Читать книгу Flying Home - Mary Wilson Anne - Страница 9

CHAPTER ONE

HOME.

All Merry Brenner wanted to do was get home, but with a sinking heart, she realized that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. In skinny jeans, suede boots, an oversized red sweater, and her hands full with her meager luggage and purse, she stood off to one side of the crowded customer service desk at the airport.

Even though she’d flown all over the world with her mother and stepfather, who was an officer in the Air Force, she hated flying. She was a white knuckle flier at best, and after the rough unscheduled landing in Pueblo, Colorado, due to a “situation,” she was totally on edge.

Right now, she should be collecting her baggage at the carrousel in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where she thought she’d end her trip. Instead here she was, staring at the four attendants at the long counter giving every displaced passenger the same company line. “We do apologize for this inconvenience.” No mention of cars sitting in long term parking lots that were not going to be picked up, or loved ones waiting for them on the other end.

“Unfortunately, due to mechanical problems with your original plane, we have had to downsize to a smaller carrier.” That really meant, “You’re out of luck, unless you’re one of the chosen few who’d managed to finagle a seat on that alternate carrier.” Followed by what the company probably thought was a generous offer. “Of course, you can be put on standby for the other flights out to Santa Fe.”

There were two, and both had filled up immediately by displaced passengers. “Or there is a flight departing for Santa Fe...” Her hopes had risen when she’d heard that. “...at eight-fifty-two tomorrow with a five hour stopover in Denver.” Just where she didn’t want to be. “Arrival time in Santa Fe at seven-thirty tomorrow evening.”

Merry had put her name on all the lists, but still refused to accept the fact that there was no feasible way to get out of here tonight. Turning away in a huff, she didn’t bother to stick around to listen to their very generous offer of, “Admittance to the flight lounge that has WiFi, along with a complimentary voucher for a meal at the only restaurant in the terminal, and a coupon for fifty percent off your next flight anywhere in the contiguous states.”

She lugged her things toward a row of hard plastic chairs that overlooked the runways, and dropped everything at her feet. Then she sank down into the nearest chair and forced herself to stay calm.

All she had to do was get to Wolf Lake, New Mexico, a small town where tourists migrated to in the summer. In the winter it was a stop off for skiers before they headed farther north to the popular resorts higher in the mountains.

It was her home. It was where she’d moved six months ago, coming back after twenty years to settle there, to start a new job. Landing that position at The Family Center, to aid in the development of children who needed the help and guidance of a trained psychologist, had seemed like a dream come true for her. Because the truth was, she’d wanted to return to Wolf Lake from the moment her mother and stepfather had spirited her off to the first of many military posts they would relocate to over the years. Now she was back, or had been back, until she’d gone out of town for that three-day child development seminar in Chicago.

Swiping an errant strand of auburn hair off her cheek, she stared straight ahead on the concourse, barely noticing the people milling about in search of their flights. She was sitting still, but her mind was going a mile a minute trying to think of any way to get out of Pueblo and on her way back home. She’d already checked the car rentals, which had none available, and even asked at the charter counter, but immediately gave up that idea when she heard what it would cost. It was far beyond anything she could manage on the modest salary she earned from The Family Center.

The kids. She shook her head. They’d never understand that she’d broken her promise. Never. She’d told them she was going away to a conference for a few days, and that had been a bit upsetting for most of them. However, for Erin, a six-year-old girl, who was so small she could have passed for four years old, it had hit hardest. The child had stared at her intently, then thrown her arms around Merry’s legs and hugged Merry so tightly that it was almost painful.

Erin was alone in the world, her mother dead, her father serving a life term in prison. The girl with a wild mass of brilliant red curls, and pale, freckled skin, seldom talked. And she hadn’t uttered a word then, just moaned softly until Merry had settled her down. The promise she’d made to all the children, she made again to Erin privately. “Three days and nights, then I promise I’ll be back before you have to leave with Mrs. Harper.”

Maybe the child heard the honest intent of those words and trusted her, or maybe she just gave up. But either way, that promise would mean nothing now, not unless Merry could make good on it. The urgency in her to get home grew stronger and drove her to her feet.. Her kids, including Erin, didn’t understand excuses. She couldn’t afford to let them down. Her kids had special needs in varying degrees, but their foremost need was being able to depend on people close to them.

Merri looked around, frustrated, but still not giving up. She was proactive, as one of her college professors had pointed out without exactly saying that was a good thing. But she thought it was, so on impulse, canvased the other passengers stuck in the terminal in an attempt to see if she could secure one of their seats if they weren’t in a hurry. But, once again, she hit a brick wall. It seemed everyone diverted here wanted to get out as soon as possible. She looked around the main terminal, at the throngs of passengers going in and out of the souvenir and snack shops, checking out kiosks and generally killing time until the boarding call for their flights came over the PA system.

Merry was part of that same crowd, but unfortunately, she was not going to get any announcement in her favor anytime soon. Pacing restlessly around the concourse, she wound up back at the service desk for the airline again. Thankfully, most of the other passengers had been dealt with, and there were only a handful of people near the counters now.

“One more time,” she muttered to herself as she headed to the end of a line fronted by an anxious-looking young man, followed by an elderly couple. The young man abruptly pushed away from the counter, calling back over his shoulder, “Thanks for nothing,” as he stomped off. The couple moved to the desk, leaving Merry alone in the line. The gentleman spoke quietly to the agent, his tone polite, but his words indistinguishable. The elderly lady suddenly raised her voice to say, “But we have to get a flight out of here now!” Her voice took on a soft, plaintive whine as she turned toward the man beside her. “Ashford, tell this lady we have to get back to Los Angeles.”

The gentleman nodded, dropping an arm around his companion’s shoulders, and he spoke to the agent again in a louder voice. “Madam, this is not acceptable. We have opera tickets that are impossible to procure, and now you’re telling me that there will be two empty seats in the hall this evening! Unacceptable, totally unacceptable.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Who is your supervisor?”

“Andrew Davison,” the agent said, and directed them to his office before adding, “I hope Mr. Davison can do something to help you.”

With a shake of his head, the gentleman walked off with his lady, and the path was finally clear for Merry to get to the desk. Hi,” she said, hating the tightness in her voice as she forced a jittery smile at the agent whose name tag read Alice Z. “I need to get home, and arriving there tomorrow evening isn’t an option.”

April Z, a stunningly attractive blonde, looked a bit frayed from dealing with all those displaced passengers, but that polite smile remained. “I’m so sorry, but there are no open seats on the flights out to Los Angeles right now.”

Merry stopped her. “I’m trying to get to Santa Fe. My original plane was going to go on to L.A., but I was getting off in Santa Fe.”

“Oh,” the woman said, but that information didn’t change her demeanor one bit. “I can put you on standby for a flight to Santa Fe if you like? Or do you have a medical emergency, family crisis, or any other compelling reason that you have to be on a flight now?”

Alice Z. looked at her expectantly, but Merry knew that no one would think that her reason for needing to get home would be compelling to anyone except her. “Um...no, nothing like that.”

With what looked like real disappointment, the pretty blonde turned to the nearest computer screen, tapped it with a slender finger, then said, “Your last name?”

“Brenner.”

“Ah, yes, here you are. I can get you out on a flight out in the morning.”

“I already heard that. It goes to Denver first, then a five hour layover before it gets to Santa Fe tomorrow evening.”

“Then apparently you know what I know,” the agent said with a sigh.

“I just have to get home,” she reiterated desperately. “There has to be some way to do that and get there by tonight. It isn’t that far.”

April Z. turned back to the computer screen, taking several moments scrolling the information, then reached behind her for a swivel chair and dropped down in it before turning back in Merry’s direction. “I usually love my job,” she muttered, “but right about now...”

As her words trailed off, Merry found herself in the position of showing a degree of sympathy. “I know. You’ve done your best.”

The woman spread her hands. “This airport is not huge, and we just do not have the kind of resources that the other main airports have.” She hesitated. “Believe me, if I had any way to get you on an alternative flight or get you a rental car, I would. Or arrange a charter, even.”

“Charters are out of the question,” Merry said quickly.

“It’s pretty important you get home, isn’t it?”

“I’m supposed to be home today, by the evening at the latest. I know that’s the same song and dance that you’re hearing from all the passengers, but I’ve got a promise I need to fulfill to my kids.”

She saw April’s eyes soften slightly. “You have children?”

“Oh, no, at least, not my own. I’m a child psychologist and I’m on a grant at The Family Center in a small reservation town northeast of Santa Fe called Wolf Lake.”

“I’ve heard of it,” April said with a nod.

“The children I work with are challenged by their limitations and by their lives. I had to be at a seminar the past few days, but when I left, I promised them I would be back today before they went home.” She picked up her bags and released a heavy sigh. “I never thought about this happening, but I’ll figure this out, someway. Thanks for trying.”

“Sure, and good luck,” April Z. said, then called after her, “If I find anything at all, I’ll page you, okay?”

“Thanks,” she replied as she headed away from the counter. She felt exhausted, not to mention disgruntled that even though she’d given it her best shot, it hadn’t made a difference. Worse yet, she didn’t know what to do now, except call Dr. Moses Blackstar, who was her supervisor at the Center, and fill him in on what was going on.

Merry headed off to find a place to sit and make the call, then settled for a seat by a side window and dropped down in the thinly padded chair. Setting her luggage at her feet, she sank back and glanced out the windows as a sleek, smaller jet climbed out of sight into the gray, cloudy sky.

She almost chuckled at a crazy image that came to her of her standing on the runway, thumb out, trying to hitch a ride on one of those private jets. They had to seat eight or ten, and surely one of them would have an empty seat and be heading to the Santa Fe area. Then the humor died as she fumbled around in her purse to find her cell phone.

She called Dr. Blackstar’s number, but it was a dead end. The doctor was in an emergency surgery and his assistant was gone for the day. She left a message, briefly explaining about her delay and that she was still trying to get back. Then she called an associate at the center—Marsala O’Brian, a twenty-two-year-old intern working under the grant, too.

The girl picked up on the second ring. “Merry, are you back?”

“No, I’m not.” She described her situation, then added, “I’m trying as hard as I can to find out how to make it back there today, but so far I’ve hit nothing but brick walls.”

“What a mess, but it’s good that they landed safely, isn’t it? I mean, those planes are huge and—” She bit off her words. “Forget I said that. You’re okay and that’s what’s important.”

“But I promised the kids,” she said softly.

“And you’ll be back, just a bit later than you said. I can explain it to them, and tomorrow you can explain it to them yourself.”

That made sense, but that didn’t mean she was going to sit back and wait for tomorrow. “Thanks, Marsala. But don’t say anything to them until I know for sure if I can’t get back. I’ll call you as soon as I know, okay?”

“Yes. I’ll wait until six, when they’re being picked up. That’s just two hours. Can you get here by then?”

“Maybe not, but just wait until I call you back.”

“You got it.”

“One more thing? Could you tell Erin one on one, not with the boys around? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course I can. I’ll do it first.”

“I owe you big time,” she said, then ended the call and stood.

It was two in the afternoon, and something had to happen soon if she had any chance of getting back by this evening. She grabbed her bags and purse, then decided to make one last trek to the car rental counter at the far end of the terminal. There was still hope.

As she strode along the concourse, ignoring the gift shops and boutiques on her way, she glanced out the windows overlooking the runway. She saw another small jet taking off, glittering silver in the streaks of sunlight that cut through the gathering grayness of high clouds. She paused to watch the elegant carrier until it was out of sight, thinking that if she only had money, she could charter a plane like that. Well, maybe not like that one, but a plane that could get her home in time.

“That would take a miracle,” she breathed at the same time a man cut across the walkway directly in front of her.

She managed to sidestep any impact, but he never even noticed her, he was so intent on the call he was taking on the cell phone pressed to his ear. There was no three piece business suit on his six-foot-plus frame, but instead, he gave more of an impression of an impatient cowboy, in snug jeans, a sheared wool trimmed denim jacket and scuffed boots that were as well worn as the rest of his getup. A baseball cap was the only thing not determinedly Western about the man.

She watched him stop halfway between where she stood on the walkway and the desk for charter flights over by the windows. He tugged sharply at the dark cap worn over slightly shaggy, midnight-black hair, framing an angular clean shaven face. When someone bumped her from behind, trying to get past her, Merry moved to her right, and off the walkway to get out of the way. The maneuver brought her closer to the man she’d been watching. In fact, she was near enough to hear most of his end of the conversation.

“I’ll check with him as soon as I can.” He listened, glanced around, his dark eyes sliding right past Merry, before he exhaled. “I told you, I’m waiting for clearance.” Pausing, his attention apparently on the tiled floors underfoot now. “Nothing serious. A glitch. You know how it goes.” He checked the watch on his wrist. “Soon. They said it was almost done. Should be up in half an hour at the most.”

While he was speaking, Merry saw a security guard approach the man, then hesitate before he reached out to tap the stranger on the shoulder. At first the man kept talking. “You, too. I’ll call when I get a chance.” The guard tapped his shoulder again, and the man turned to him, but still spoke into the phone as he held up a forefinger to acknowledge the guard. “Let me know if I can help. I have to go,” he said, finishing the call. “What is it?” he asked. The guard straightened a bit before speaking.

“Are you Mr. Gage Carson?” He nodded and the guard looked relieved. “They sent me to let you know the work’s done on your ride, and you’ve been cleared to take off in the next half hour.”

Merry didn’t hear the rest of the conversation between the two men as she stared at Gage Carson. A miracle? She couldn’t believe the luck or Fate or serendipity or whatever was at work here.

Gage Carson. The man, dressed like a roughhewn working cowboy, was the adult version of a young teenager she’d known over twenty years ago in Wolf Lake. Well, she hadn’t actually known him, but she’d seen him enough around town with his two brothers, and she knew of him. Everyone knew the Carsons, and she remembered him all too well.

Now he was within ten feet of her, talking to the guard about his “ride” and “taking off soon.” To make this a true miracle, he had to be going to Wolf Lake. She knew there was an airstrip on the Carson ranch.

The guard nodded at something Gage had said before striding off into the growing crowd from a flight disembarking farther down the concourse. But her full attention was on the man who could just be her own personal savior. All she had to do was figure out the best way to talk him into helping her get back to Wolf Lake.

Suddenly, Gage Carson turned, startling her as he seemed to look right at her. But before she could raise a hand and introduce herself, his gaze skimmed right past her as if she didn’t exist. Abruptly, he made for the nearest desk for the charter businesses near the windows.

It wouldn’t be farfetched, if the man, who led one of the largest construction and architectural corporations in the country, owned one of those sleek corporate jets. Or at least, chartered one of them. Chartering made things a bit more complicated, but it was still doable. She could play on the old hometown connection and snag a ride if the plane was his, and offer to make payments to share the cost of the charter once they got back. One way or another, if he was going to Wolf Lake, she was going too.

She watched him speaking to a woman agent, so attractive that Merry wondered if beautiful women were the only type that the airport employed. The two talked, leaning toward each other across the desk, and although she could only see Gage’s back, she didn’t miss the dazzling smile on the woman’s face as he spoke to her. She was nodding, touching his arm to make a point, and then lifted her hand to break the connection and motion to the row of specialty shops on the far side of the walkway.

Merry’s stomach was in a knot as Gage retraced his steps, coming toward her, then going right past her without looking up. She had to make this happen. She’d do her best to reason with him, and even beg if she had to. She glanced back to the counter, saw the attendant was alone at the desk and boldly crossed to her. Merry made herself smile, knowing it was a mere shadow of the version the woman had offered Gage moments ago. “Can I ask you something?”

The woman looked up and nodded. “Why, of course, that’s why I’m here.”

Merry motioned behind her. “Was that Gage Carson?”

Obviously the wrong way to start the conversation. Privacy had to be one thing a moneyed business, like a luxury jet charter, offered its clientele without any question. The woman’s expression changed from warm to cautious. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh, no,” Merry said quickly. “I just hadn’t heard anything about him being back...in Wolf Lake. You see, our hometown’s so small, everyone knows everything about everybody and no one mentioned he had made a visit.”

“Maybe he hasn’t made it there yet,” the woman offered, confirming to Merry that he was heading there.

Perfect. “Maybe not,” she conceded, trying to control her growing excitement. “I just never expected to see him here, either. You know, on a charter. After all, the word is he’s got tons of money. But maybe it makes more sense to lease instead of buy. I don’t know anything about big business.”

The woman seemed a bit put off by Merry’s confession. “I wouldn’t know, but most men in his position have a company plane. He’s no different.”

His own plane! She felt like screaming, “Yes,” and pumping her fist, but instead she shrugged. “Of course.”

“You’re friends with Mr. Carson?” the woman asked, the smile all but gone now.

“I knew him since we were kids,” she said, deliberately slanting the truth toward the idea that they’d been close. Merry left without another word and carried her bags across to the store that Gage had entered.

She stepped in, and spotted him in a rear display area, looking at snow globes. He lifted one, shook it, put it back, and repeated those actions as he worked his way through about a dozen or so ornaments. She took a breath, tried to still her hammering heart, then headed toward the man.