Hometown Hope

by Laurel Blount

  What was going to happen when Anna said no? Because judging from the look on her face, there was no way she was going anywhere near that airplane.

  Anna’s gaze fastened onto his for a second, then she half turned in the front seat to look back at Jess. “Are you asking me to go up in that plane, sweetie?” Hoyt held his breath as Jess hesitated, her eyes darting from him to Anna.

  “Yes.”

  It might have been the softest whisper Hoyt had ever heard, but it was definitely an answer. Jess was talking to Anna.

  His little girl had just taken another huge step forward.

  But the joyful relief that surged up in him was mixed with fear. Everything he’d prayed for hinged directly on what Anna did next.

  He caught her green eyes with his and tried his best to communicate silently. Please, Delaney. This matters. Please don’t say no. Not now.

  He could tell Anna understood him. She instantly went about five shades paler, but she managed a choppy nod. “Well, fine, then. Since you’re asking me, Jess. Let’s do it!”

  Hoyt’s heart swelled with gratitude—and guilt. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” she muttered, pushing open the truck door. “I’m not. But I’m doing it anyway.”

  * * *

  “What are you up to now?” Anna watched nervously as Hoyt fiddled with various levers and dials inside the cockpit of the plane. “What’s wrong? Why haven’t we started?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m going through a preflight checklist. You do it every time you get ready to fly.”

  “Why? Because something might be wrong?”

  “It’s a routine safety precaution. We’ll get underway in a minute or two.” Hoyt glanced over at her and smiled. “Take a few deep breaths and try to relax.”

  Easy for him to say. He and Jess seemed right at home in this flimsy contraption. She hadn’t been far off the mark when she’d described the little plane as a tin can. Anna had been horrified at how light and fragile the door had felt when she’d climbed inside. When she’d pointed it out, Hoyt had laughed.

  “You wouldn’t want a heavy airplane, would you?”

  Well, maybe not. But she’d sure prefer one that didn’t feel like it had come out of some gigantic gumball machine.

  Then there were all these complicated dials and gauges spread across the dash in front of her. She couldn’t imagine what all these things did, and she absolutely couldn’t fathom being in charge of a machine like this. She had trouble navigating the learning curve every time she upgraded her phone.

  Yet there was Hoyt Bradley, flipping levers and pushing buttons like some sort of pro. More to the point, here she was, sitting beside him, preparing to place her life in the hands of a guy whose main claim to fame was that he was once really good at knocking people down on a football field.

  Maybe Hoyt wasn’t the one veering into crazy territory here.

  But Jess had directly asked her to do this, and Anna hadn’t needed Hoyt’s unspoken plea to understand how earth-shatteringly important that was. She’d get through this somehow, for Jess’s sake.

  She had no idea how. But she would.

  He turned on a switch, and Anna jumped as the plane’s engine sputtered to life. The noise didn’t do much to make her feel safer. The thing sounded like a souped-up lawnmower.

  “All right! Here we go. Everybody ready?”

  Jess clapped, and Anna nodded. It wasn’t technically a lie if you didn’t say it out loud, right?

  Now Hoyt was talking some sort of gibberish into a radio that crackled and spoke gibberish back to him.

  Her heart hammering, Anna squeezed her eyes closed and prayed silently. Please, Lord. Please. She didn’t bother to elaborate. She didn’t have to. God knew what she was dealing with.

  The plane moved, and her eyes flew open. They were trundling down the pavement, flimsy wings wobbling, apparently headed toward the strip where the other plane had landed.

  This was really happening. This glorified cola can was about to be airborne.

  By the time Anna realized what was happening, it was already too late. Her breath was coming in short, staccato bursts, and her heart was beating so hard that her chest ached. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think.

  She had to have air.

  She had to get out.

  She began fumbling at the seat belt that held her strapped into the seat.

  “Anna, what are you doing? I told you, the seat belt stays on for the whole flight.” She heard Hoyt talking, but his voice seemed to come from a distance, muffled by loud gasps that she dimly realized were coming from her own mouth.

  “S-stop.” It was all she could manage between desperate attempts to suck air into her lungs. Then the gray mist that had fuzzed across her vision darkened, and the whole world went black.

  Chapter Four

  When she came to, Anna was lying flat on the ground, grass bristling against her back. Somebody had her hand clamped in a death grip, and she whimpered a protest.

  The noise only made the painful pressure increase. “I think she’s coming around. Anna, hang on, okay? You’re going to be fine. Just try to breathe.”

  The man talking didn’t sound like he believed a word he was saying. That had to be Hoyt. He’d never been a good liar. She’d always been able to tell when he hadn’t done Mrs. Abercrombie’s reading assignments.

  Her eyes fluttered open. Sure enough, Hoyt’s face swam into wobbly focus. He was kneeling beside her, as white as a sheet, his eyes worried.

  As her field of vision widened, she saw that she was surrounded by a circle of men, their faces displaying varying levels of curiosity and concern. Everett held Jess in his arms, and she had her face buried against his plaid shirt.

  Everyone else was staring at Anna.

  “I’m okay,” she managed to croak.

  “Of course you are,” Hoyt’s tone was soothing, but then he turned his head and barked at the gawking men. “Somebody get her some water!” After a flurry of whispered conversation, two men broke away from the circle and ran off.

  The rest of them continued to stare and Anna felt anxiety mounting a second attack on her nervous system.

  “Pills,” she remembered suddenly. “I have pills in my purse.”

  Hoyt barked another command, but Anna missed what he said. A shrill, wailing sound drowned out his words.

  Sirens. Her glance darted back to Hoyt’s face, and she saw relief breaking in his worried eyes.

  “Good. The paramedics are here.”

  Oh, no. “You called an ambulance?”

  Hoyt seemed taken aback by her dismay. “You passed out, Anna, and you couldn’t seem to get a decent breath. So yeah, I called an ambulance. You need to be checked out.”

  This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

  Except that it was. She heard doors slamming and running footsteps. The ring of men broke apart to allow two intent-looking men in uniforms to her side.

  “Ma’am? Please stay still.” They crouched on the ground as Anna attempted to lever herself up on her elbows.

  “I’m fine. No, please. You don’t need to take my blood pressure. It’ll be through the roof. It always is after something like this, but it’ll go back down as soon as I get my medicine. Where’s that guy with my purse?”

  “Ma’am, it’s all right. We just need to assess your situation.” The dark-haired paramedic glanced up at the men. “What happened?” He scanned Anna’s face, his face a picture of professional concern.

  “She couldn’t breathe,” Hoyt volunteered. “She was gasping for air just before she passed out.”

  Gasping for air. Anna had a mental picture of herself looking like a landed trout. It wasn’t attractive. This was so humiliating.

  The medic nodded and then turned his attention back to Anna. “Were
you having an asthma attack?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that.”

  A balding man in a green T-shirt raced up and threw her shoulder bag in Hoyt’s direction. “Here, Bradley, I grabbed her purse out of your truck. Is she all right?”

  The second paramedic snagged the bag and unzipped it, rifling through its contents. “What am I looking for, ma’am? An inhaler?” Before she could answer, he unearthed her prescription bottle and scanned its label. Understanding dawned on his face. “Ah. You take these regularly?”

  “Not anymore. This is the first time this has happened in months,” Anna murmured miserably. She wished the ring of spectators would go away. She really didn’t want to have this discussion in front of half of Pine Valley. “I almost threw those pills away.”

  The paramedic handed her the medicine bottle. “You might want to hang on to them. Panic attacks can be sneaky. You never know what’s going to trigger them.”

  Maybe not. From where she was sitting, Anna could see the plane they’d been in, angled oddly on the runway, its doors gaping open. But sometimes you had a pretty good idea.

  She should have seen this coming. Especially after what she’d found in her father’s journal a few weeks ago, she should have—

  “A panic attack?” Hoyt echoed. “That’s what this was?”

  “Yeah, looks like it. You were smart to call 911, though.” The second paramedic zipped up his bag. “These things can mimic more serious conditions, and it’s always better to be safe than sorry. In fact, I’d like to transport you to the hospital, if that’s all right, ma’am. That’s standard protocol, and it never hurts to be checked over after something like this.”

  “No. No, I don’t want to go to the hospital.” She couldn’t afford to pay for that, especially when she knew it wasn’t necessary.

  “That’s totally your choice. I have a waiver you can sign if you’re sure.”

  Josh, the new pilot, skidded up to the group, a bottle of water in his hand. He thrust it at Hoyt. “Here. Is she going to be all right?”

  “Yep!” Everett answered, bouncing Jess gently in his arms. “False alarm, thankfully. The lady’s going to be just fine. You all can get on back about your business now.”

  The men started to drift away as Hoyt knelt back down beside Anna and handed her the cold bottle of water. Anna returned the signed waiver to the paramedic and darted a look up at Hoyt’s face. He was starting to get some of his color back, but he still looked dazed.

  “You’re sure she’s all right?” he asked the medics.

  “As sure as we can be without taking her in for more tests.” There was a loud ripping sound as the paramedic unwound the cuff from her arm. “Her blood pressure’s up a bit, but that’s to be expected. It’ll simmer back down. You should go ahead and take one of those pills, ma’am. That’ll help.” The man turned his attention to Hoyt. “Bradley, did they say your name was? Have we met before?”

  “Yeah. We have.” Pain spasmed across Hoyt’s face as he offered the man a handshake. “You answered a call to my home a few years back.”

  “That’s right! Your wife, wasn’t it?” The man’s eyes flicked to the quivering little girl in Everett’s arms, then back at Hoyt. The paramedic nodded once, and for a few seconds the two men shared a long, silent look. Then the other man cleared his throat. “We’re all done here. Let me help you up, ma’am.”

  “I can manage,” Anna protested, but this guy was apparently used to ignoring his patients’ arguments. He hoisted her to her feet easily.

  “Just take it easy the rest of the day. Maybe next time take one of those pills before you try getting on an airplane. Okay?”

  Anna nodded, but she doubted that would be necessary. From now on, both her feet were staying firmly on the ground.

  Her eyes strayed over to Jess. “Is she all right?”

  Hoyt turned to check on his trembling daughter and frowned. “Come here, baby.” He reclaimed Jess from Everett’s arms, and she burrowed her face against her father’s neck. “Miss Anna’s all right now, but we’re not going to get to go up in the airplane today. How about we go get some ice cream at Miss Bailey’s store instead?”

  No answer.

  “Maybe we’ll get some of that birthday cake ice cream you had last time. What would you think about that?” He paused, waiting.

  No answer.

  “You liked that kind, didn’t you?” Nothing. “Or would you rather have strawberry today?”

  Anna’s heart had started slowing down, but each time Jess didn’t answer, it sped back up a notch. She wasn’t the only one getting concerned. The color that had ebbed back into Hoyt’s cheeks vanished. The agonized expression on his face made her heart ache as the truth sank in.

  Jess had gone silent again.

  * * *

  Hoyt parked his truck in front of Pages and glanced in his rearview. Jess was slumped sideways, sound asleep in her booster seat. Hoyt turned his attention to the woman sitting beside him.

  Anna’s face had lost the gray tinge that had worried him back at the airport, but that was the only positive change he saw. She looked as worn out and defeated as he felt.

  The airplane idea was one of the dumbest things he’d ever come up with, that much was for sure. Jess hadn’t said one word since the ambulance had shown up, and Delaney might as well have taken the Closed sign out of the bookstore window and stuck it on her forehead. Just like Jess, Anna had shut herself away, and judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t coming out any time soon.

  Lord, please, help me fix this mess I’ve made. And if You don’t mind, could You spell out how for me? You know I can be pretty thickheaded, and I really can’t afford to waste any more time goofing up.

  He cleared his throat as she unfastened her seat belt. “I’m really sorry about all that, Anna.”

  “No.” Anna shook her head without any of her usual energy. Her crazy curls barely bounced at all. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Hoyt.” She glanced into the back seat, where Jess was frowning in her sleep. “Do you think...?” Anna couldn’t seem to finish her question.

  “I have no idea.”

  Anna flinched at his tone, and Hoyt sighed. He hadn’t meant for his answer to sound harsh. It was just tough to admit that he didn’t have a clue what the future held for Jess now. That was a pretty hard thing to face after all the bright hopes he’d clutched onto for the past few days.

  “I’ve ruined everything.” Anna seemed to be talking more to herself than to him, but he answered her anyway.

  “None of this is your fault. This is all on me.” That was true, but admitting it sure didn’t make him feel any better. “It was plain as day that you were terrified to get on that plane. You’d never have done it if you hadn’t been trying to help Jess. I shouldn’t have let you do it.”

  Some spunk sparkled back into Anna’s expression. “Last time I checked, I don’t take orders from you, Bradley. Anyway, I should’ve seen that panic attack coming a mile away. I’ve struggled with anxiety off and on ever since my mom died, but I haven’t had an attack in months, even with the stress I’ve been dealing with. I’d thought maybe I was past that. Obviously not.” She sent another worried glance into the back seat. “I’ll be praying for Jess. For both of you.”

  When Anna opened the truck door and stepped out, Hoyt suddenly came to. He couldn’t just dump this woman at the curb, not after everything he’d put her through this afternoon. “Wait a second. I’ll walk with you.” But when he opened his own door, she leaned back into the cab, shaking her head.

  “No, I can manage from here. But I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me know if Jess—” Anna stopped short and then tried again “—how Jess does. Okay?”

  “Sure.” He felt rude just sitting in the truck, but he’d probably pushed Anna Delaney far enough for one day. He watched her walk to the door of her bookstore, mo
ving as if she was bone weary.

  She probably was. Stress was a killer. Marylee’s illness had been the most exhausting time of his life, and weathering Jess’s silence hadn’t been any picnic, either. He’d been tired and worried for so long he’d forgotten what it felt like to live any other way.

  Until recently. These last few days had been different. Part of it was the relief of finally seeing some progress and having something he could actually do to help Jess move forward.

  But he’d also kind of liked trading barbs with Anna Delaney again, like they had back in high school. It had almost felt like he’d hit some cosmic reset button on his life and gone back to a time before everything went sideways on him.

  He’d felt really—awake, for the first time in a long, long time. But after the mess he’d made today, all that was over with, and he had nobody to blame for it but himself.

  He was pulling away from the curb when his mind replayed something Anna had said. Ever since my mom died.

  Whoa.

  Stunned, Hoyt jolted the truck back into Park so hard he double-checked to make sure he hadn’t woken Jess up. She was still sleeping, so he focused on the half-forgotten memory tickling around the edges of his mind.

  There’d been some story about Anna’s mother’s death, hadn’t there? Something...bad. What was it?

  Leaving the truck idling, he yanked his phone out of his shirt pocket and thumbed up a search engine. It took him a while, but he finally found it.

  And immediately wished he hadn’t. He read the headline with horror.

  Local Art Teacher Perishes in Plane Crash.

  Oh, wow.

  He sat there for a few seconds, kicking himself for being so stupid and—what was that other word Marylee had thrown around sometimes when he’d said or done some really boneheaded thing?

  Insensitive.

  That, he’d learned, was a female word for “lower than dirt.” During his short marriage, he must’ve discovered at least a hundred ways to get himself called insensitive. Fortunately, the remedy for it was always the same: a big apology, a double handful of the prettiest flowers he could find and a long kiss.