Vegas Sunrise

by Fern Michaels

  It was terrible to feel alone, to feel you had outlived your usefulness. Was that the way Sallie felt at the end? Sallie had given up everyone and everything. Ash hadn’t, though. Ash had savored every single minute of his life right to the end. If ever a person was meant to live forever, it was Ash Thornton.

  Ash always said, make everything in your life work to your advantage. The only problem was, he’d never told her how to do that. When she’d asked him, he’d stared at her, and said, “Fanny, there are some things in life you just have to figure out for yourself.” Then he said, “I’m not going to be here forever to keep my eye on you. When it comes down to the wire the only person you can depend on one hundred percent is yourself.” Why was she remembering all Ash’s little homilies tonight? Was something going to happen tonight? Was the full moon spooking her? She thought about Ruby and the strange conversation they’d had earlier. Nothing was going right. Why was that? Ash would say, open your mind, explore, demand explanations. Don’t settle for maybes, what ifs, and excuses. Get to the bottom of things. Don’t depend on anyone but yourself. “What I need to do,” Fanny muttered, “is to stop thinking about Ash like he’s still alive and in my life.” The clock in the kitchen chimed. Midnight. The witching hour.

  Fanny set her coffee cup on the ground. Snuggling beneath the daffodil afghan, she was asleep within seconds, the bright moon painting her sleeping form a sparkling, silver color. Almost immediately a barrage of sound heralded Ash Thornton’s arrival. She ran, the sound following her. “Leave me alone, Ash, I need to find my own way,” she shouted over her shoulder. The sound followed her as she ran among the cottonwoods to seek shelter from the blaring horn.

  “You made a mistake, Fanny, when you gave Jeff my wings. They weren’t yours to give. I wanted Jake to have them some day. I had a message inscribed on the back just for him. That was a shitful thing for you to do, Fanny.”

  “Then you should have told me to save them for him. I didn’t know anything about the message. How could I?”

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you something that’s so important. It’s common sense. Jeff Lassiter was the last person in the world you should have given my wings to. He made a goddamn key ring out of them. A fucking key ring, Fanny! Why didn’t you give him Simon’s wings? Get them back, Fanny, and attach the clasp for Jake.”

  “I’m not an Indian giver, Ash.”

  “Then steal them. They belong to Jake. Never Jeff. The minute I take my eyes off you, you screw up. I don’t tolerate screwups. Don’t cry. Crying won’t solve anything. You do what you have to do in this life because no one else is going to do it for you. I told you that a hundred times. Why don’t you listen?”

  “Because I’m sick and tired of listening to you. Sometimes you lie, Ash. It’s hard for me to know when you’re telling the truth. I’ll find a way to get them back so there is no need to talk this to death. Let’s face it. Your character wasn’t exactly sterling when you were on this earth.”

  “That was back then. I’m platinum now, baby.”

  “I want to know about Marcus. I don’t know what to do with my life. I’m marking time. I’m not doing anything constructive. I’m not contributing. Can’t you ask them to, you know, rescind the order or whatever it is you do up there to change things?”

  “I’m not one of the chosen few, Fanny. No one asks for my opinion. I can only tell you what I observe.”

  “I think you’re nuts, Ash Thornton. I’m nuts for listening to you. I know this is a dream. You know it’s a dream. You aren’t real. You’re dead. This is my subconscious working overtime because I’m on what you always called overload. You’re sneaky, Ash. I’m afraid to go to sleep because I know you’re going to stalk me. I’m so tired.”

  “Fanny, Fanny, Fanny. I have no control over things. Your subconscious wants me here. Even up here I have a hard time understanding that since you said you hate my guts.”

  “Sometimes I do. Not all the time. How did you know I gave Jeff your wings? I’ll find a way to get them back. I refuse to take all the blame for that. You should have told me, put it in writing, that you wanted them to go to Jake. Your will was not very explicit. Things like that should be put in a will, so everyone understands what they’re supposed to do.”

  “I relied on you.”

  “Get off it, Ash. Tell me this, why am I feeling so . . . antsy this evening? I don’t want to hear anything about the full moon either.”

  “You should have paid attention. You’re wallowing in your own self pity. That’s a dangerous thing to do because you miss what is going on right in front of your eyes. Your ears, too. You tell me what you suspect, and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

  “Ruby was upset because the chickens were restless. I sensed fear in her. It rubbed off on me. I was feeling something too, though. I just can’t pin it down.”

  “The chickens always get restless when there is a full moon. I think every weirdo in Vegas showed up at Babylon when the moon was full. It’s one of those either-or things. Translated that means either you pay attention or you don’t.”

  “That only leaves Marcus and the kids. Is it Marcus’s time? Is it the kids? I don’t even know what they’re doing these days. Ruby told me Birch and Libby took Sunny and Harry to Vermont skiing to that resort Simon used to take them to. I should have known that, Ash.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  “Are they in trouble, Ash?”

  “Yes.”

  “There is all kinds of trouble, Ash. Minor trouble, big trouble, and serious trouble. Which one is it? Answer me, Ash. You can’t lay something on me like this and then float . . . sail . . . fly away. They’re your kids, too! Come back here! I want an answer, Ash, and I want it right now!”

  Fanny woke with Ash’s name on her lips and sweat dripping down her face, the afghan wadded up under her chin. Disoriented, she staggered into the kitchen, where she refilled her coffee cup. She carried the heavy mug, the afghan dragging behind her, into the living room, where she switched on the television set, turning the volume low. She watched aerial maneuvers of an old war movie, realizing Ash used to do the same thing these pilots were doing. Her heart thudded in her chest. She reached for the remote, flipping through the channels. She whipped past the weather channel, then switched back when she heard the words “New England states.” She stared, mesmerized, at the swirling snow and the weatherman’s horrific words. A second later the portable phone was in her hand and she was punching out Ruby’s number at the ranch.

  “Edna, this is Fanny Reed. I’m sorry to wake you. Is Ruby there?”

  “No, Miss Fanny. She took the airplane on a trip. I packed her things myself. Your boy went with her. I think he’s flying the plane. Where did they go? Miss Ruby didn’t say. It must be somewhere that it’s cold with snow. I don’t think Miss Ruby will mind me telling you she wanted her long underwear, her boots, warm clothing, and lots of flashlights and those flares that were in the garage. She told me to pack plenty of brandy and cigarettes, too. I saw the truck leave about twenty minutes ago. When I asked her how long she’d be gone she said, ‘You’ll see me when you see me.’ You might be able to catch her at the airport.”

  Her insides shaking, Fanny called information for the airport number, her fingers drumming on the end table as she waited for the operator. She repeated the number twice before she dialed it. They transferred her five times before she reached the person who told her the plane had just taxied down the runway and was now, this second, airborne. “I’m not at liberty to tell you the pilot’s flight plan, ma’am.”

  Fanny slammed the portable phone on the coffee table. She picked it up again and dialed Sunrise. She wasn’t surprised when Iris picked it up on the first ring. What did surprise her was her daughter-in-law’s frosty tone of voice once she identified herself.

  “Where did they go, Iris? Why didn’t someone tell me? What’s going on?”

  “I probably know as much as you do, Fanny. Sage woke me up and said Birch was in tr
ouble and he was going to Vermont. Ruby called Metaxas Parish and he’s flying there too.”

  “Metaxas? Did Birch call? How . . . why?”

  “There’s a terrible storm at the lodge where they’re staying. Sage said Birch is in trouble. It’s Sage’s instinct. No, Birch didn’t call. Sage flew Ruby’s new plane. He is certified to fly that type of plane but he has never flown a plane like it on his own. Ruby went with him. She’s his copilot. She doesn’t have a license so what does that tell you? That’s all I know. Metaxas won’t let anything happen to them. We all know how much he loves Ruby. Maybe this . . . whatever this is, will bring them together.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Fanny, why haven’t you called us? The phones work two ways. I allowed for Marcus’s accident, but you can’t tell me you couldn’t find five seconds in your day to make one phone call. I haven’t heard from you since Celia got here. I also suspect Sage is having an affair with her. That’s just in case you’re interested. What do you think of that, Fanny?”

  “What I think is you’re out of your mind with worry about your husband and your pregnancy. Sage would never do what you just suggested. I know my son. I want you to know I resent what you just said. How could you even think such a thing about Sage? He and the others made it very clear they didn’t want to discuss anything with me. They let me know right up front. It was their way or no way. I had to accept that.”

  “That’s because you made a very stupid mistake, Fanny. Even I knew it was a mistake. Family comes first. You always preached that to Sage and the others, and Sage preached it to me. Then you up and do something stupid that negates those same preachings. You should have listened to your children, Fanny. Because you didn’t, Sage is off in a plane he’s not familiar with, trying to aid his brother because he thinks he’s in trouble. He could crash that plane and die. Your last memory of him will be that day in your kitchen when you turned on him in favor of Jeff Lassiter. How are you going to handle that, Fanny?”

  “Iris. . . . I never heard you talk like this. You’re making me sound like the enemy.”

  “Right now you are the enemy. I didn’t want Sage to go. He didn’t listen to me. He would have listened to you, though. He turned to Ruby. Ruby took over your job, Fanny. She’s been your stand-in for a long time now. I bet you didn’t even notice.”

  “Marcus . . .”

  “Before Marcus. The world doesn’t stand still because someone had an accident. I hope and I pray every night that Marcus will recover. There is nothing else I can do. Life has to go on whether we like it or not. There were a lot of things you could have done that you didn’t do. Your whole family is fucked up, Fanny. You don’t know the half of it. Excuse my language, but it’s how I feel right now. I don’t have anything else to say, so I’m going to hang up and watch the weather channel. Maybe you should do the same thing. Before I hang up, I’m going to give you something to think about. Ruby asked Celia to go with them and she said no. If I hear anything, I’ll call you.”

  A look of pure horror on her face, Fanny could only stare at the pinging phone in her hand as a headache banged away inside her head.

  Out of control.

  Helpless.

  Alone.

  Danger.

  She would not cry. She absolutely would not cry.

  “Pull up your socks, Fanny. You really didn’t have a clue, did you? This isn’t the end of the world, you know. It’s close, though. You can’t coast through life no matter how idyllic you think that life is. You can’t rest on your laurels either. Do you know why that is, Fanny? Resting on your laurels is just an expression. If you rest, somebody else gets the bead on you and you lose it. You can’t ever lose the edge that makes you who you are. You lost it once with Sunny because of Simon. I made sure you got it back. I’m not with you anymore, Fanny. You’re on your own now. Get that edge back before it’s too late. You’re the only one who can do it. If you don’t get on it, you’re lost.”

  Fanny whirled around. She wasn’t sleeping this time. She wasn’t dreaming either. “Ash?” she whispered. When there was no response, and she knew there wouldn’t be, Fanny beat her clenched fists on the arms of the chair. Ash was right, she’d lost the edge.

  You’re the only one who can do it.

  Fanny gritted her teeth. “I can do this. I will do this.”

  Where to start? Ash was right. She didn’t have a clue. Or, did she? Ash wanted his wings back. That was a place to start. Steal them, he’d said. “I can do that.” Iris had said Celia was having an affair with Sage. “I can take care of that, too.” She did have a place to start after all.

  “Thanks, Ash.”

  “Anytime.”

  Fanny jerked around. All she could hear was a low, throaty chuckle that at one time had heated her blood and made her pulses sing. She smiled as she ripped off a salute that would have pleased a five-star general.

  Back among the living.

  With a mission.

  The time was one o’clock in the morning.

  Five more hours till the world woke.

  Five hours to form a plan.

  Things were going to be all right. Ash would have told her if something was going to go awry. Still, Fanny kept her eyes on the television screen as a plan began to formulate in her mind.

  Thanks to Ash, her edge was almost within her grasp.

  The two wheelchairs rolled silently down the carpeted hallway to the main room of the lodge. The room was dark, the only illumination coming from the fireplace. Fed by propane gas and thick logs, the fire burned slowly. Very little warmth could be felt in the room. “It feels kind of like church, doesn’t it, Harry? It’s so quiet and still. I can even smell beeswax. They must use it on the furniture. It’s so white outside. Isn’t it amazing that rain and sleet make noise but snow doesn’t? It’s truly soundless. It’s supposed to be like this on Christmas Eve. It never is, though.”

  “Sunny, very rarely do I think about the past. No matter what, we can’t get it back. Just once, though, I’d like . . . I’d like to jump up and RUN. Before we go out those doors, I want us both to understand, and to agree, that something could happen to us. I’m willing to take the chance for myself. My motor skills are better than yours. I can’t make that decision for you, Sunny. You have to think about Jake and Polly.”

  “Nothing is going to happen, Harry. We’re going to stick together. We could talk ourselves out of this if we keep this up. Let’s do one last-minute check before we open those doors.”

  Harry rattled off the items from the list he withdrew from his pocket. Sunny ticked each one off. “Okay, Harry, let’s go.”

  Their wheelchairs side by side, they managed to get the door open without a problem. Harry wheeled his chair backward to hold the door open for Sunny. She scooted through as a gust of snow hit her head-on. She laughed as she steered her chair to the side to allow room for Harry. “Put your goggles on, Harry.”

  “I got them on, Sunny. They should make these things with wipers. It feels great. It’s really coming down. I bet there is twelve inches of snow out here. It’s drifting, too. Get behind me, Sunny, so your chair shoves mine. Even though they blew this path clear, it’s drifting. We need all the power we can get out of these chairs to get us to the barn. Are you okay? Do you love this?”

  “I love this, Harry. I really do. Keep going, don’t stop.” She was shouting, her voice carrying on the wind. She had no way of knowing if Harry heard her or not.

  In the lead, a violent gust of snow slammed against Harry, pushing his chair backward, Sunny’s chair sliding behind him. His chair tilted as he grappled with the padded armrests, trying to rock the chair toward the left to right it. Sunny swerved her chair, ramming it against his. She moved the control to reverse and then back to forward until Harry’s chair was moving forward. The wheelchair races they had at the center were proving to be invaluable now. The makeshift obstacle courses on the center grounds would help both of them if Harry didn’t forget all he’d l
earned. Harry waved his arm to indicate he was okay.

  Sunny snuggled deeper into her jacket, shrugging the muffler up to her nose and chin. She felt a moment of panic when she realized her chair was slowing down. They’d charged the batteries earlier, but the manufacturer probably hadn’t allowed for such a strenuous terrain. She made a mental note to write them a letter about the chair’s performance.

  Harry turned around. “I’m losing juice, how about you?”

  “I’m slowing down, too. Can you see the barn? It’s not that far from the lodge.”

  “I think I can see it. We still have some ground to cover, and the snow is getting deeper. My wheels are caking up with snow.”

  “So are mine. What should we do?”

  “Turn off the battery and propel it.”

  “I can’t turn the wheels, Harry. I’m stuck in the tire grooves you made. Can you move your chair?”

  “Some. We don’t want to use all our energy to slog a few inches. I think we’re a little more than halfway. We both have upper-body strength. If we slide out of the chairs and get on our knees, we can shove the chairs forward. I’ll wiggle behind you and push you since I have more strength. The chairs will take the brunt of the battering. Do you agree?”

  Sunny was already out of the chair crawling forward as Harry crawled backward.

  Exhilarated, Sunny shouted, “It’s working, and we’re making better time. I see the barn. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. Don’t talk. Just keep moving.”

  “The snow’s getting deeper, Harry. The drifts are up to my chest. The chair won’t go through. Stop. We need to think this out.” Sunny sat down in the snow. “We should leave the chairs and belly-whop the rest of the way. We can’t get hurt. The snow is soft. I’m game if you are. We’re about five hundred feet from the barn. Think of it in terms of swimming, Harry. We won’t have to exercise for a month. I’m a better swimmer, so I’ll go first.”