by Becky Harmon
“Is that about your flight? Is something wrong,” Ruthie asked.
“Oh, no,” she answered, flipping through her mind for a convincing story as she pushed the note farther under the napkin on her tray table. “I asked the flight attendant about her shoes and she wrote down the website she had purchased them at. I thought they were so pretty.”
“I didn’t notice them,” Ruthie said as she leaned toward the aisle trying to see the flight attendant’s shoes. “I thought everything they wore was part of their uniform.”
Oops. She should have thought of that.
“That’s probably true. Maybe we shouldn’t mention it further so she doesn’t get in trouble.”
“Right. Good point.” Ruthie settled her hips back into the seat again and picked up her magazine.
Lucy returned to planning out her evening. She mentally added carrots to her grocery list in case the neighbor’s donkey decided to make another appearance while she was home. He had to travel through quite a bit of thick vegetation to get to the fence line that joined her property and deserved a reward when he succeeded. His rounded stubby nose and chunky body were extremely adorable and she couldn’t help but hope she would see him again.
This would be her first consecutive four days off in several months. Though considered by her co-workers to be a true workaholic, she was really looking forward to it. She shook her head. This desire for consecutive time off was the second “first” of the day for her. Normally, she didn’t even turn her head to glance at pilots. They held no appeal for her. She wouldn’t deny Dex had caught her interest, but the draw of her cabin in the woods was greater than the chance of sex. Yikes. Had she really just thought that? She was getting old, or maybe her mantra that pilots were off limits was starting to register. She would blame the lingering image of Dex on the way they had met and nothing more.
Pushing Dex from her mind again, she found solace in the memory of her new house. It had been barely three months since she had purchased the cabin on the outskirts of Madison. It was a perfect location, away from the noises of the city and only a short distance across the Florida line. An easy drive on the interstate and less than four hours from Atlanta, Madison had all the amenities of a high traffic town without the size.
She knew the moment she had seen the cabin that she would buy it. The thousand-square-foot house had a sturdy frame even if the interior had seen better days. It had allowed her remodeling imagination plenty of room to grow. She probably hadn’t spent more than two weeks there total, but she had started with the creature comforts. She spent the first days of construction remodeling the bathroom with the help of a local contractor. She would have liked to do everything herself, but she recognized her limits when it came to plumbing and electric. The three-bedroom cabin was now a one-bedroom with a large master bath and walk-in closet. Decorating wasn’t important; the bedroom contained only her bed and two nightstands.
She felt the plane touch down as she mused about the next steps in her renovation. When passengers began to disembark, she stood and grabbed her bag from the overhead compartment. Sliding into an empty row in first class, she pretended to search her bag while she waited for Mason.
“Enjoy your visit with your family,” Ruthie called as she passed.
“You take care too,” Lucy said lamely, realizing she couldn’t remember where Ruthie was headed. It was a bit disconcerting to her because her job was to pay attention. Too bad she couldn’t have told Ruthie that she had been distracted by the pilot. She smiled. That might have shut Ruthie up for the entire flight. She made a point, though, to never tell a fellow passenger anything with any truth behind it. She was a career actress in so many ways.
The flight had been quick and quiet, as the majority of flights were, and she was eager to be back behind the wheel of her truck. Mason finally reached her, giving the all clear that the rear of the plane was empty and she followed him down the aisle. At the door of the plane, Dex stood greeting the passengers as they departed. Lucy couldn’t help but smile at her friendly face, but she didn’t linger. As she passed, she read the name on Dex’s chest tag, Alexander. Dex Alexander.
She pushed aside the possibilities of a night of great sex and moved with the flow of passengers headed to baggage claim and the exits. She took the bus to the B long-term parking lot and easily found her blue Toyota Tacoma. Back in the driver’s seat with control of the wheel, she wasted no time getting away from the airport. She left the rush hour traffic on Interstate 75 and took back roads away from Atlanta. The stop-and-go traffic off the interstate might be slower, but she didn’t care. At least she was looking at more than the car in front of her.
* * *
Dex followed the server to a corner table where she could watch the travelers pass by. It was almost a quarter after eight and she was sure the woman wasn’t coming, but she decided to get something to eat and wait a little longer. She stretched her legs under the table and played with the menu. This restaurant advertised Southern cooking and that’s what she needed today, a little comfort food.
After weeks of ground training to learn the ins and outs of Eastern Airlines, she’d finally gotten the chance to get in the air. She’d made it through her first day as a civilian pilot, and tonight she would sleep in a hotel bed, the first of many. Tomorrow she would fly to New York and then to Los Angeles. By Saturday, she would be back in Toronto to sleep in her own bed. At least for a night or two. She wouldn’t know her schedule for the following week until she returned from this rotation.
She knew it would take a while to get used to this line of work, but she knew when she left the service that this would be the best alternative. She could have stayed in and tried to get her twenty years, but she wasn’t going to second-guess her decision now. Her army assignment had taken a toll on her even though she had never been on the front lines. She couldn’t even imagine what the men and women in direct combat went through.
In the beginning, she had liked the excitement and adrenaline of flying troops all over the world, but the thrill had quickly worn off. Watching young men and women go into battles they weren’t prepared to fight gave her a sick feeling. The memory of the young, eager faces on those she dropped off and the shadowed eyes she saw on those she picked up would haunt her forever.
She couldn’t help feeling responsible for the ones she dropped in remote locations. The ones she deposited were hardly ever the ones she picked up, so there was rarely any closure. She knew the troops each had a mission to conduct and she tried to convince herself she wasn’t leaving them behind, but sometimes that was what it felt like. The majority of her flights were without a lot of risk, but her nerves were still frayed and she needed a life away from the smell of fear and death. Her last flight back to the US she had transported eight bodies and it made her stomach churn thinking about it. The young men and women who gave their lives were only a quick announcement on the local news, but their families felt the loss forever.
She had spent countless hours hashing and rehashing her most harrowing missions. Everyone said time was the only healer. She knew what they really meant was time away from it all. It had taken signing separation paperwork and moving into her apartment in Toronto for her to even come close to a good night’s sleep. She knew there were soldiers who had the ability to push past their own emotions and do what needed to be done and she was thankful for them. She, on the other hand, had survived by building a wall around herself. Allowing herself to do anything more than mourn the loss of a fellow soldier would have opened up the floodgates to a potential emotional breakdown. And now she was thankful she had recognized her own limits and left the army behind. She was confident she could separate whatever baggage she had returned with from her current profession. Now that she wasn’t facing it day after day, she felt like she had a handle on controlling the emotional trauma she previously had repressed. That she would be able to move past all of it.
She pushed aside all thoughts of the military and allowed more pleasant
images to take over. Images of one Lucy Donovan. After everyone had left the plane, she had asked the flight attendant to see the passenger manifest and looked up her name, discovering, to her surprise, in the process that the occupant of 12D was identified as an air marshal. The flirtatious woman had already gained Dex’s attention, but now she had her interest too. Maybe it was Lucy’s attractiveness. Or maybe it was the idea of ships passing in the night. That made sense. She wouldn’t have to think about interacting with Lucy in her daily life. She wouldn’t have to share emotions or get to know this woman. She could appreciate her in the moment and then move on. And that—that was an attractive thought.
She had to admit, though, that she was disappointed Lucy had not chosen to accept her invitation. She knew realistically that Lucy may have been booked on another flight. It was hard to miss the fact, however, that she could have easily given Dex that information when they had passed after the flight, but she had chosen not to. Oh well, Lucy certainly wasn’t the only fish in the sea, even if she was the first one who had caught her eye in a long time. Besides, she was still getting her feet on civilian ground again. She didn’t need a distraction. The server brought her Salisbury steak and macaroni and cheese with the token vegetable she wouldn’t indulge in, and she dove in with gusto. She would make time for the gym tomorrow. Tonight she was splurging and it felt good.
* * *
Lucy slowly maneuvered her truck down the sandy road toward her cabin. It was later in the evening than she had hoped to arrive. The last rays of sun were starting to fade. Acres of green pasture on each side of her merged into a heavily wooded area. Big, tall pines and old oak trees lined the sides of the road. A tunnel of limbs covered in Spanish moss hung low, blocking out the bit of light left in the sky. Then all the vegetation parted and opened up into the little nook where her cabin sat. The road ended at her house, which was bordered by pastures on two sides and thick vegetation on the other.
Using her phone to turn off the house security alarm, she carried the heaviest of her bags onto the porch and unlocked the door. The room was a comfortable seventy-four degrees, exactly what she had requested when she dialed in and set the digital panel earlier. She loved being able to check on her house while she was away. She knew it was stupid, but it almost felt like communicating with someone waiting at home for her. She hadn’t installed any cameras yet, but she was thinking about it.
She dropped her bag and stepped back outside. Standing on her porch, she looked around at the small yard and then up at the night sky. Soon it would be covered with bright stars, which looked so much brighter here without all the city lights. She quickly retrieved her duffel bag and the last couple of bags of groceries from her truck before heading back inside. She put all the perishables in the refrigerator but left the canned food on the counter. The small kitchen didn’t have a lot of cabinet space and the majority of it was filled with dishes and other items she would never use.
She dumped beef stew from a can into a pot on the stove and then unpacked her duffel bag, throwing her dirty clothes into the hamper. She did a quick walk-through of the house, settling in and feeling the comfort of being home. She didn’t have any buyer’s remorse, but she had been afraid she would. She had moved so many times in the last ten years that she wasn’t sure she would ever feel comfortable anywhere. She wasn’t sure if it was the house or the location that spoke the most to her, but something certainly did.
She turned the stove off and dished a bowl of stew, taking it out on the porch. She didn’t have a swing or any chairs yet, so she sat on the steps, reminding herself of the to-do list she had for tomorrow. The new boards on the steps and porch needed to be weatherproofed, but she should probably build the hand railings first. The porch stretched the length of the house so it would take her most of tomorrow to build them. Then she could paint them on Friday.
The contractor would be working on the laundry room Friday, which meant she would need something to work on outside the house anyway. He didn’t like people hanging over his shoulder while he worked. The final interior repair would be the kitchen. She had a design she wanted to use, but she needed more than four days to pull it off. She didn’t like to do a partial job, leave, and then come home to a mess. It would require taking a week off from work, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. Maybe after the upcoming holidays she would take some vacation leave.
The sound of running hooves and then crashing of nearby bushes drew her attention to the tree line beside her house. She ran into the house and grabbed a carrot from the fridge. Given the amount of noise being made, it sounded like a herd of elephants coming to visit, but she knew it was only one black donkey. He gave a couple of snorts to let her know he was there and she laughed.
“I hear you, boy,” she said as she walked across her yard.
The full moon provided enough light for her to cross to the fence. She couldn’t see the donkey’s black face, but the white tip of his nose seemed suspended in midair as he waved his head around impatiently. She put her legs through the wooden split rail fence, sitting on the middle board. His round nose began to push at her immediately as he searched for the treat.
She held the carrot out to him and he bit off a chunk. Munching happily, he leaned his shoulder into her legs and she petted his neck, talking softly to him.
“Did you miss me, boy? I missed you.”
He swung his head around and nuzzled her arm before biting off another chunk of carrot.
“It’s nice to have you here to welcome me home.”
She heard the roar of a four-wheeler and saw headlights coming down the road. She stood and gave the donkey a pat before returning to her porch. She hadn’t changed clothes yet and was glad her pistol was still in the small of her back.
The covered UTV, a modified golf cart, squealed to a stop beside her truck. She watched as a shadowy figure climbed out and slowly approached, talking quickly.
“I hope I didn’t scare you. I heard Bogarts take off like a bat out of hell, and I was afraid he was spooked. Have you seen him?”
Relieved to hear a woman’s voice, Lucy stepped into the yard to meet her.
“Is he furry with a black face and white nose?”
“He is.”
Lucy thought she could hear the woman smile. “He’s over at the fence. I gave him a carrot. I hope that’s okay.”
“Oh yeah. That’s fine. I’m Karen, by the way. Sorry I flew in here like that. I didn’t expect to see your vehicle. Or you for that matter.”
Lucy took a step closer and shook Karen’s hand. “It’s okay. I just got here. So, his name is Bogart? I like it.”
“Bogart. Bogarts. Hard head.” Karen waved her hand in the air. “He’ll answer to pretty much anything, especially for a carrot. That’s his favorite.”
“I did give him one last week, so I guess I’ve created a monster.”
As if on cue, Bogarts brayed.
“He probably shouldn’t have more than one or two a day, but we don’t give him any on a regular basis so you’re free to spoil him when you’re here. If you want,” Karen offered.
“Thanks. It was nice to be greeted when I got in tonight.”
“He must’ve heard or seen your truck and that’s why he came running. I’m surprised he stopped at the fence.” She laughed. “I guess I should head back home. If he becomes a burden let me know. Do you have something to write on? I’ll give you my number. I’m sure you figured it out, but I live in the white house you pass on the way in. My wife works from home, so she’s around during the day if you need anything.”
Lucy stepped into the house and grabbed a pen and notepad from the counter. She met Karen at the door, curiosity covering her face as she quickly looked around the combined kitchen and living room. Lucy hesitated for a second before jotting down her own number and then handing the pad to Karen. She didn’t know this woman and she hated giving out her number, but having a local contact was a plus if something went wrong at the house wh
ile she was away.
“Sheila, that’s my wife, will be sorry she missed meeting you. You should expect a dinner invitation. Will you be here long?”
“Until Sunday.”
“Great. I’ll let Sheila know.”
As the UTV roared away, Lucy felt the quiet return like a heavy, old-fashioned quilt covering her body. Rustling in the trees at the fence told her that Bogarts was following Karen back to the house. She sat down on the porch and looked up at the sky filled with stars. For a moment the silence felt empty, and then she reminded herself how much she liked being alone. Sharing a space with someone else felt confining, especially when the space belonged to her. This was her house and she had no intentions of ever inviting anyone to visit. Well, Karen and Sheila might be an exception, even though friends were a luxury she had never indulged in. She liked Karen’s curiosity.
Chapter Four
Dex groaned as she rolled over to silence the alarm at six the next morning. She wasn’t really a morning person, but this was her penance for the meal she had eaten the night before. She dressed in the dark and headed for the gym. The light in the hallway was blinding and she squinted her eyes. She sincerely hoped she didn’t meet anyone she knew because she looked a mess. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but she could already feel wispy strands escaping confinement.
The gym was empty, she was glad to see. She chose the treadmill farthest from the door, inserted her earbuds, and began a slow walk, trying to convince her body to wake up. After ten minutes, she increased to a jog and slowly increased her speed every few minutes. Thirty minutes later she began her cooldown and then returned to a walk. There was no denying she felt better for having forced herself to endure this torture. She grabbed a banana and a yogurt from the continental breakfast and returned to her room to shower.
