Lightning Lingers

by Barbara Freethy

  Too bad she hadn't wanted him the way he'd wanted her, because she'd definitely quit him.

  Frowning, he thought about their recent conversation. While there hadn't been a lot of new information exchanged, today was the first time he'd realized how scared she'd been during their last few months together. He'd known she was annoyed with him for partying too much and keeping her out late, but he'd thought she was just being uptight, because she was always a little uptight. He was used to dragging her out of her shell and showing her a good time. He didn't know why she'd been resisting him so hard.

  But maybe he'd been more intense than he'd thought. Had he really been that crazy, that out of control after his dad died? Had her worries been justified?

  Or had she been floundering in school and turning her fear of failing her pre-med classes into fear about their relationship? Had she created a scenario where she could live with saving herself and leaving him in the dust?

  He let out a sigh. Did it really matter?

  As much as he didn't like the way she'd broken up with him, he couldn't deny that he hadn't been the best version of himself the year after his dad died. While it had felt good to blame her for everything, he had a lot to account for himself.

  He'd definitely grown up in the past ten years. He wasn't that drowning, angry guy anymore, and he certainly wasn't looking for her to rescue him. He could take care of himself and he could take care of her, too. While he'd been reluctant to take her into Mexico, now he had no choice. Until he could get her to a safe place, they were going to stick together. He would never abandon her, no matter how much pain she'd caused him in the past.

  Which made him a much better person than her.

  He smiled to himself. He could spin things as well as she could.

  The truth was they'd both made mistakes, but they'd also both grown up. The focus from here on out was to get to safety first and then on to Nic Té Há to rescue TJ.

  It felt good to have a plan, like he was in control. It was a tenuous thread of hope, but he was going to cling to it as long as he could. But as he looked around the cockpit, he couldn't help thinking about what was going on back home.

  Had Rusty gotten the news already? Radar would have shown their plane going off course, but those last few minutes he'd been unable to communicate. Anyone searching for them would have a wide area to cover.

  It was just like his dad's disappearance.

  His stomach twisted painfully. He could imagine the pain and horror his mother and sisters would go through when they heard his plane had gone missing.

  Dani was going to DC tonight; she might already be on her way. Alicia was returning to Florida tomorrow, which meant she'd probably be with their mom when the news came in.

  Just like his dad's disappearance.

  Alicia had been the only one in the house with their mother that night, too.

  One of his mom's friends had called him at school to tell him to come home. He vividly remembered driving through the dark night to get to the brightly lit house, which had filled with family and friends since the first terrible call.

  The hours that followed had been horribly tense, emotions soaring high with tiny seeds of hope, only to be crushed by disappointment and despair. The days had turned into weeks. The house had emptied out, leaving only a few to carry on the vigil. And then the search had ended.

  He felt sick at the memories. He didn't want his mother and sisters to go through all that again. He had to find a way to get to a phone and let them know he was all right. He wanted to go right this second, but night was falling fast, and it would be stupid to leave the only shelter they had until morning. Hopefully, it wouldn't take more than a few hours to get to help tomorrow.

  And maybe Rusty wouldn't rush over to his mom's house until the morning. Rusty had also gone through the search for Jake's father. He'd remember how hard it was to tell the family. Perhaps he'd wait until he had more definitive news.

  It was a slim hope, but he hung on to it.

  He got up and went back into the cabin.

  Katherine gave him a wary look, as if unsure of his mood. He didn't blame her. He wasn't any more comfortable with her despite their recent clearing of the air. There was still an emotional and physical tension between them—anger and hurt but also attraction and desire.

  He didn't know how he could want a woman who'd hurt him so badly and who hated his guts, but somehow he did.

  He was lucky that she didn't want him…or did she?

  Was that why her gaze was filled with so much confusion? Was she, too, feeling the conflicting emotions?

  It wouldn't be surprising. There had always been a push-pull between them. Katherine had fought hard against her reckless desire for him. When they were seventeen, it had been easy to push past her barriers, but he had a feeling the past ten years had reinforced her barriers with steel.

  Which was a good thing, he told himself. He didn't need to make this situation even more difficult or complicated.

  He sat down in the seat across from her and tipped his head toward her guidebook. "So, what did you learn about Mexico?"

  "It's a big country. Most of the larger cities are on the coast. The interior is vast and rugged, and I have a feeling that's exactly where we've landed."

  "I would agree. But I think if we head south, we should run into a town about eight miles from here."

  "Eight miles doesn't sound that bad. We can make that."

  "I'm sure we can." He paused. "In the meantime, I have an idea on how we can pass the time until morning…"

  The wary look returned to her eyes. "You usually have really bad ideas."

  "Not this time." He smiled, then reached into a side panel and pulled out a deck of cards. "Gin rummy or crazy eights? I believe I still hold the title of champion in both games."

  Her lips curved somewhat reluctantly at his boastful words. "I'm pretty sure I beat you at rummy the last time we played."

  "Hmm, as I recall, the last time we played, you distracted me by unbuttoning your shirt and then making out with me." Heat coursed through him as that memory ran through his head. He could still see her beautiful breasts spilling out of her lacy bra under her buttoned-down blouse. He hadn't been able to think about the cards in his hands, only about how quickly he could get his hands on her breasts.

  She must have read his mind, because she pulled the edges of her jacket more closely together. "That won't happen tonight," she said pointedly. "I'm only playing cards, nothing else."

  "Too bad. We could have made this a lot more interesting."

  "You and I don't need to get any more interesting," she said.

  "Fine, cards only. What does the winner get?"

  "I don't know…satisfaction at winning?"

  He shook his head. "That's not enough of a prize."

  "You're so competitive, Jake. Why does there always have to be a trophy?"

  "Because it's more fun if there's something at stake. But you know that, because you are even more competitive than I am. I bet you were top of your class in medical school, weren't you?"

  "I might have been," she said.

  "Number one or top five?"

  "The only position that counts is the first one," she retorted.

  He laughed. "I knew it."

  "Fine. What do you want if you win this game?" She immediately held up her hand. "And whatever you want cannot involve me getting naked."

  "Really? That was always a good prize before. And I seem to recall that I got naked as much as you did."

  "So now you're remembering that I did beat you quite often," she said.

  He tipped his head in concession. "Fair point. What do you want?"

  "If I win, I get the chocolate bar."

  "You and chocolate—your greatest love affair outside of medicine," he said dryly.

  "Your turn. What do you want?"

  He thought for a moment. "If I win, you let me decide which way to go tomorrow. You have faith in me to lead us in the right dire
ction. You give me the power to choose our path."

  Her lips tightened. "Don't you think we should work together?"

  "We should work together, but that will go better if you agree to let me lead. Otherwise, we'll spend half the morning arguing and debating the merits of each possible path."

  "It's important to consider ahead of time what you're getting into."

  "I promise to consider it."

  "You could let me lead, and then we wouldn't have any problems."

  "Too late. You already asked for chocolate as your prize."

  She let out a sigh. "Fine. You're not going to win anyway, so I won't worry about it."

  "That would be a first."

  She made a face at him. "We're not just playing one game. It's five out of seven. That will prove the true winner."

  He was fine with that. They had a lot of time to kill. "All right."

  "Deal the cards," she said, a fighting light in her eyes. "And prepare to lose. Wait a second—never mind that, you don't prepare for anything. What was I thinking?"

  "Insults are not going to distract me, but nice try, babe."

  "And calling me your babe isn't going to annoy me enough not to concentrate," she returned as he dealt the cards.

  "Calling you babe is a sign of affection."

  "You don't have affection for me, Jake. I think we've clearly established that."

  He shrugged, thinking that he wished they'd clearly established that fact, but for some reason he liked her better now than he had in a very long time.

  As his mind went down that road, he lost his focus, and the first game was hers.

  After that, it was all about the cards.

  For the next three and a half hours, they jockeyed back and forth between winning games until they were tied at three-three. The dim light in the cabin had turned to black, and they finished their next two games by the light of the emergency lantern.

  Tied again at four-four, they had one more game to go for the prize.

  As Jake watched Katherine focus on her cards with absolute and complete focus, he felt both admiration and annoyance. He didn't like to lose and Katherine was good at cards. She wasn't just good; she also seemed to be lucky, getting the cards she needed at exactly the right time.

  She smiled as she looked up from her hand. "You're going down, Jake."

  "Second time today," he said dryly. "I used up my good luck when I was able to land without killing us."

  "So that was luck and not skill?" she challenged, a teasing light in her eyes.

  He laughed. "You got me there. So what's your play?"

  She spread her cards face up on the table. "Gin."

  "Damn."

  "I win, Jake. That's five."

  "Maybe we should go eight out of ten."

  "Can't change the rules now."

  "Then it looks like you get the chocolate bar."

  "I'll save it for the morning," she said, settling back in her seat. "It will give me a good start to the day."

  "Want to finish off the wine?" He lifted up the bottle. "There's at least one glass left."

  "Let's split it," she said.

  "Very generous of you."

  "I've always been a good winner."

  He smiled as he poured her wine. "Maybe in your head."

  "How can you say that?"

  "Because I've been on the losing side of your wins a few times. Your ego gets a little big."

  "Not true. And if I'm a bad winner, then you're worse."

  "Let's agree we both don't like to lose." He filled both of their glasses about half-full.

  "I can drink to that," she said, picking up her glass. "That was fun. I got to forget for a while where we are and what's looming outside this plane."

  "I'm glad."

  Katherine glanced at her watch. "It's only ten. We still have a lot of hours to go until morning."

  "Time will pass; it always does."

  "That's true." She absentmindedly played with the necklace around her neck. He was surprised to see it was her locket from a very long time ago.

  "You still wear that," he murmured.

  Her hand abruptly fell to her lap, and she looked uncomfortable with his observation. "Not usually, but I put it on yesterday. It was my last shift, and I thought Hailey should be there with me. She was the one who inspired me to be a doctor."

  "Can I see it?"

  "You've already seen it."

  "A long time ago. Come on, show me."

  She hesitated, then unclasped the necklace and handed it to him. He opened the locket and saw Hailey's cute freckled face and toothy smile. "Cute girl." He looked back at Katherine. "Tell me about her again."

  "Why?"

  "Because it's only ten o'clock, and we have hours to go until morning," he reminded her.

  "All right. We were best friends from the first day of kindergarten. Hailey came up to me at recess and put her hand in mine and said we're best friends now. That was it. We were inseparable. She was an only child, and I didn't have a sister, so we decided we'd be sisters. We did everything together: played soccer; sold Girl Scout cookies; took Irish dancing lessons—which I was not very good at; gymnastics—which I was better at; and we would make up imaginary games to play after school and on the weekends. She had an amazing imagination. I never knew what she was going to come up with."

  He liked the way Katherine's voice and eyes softened when she spoke about Hailey. He'd heard about her childhood friend before, but back then there had been more pain in her voice as she'd been closer to the loss.

  "Hailey was good for me, probably better than I was for her."

  "I doubt she saw it that way."

  "She shouldn't have died so young. It was so wrong."

  Now the pain came back into her voice, and he frowned. "You weren't to blame, Katherine."

  "It was my fault she got hit. I tripped on my costume. She had already crossed the street, but she came back toward me—to help me. That's the reason she was in the street when the car flew around the corner."

  "It was a drunk teenager, wasn't it?"

  She nodded. "He was seventeen years old. He didn't even stop. I ran to Hailey, and I screamed for help, but no one was around. It was five minutes before another car came down that road. Hailey was awake the whole time. She was so scared. I held her hand, and I told her it would be all right. I promised her that we'd be eating our candy in a few hours."

  "That's good. You made her feel better."

  "I lied to her. I think I knew it even as I said it. There was so much blood around her and the nearest hospital was thirty minutes away. She died ten minutes after we got there. They were still looking for a doctor to treat her when her heart stopped. It was a rural medical center and the only physician on duty had no experience with pediatric trauma. They had to call someone to come in. I remember the nurses running around trying to get someone on the phone." She paused. "By that time, I was in the waiting room all by myself. The police had called my parents, but they were at a Halloween party, and they hadn't answered the call. By the time they got there, Hailey was dead."

  "I'm sorry. That must have been rough."

  "It felt surreal at the time, and to be honest, it still does."

  Katherine held out her hand, and he gave her back the locket.

  She put it around her neck and added, "I hated how helpless I felt that night. I thought if I'd known what to do, maybe I could have saved her."

  "I know you've always felt that way, but now that you're a doctor, do you still believe that?"

  "No," she admitted. "I don't believe that I, as a twelve-year-old girl, could have saved Hailey's life, but if there had been a doctor closer, if we'd gotten to the hospital faster, if there had been a pediatric ER physician, maybe she would have made it. I don't know for sure. Her injuries might have been too severe." She sighed and then took another sip of wine.

  "You have to find a way to forgive yourself, Katherine."

  She stared back at him with pain in h
er eyes. "You told me that before."

  "More than once," he agreed. "But you still hold yourself responsible."

  "It was my fault."

  "It was an accident."

  "Intellectually, I know that. And since I've become a doctor, I know it even more. Life can change in a second. I've seen a lot of accident victims. I've seen a lot of broken-hearted families. But when it's your own personal history, it's different."

  "Does knowing that you're helping other families avoid the same tragedy help you?"

  "Yes, a little," she admitted. "I always wanted to be a doctor, even before that night, but after that, I knew that was my destiny. I just didn't know how difficult it would be, but Hailey's memory got me through."

  "Do you still hate Halloween?"

  She nodded. "With a passion."

  "I remember when you used to hide in the library on Halloween."

  "I couldn't stand to see all those kids in costumes. It was just too hard. Even though we moved away from the town where Hailey died, the Halloween memories followed me."

  "Do you think Hailey would be proud of you now?"

  "Yes," she said with a smile. "When we were little, we used to talk about what we wanted to be when we grew up. She wanted to be a dancer; I wanted to be a scientist."

  "You two obviously had different personalities."

  "Very different. She was so outgoing and friendly, and she embraced life. She was fearless. In some ways, you reminded me of her."

  "Wait, did you just compliment me?" he asked abruptly.

  "I told you that before. Both you and Hailey brought me out of my shell."

  "What about now? Are you out of the shell, or did you tuck yourself back in after we split up?"

  "I don't know. I haven't had time to analyze myself."

  As she finished speaking, she yawned, and even in the shadowy light he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She'd only caught a short nap in the plane before the lightning storm had struck, and apparently she hadn't slept at all the night before.

  "You should close your eyes," he said.

  "It's way too early," she mumbled, another yawn following her words. "Let's keep talking—but not about me or our past."

  "What does that leave us?"

  "A lot. What do you do for fun these days?"