored him to death with endless chatter about the next greatest dancer to grace Lincoln Center.

When she frowned, he quickly added, “I just got off the phone with Clyde Harwood. He and Muriel are planning an engagement party for Reed and Daphne. They would like a list of guests by the end of the week.”

“So.” She lifted a finely arched eyebrow. “An evening with friends isn’t going to delay the list. Admit it, you just don’t want to go.”

“Maybe. I’m all keyed up about Reed’s engagement and I would prefer to stay home. Our son has made an excellent choice. Daphne is a charming, sophisticated young lady who will do the Preston name proud.”

“Yes, Daphne will make Reed an exceptional wife.”

Richard stood. “I was worried he’d fall for Cari Michaels.”

“Cari’s a nice girl and a very good friend to Marisa.”

“But she’s not suitable as a wife for our son.”

Vanessa sighed. “Oh, Richard, haven’t you learned your lesson? We almost lost Marisa and I will not tolerate you doing anything to jeopardize Reed’s happiness.”

“That’s what is so wonderful. Reed made the perfect choice all on his own.”

“I don’t know. Marisa seems to have reservations and I trust her instincts. I just hope Reed is as deeply in love as our daughter.”

“He is. You can see it.”

Vanessa nodded. “They make a lovely couple. Marisa is very fond of Cari and I think she’s more disappointed Reed and Cari didn’t get together than anything else.”

Richard smiled at his wife. “That’s it. Reed made a choice without pressure from Marisa or me. That’s why I’m so excited and would rather stay home to go over the guest list. It will be the party of the year.”

She lifted an eyebrow again. “Maybe. Get your jacket. You’re going tonight. We have something to celebrate.”

“Vanessa…”

A tap at the door stopped him. Winston, the butler, stepped in. “Sir, there’s a gentleman here to see you, a Mr. Darin Avery, a representative from the regional office of the National Transportation Safety Board.”

Richard frowned. “What does he want? Is there a problem with the plane?”

“I don’t know, sir. Would you like for me to send him in?”

“Yes.”

A balding man with a worried expression walked in. “Mr. and Mrs. Richard Preston?”

“Yes,” Richard replied. “What’s this about?”

“I regret to inform you the Dalton jet went down at 1439 hours somewhere in west Texas.”

Richard felt a blow to his chest. “What?”

“No!” Vanessa screamed and Winston rushed in.

“As soon as the weather clears, we’ll have planes in the air searching for the wreckage. I just wanted to let you know before the story broke on the news. You have my deepest regrets.”

“My son…my son, is he alive?” Vanessa asked, holding on to Winston.

“We don’t know, ma’am, but—”

“Don’t say it,” Richard shouted. “My son is alive. He has to be.”

“I’ll be in touch, sir.” He laid a card on the desk. “If you need anything, you can reach me on my cell.” He walked out.

“Richard…”

“Vanessa, just stay calm.”

“Calm!” she screeched. “Our son has just gone down in a plane. I can be as emotional as I want! I have to call Marisa. I need Marisa.”

She reached for the phone as Winston handed her a glass of brandy.

Richard sank into his chair, refusing to believe his son was anything but alive. He had to be. His whole future was waiting for him.

A future Richard had precisely planned.

CARI REMOVED THE TOWEL from Reed’s head. A cut zigzagged across his left temple and a dark bruise spread from his ear to his hairline, but the bleeding had stopped. Since she didn’t have anything else, she wrapped the blood-caked towel around his head again.

Soon someone would come.

Reed’s sun-browned skin was so pale, and she checked his pulse. A faint beat trembled against her fingers.

“Reed!” she shouted in joy. “Can you hear me? Reed!”

A low moan escaped his throat and she cupped his face. “Reed.”

The moan grew stronger and his eyelids fluttered. Excitement ran through her. He was alive! She continued to call his name until his eyes slowly opened.

“Ca-ri.”

“Yes, yes!” Without thinking, she kissed his cheek. She was just so glad he was alive.

“Wh-ere are we?”

“The plane crashed and I’m guessing we’re somewhere in west Texas.”

“Wh-ere’s Fletcher and Melody?”

When she didn’t answer, he sat up and groaned, grabbing his head.

“Take it easy.”

He caught sight of the pile of twisted, burned metal. “Is…is…that…?”

She swallowed. “Yes. That’s all that’s left of the plane.”

“Oh my God! How did we get out?”

“I pulled you out.”

“Fletcher and Melody?” His voice was hopeful despite the anguish imprinted on his face.

“I was going back to get them when the plane exploded, but they…were…already dead.” She had to believe that.

He buried his face in his blood-covered hands. She wrapped her arms around him. “A rescue team should be here soon.”

He raised his head. “But not in time for Fletcher and Melody.”

“No.” She felt his tears as they dripped onto her cheek and she tightened her arms, her face buried in his chest. His arms went around her like a vise and they grieved for the two people they’d lost. They sat that way minutes or maybe hours. She wasn’t sure, but the light was fading. Raindrops peppered their heads. They had to find shelter.

She untangled from him and stood, surveying the desolate, bare scenery. They were in the middle of nowhere and as she looked out, she saw more of the same. More mountains, more desolate landscape.

“What are you doing?”

“We have to find shelter for the time being.” She glanced toward the darkening sky. “It looks like another thunderstorm is on the way. Stay here. I’m going to scout around.”

“Cari…”

“I’ll be okay, Reed. Just rest. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“I can’t seem to do much else at the moment,” he replied in a low voice.

She walked away on the uneven terrain in her stocking feet. Several deep indentations had been hollowed out in the mountain from the elements. They could possibly use one as a cave until a search party arrived.

Lastly, she moved toward the charred wreckage. Pieces still smoldered. She didn’t know what she was hoping to find. Something. Anything. She peered over the side of the mountain. A wing from the plane, a wheel, objects she couldn’t identify and several personal items had been thrown free.

A backpack caught her eye. If there was clothing inside she could use it to bandage Reed’s wound. The backpack was on a steep incline going down to nowhere. Could she reach it?

Ever since she fell out of a tree as a kid, she’d had a fear of heights. Flying had been a challenge, but her job was important to her so she had conquered it. Now she had to find the courage to crawl down and retrieve the pack.

Reed was still sitting with his head buried on his knees, so weak and needing medical attention. Without a second thought, she turned around and inched down the side of the mountain. Her stocking feet were a problem. Damn, she should have removed them, but she wasn’t climbing back up to do that. Luckily she was able to find footholds on clumps of dirt and rocks, which scratched the bottom of her feet. But she kept going.

As she put pressure on one rock, it came loose and tumbled down, carrying a load of dirt with it. Cari closed her eyes, sucked in a breath and held on to a scraggly bush for dear life. Dust clogged her sinuses and she tasted it in her mouth along with her fear. She took a long ragged breath, said a prayer and found another foothold.

Finally she reached the backpack. It was pink and black, so she knew it must have belonged to Melody. With one hand she reached for it and slipped one arm through. Then she did the same with the other arm. Tentatively, she started the trek back up.

She climbed over the top as raindrops started to fall. Staggering to her feet, she ran to Reed.

“We have to find shelter,” she said, plopping down beside him.

He raised his head and his eyes were unfocused, dazed, and she wondered if he was going to pass out. “Wh-at?”

Slipping an arm around his waist, she asked, “Can you stand?” Within minutes she had him on his feet, but he swayed. With a fierce grip she led him to the partial cave that had a slight overhang. Just as she did, the heavens opened and torrential rain splattered the terrain.

She shrugged off the backpack and placed it on the ground. Reed slumped against her and she watched as the rain beat down on the wreckage.

After a moment she turned her attention to Reed. He probably had a concussion, so she had to keep him awake. She shook him several times and kept talking, but he was so out of it she finally gave up. Her strength was waning, too. The sound of the rain was hypnotic and she drifted into an exhausted, restless sleep.

MARISA KINCAID HURRIED into her father’s study followed by her husband. “Have you heard anything?”

“No, sweetheart, we’re still waiting,” Richard replied.

“Where’s Mother?”

“She’s in her room. The doctor sedated her, but I’m sure she’d be happy to see you. Actually, she keeps calling for you.”

“I’ll go right up.” She turned and then pivoted to face Richard. “Have you notified Cari’s family?”

“No. I thought I’d wait until we heard something definite.”

“I suppose that’s best.” His daughter’s face crumpled and Richard saw the first crack in her strong facade. Colter put his arm around her and she clung to him.

Richard didn’t think he was ever going to get used to this cowboy being his son-in-law. Marisa had her choice of the most eligible bachelors in the country, yet she chose a rodeo cowboy. For his daughter and grandchildren, he tried his best to like the man. And he wasn’t so bad. Colter had a lot of qualities Richard admired: responsibility, honesty and loyalty. It was his blue-collar roots that got Richard.

Daphne stepped into the room. “Has there been any news?”

Now, there was class and breeding, a woman who had it all. How he wished Marisa had made such a good choice.

“I’m afraid not,” Richard answered. “The weather is still a factor.”

Marisa wiped away a tear and looked at Daphne. “You’re taking this very well.”

“Of course. It’s not going to do me any good to fall apart.”

“Yes. Heaven forbid,” Marisa said and walked out.

Colter twisted his hat. “Her brother and her best friend are probably dead, so you can understand her state of mind.” He placed his hat on his head. “Or maybe not.” Saying that, he followed Marisa.

“What did he mean?” Daphne asked.

“Never mind. Everyone is a little emotional.” Richard walked to her. “How are you, my dear?”

“I’m okay.” She glanced at her watch. “I have an interview at a TV station in about an hour, so I better go.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“It’s better than them hounding me. I’ll give them an interview and they’ll leave me alone.”