A week at her apartment had helped Dana regain her old strength and mental toughness, but the ocean had taken something from her. She couldn’t define it exactly, but she felt softer, more vulnerable after almost dying. Molly, despite her own problems with flight training, had mentioned the change in Dana a number of times, and Maggie had seconded it. Had it come from herself, or was it something Griff had given her? The new Griff, she corrected herself. Dana wiped her sweaty palms against the thighs of her flight suit. She wanted peace between them. For the past two weeks she’d wondered about the poem Griff wanted to share with her. Perhaps it would give her the insight into him she so desperately sought.
“Miss Coulter?”
Dana jerked her head up. Griff stood a few feet away. Dressed in his olive-green flight suit, he looked unbearably handsome. When his mobile mouth drew into a slight curve of welcome, heat swept up Dana’s throat and into her face. Unsure, she rose, forcing a smile in return.
“Hi.”
Griff wanted to reach out, touch her shoulder and tell her it was all right; but under the circumstances, that was impossible. The wariness in Dana’s eyes tore at him. “Hi, yourself. Are you ready to fly?”
Nodding jerkily, Dana gripped her flight log. “Yes, sir.” His eyes were a nonthreatening dove gray, and she managed a strained laugh. “Yes, I’m ready, Mr. Turcotte.”
As they walked out to the ramp where the trainers were parked, Griff shortened his stride for Dana’s sake. “You look healed and as good as new,” he told her. “How are you feeling?” He tried not to stare at her like a gawky teenage boy, but it had been a week since he’d seen her—an eon, to him.
“The truth?” Griff’s easy demeanor gave her the courage to respond.
“I never wanted anything but honesty between us.”
Dana wanted to believe him. Measuring her words carefully, she said, “I’m fine.”
“Any nightmares?”
“Yes.” His insight, when he chose to use it, never failed to amaze Dana.
“Common after a near brush with death.”
The morning was bathed in a peachy glow along the horizon. Unaccountably, Dana felt her hopes soar. “As a pilot, have you come close?”
Griff nodded. “I was one of the pilots who challenged those Libyan planes and shot one down a few years ago. Yeah, I had nightmares afterward.”
“Oh.”
Halting at the trainer, Griff motioned her toward it. “Go ahead with the walk-around.”
It was a dream, Dana thought. It had to be. Griff was acting like a normal human being with her. Was it all an elaborate trick to catch her off guard so he could give her a 1.9 after the flight? She also wondered if her airsickness would resurface. She would find out soon enough.
AVM Parker was there to welcome her back, handing her the discrepancy log to look over and sign. His smile was full, and she responded effortlessly to his welcome. The walk-around was completed, and she waited tensely for Griff to gig her on some small thing she’d overlooked. He remained silent, hands clasped in front of him, a neutral look on his face.
Climbing into the trainer, Parker helped Dana get the harness buckled. It was the first time the crew chief had done it, and she waited to hear Griff yell at him to get down and let her do it herself. The order never came. Parker gave her a smart salute and stepped down the ladder.
“Have a good flight, Ms. Coulter.”
She gave him a thumbs-up. “Thanks, Parker.” Her mind raced with the next thing she had to do. Her headphones were silent. Was Griff just waiting? Pushing the start button on the instrument panel, she heard the trainer’s engine cough, and the propeller started turning.
The morning air was choppy because at least twenty other planes were in the flight pattern. The trainer felt good in her hands, but Dana knew she was gripping the stick too hard. As if reading her mind, Griff said, “Two fingers on the stick.”
Dana obeyed, relieved not to hear the grate of anger that usually accompanied the order. Her stomach churned as they bumped along. Was he going to keep her in the flight pattern, making airsickness a more likely problem?
“Take us out over the gulf, Dana.”
Dana. Normally, it was Coulter—and even then, ground out like glass being smashed beneath the heel of his boot. He’d called her Dana, his voice civilized, unruffled—no sign of emotion in his tone. For the next two hours, he drilled her on basics, a ninety-degree turn, a one-eighty and three-sixty. She worked hard to keep her altitude even and the wings level. The temperature was climbing, and with it came more turbulence.
Toward the end of the two hours, Dana couldn’t hold her stomach down. Pressing the button on the stick that linked her to Griff, she croaked, “I’m going to be sick.”
“I’ve got the stick,” came his calm reply.
Humiliated, Dana could do nothing but let him fly until she stopped retching and had stowed the burp bag. Wrapping her hand around the stick, she said, “I’ve got the stick.”
“Roger.”
Dana waited for him to start haranguing her about being weak. Silence. She gulped a couple of times.
“Parker stowed some water on the starboard side down by your seat. Take a drink of it, Dana. I’ve got the stick.”
Stunned, Dana sat frozen for a moment, not believing her ears. Finally, she forced herself to move. Unsnapping her oxygen mask, she located the plastic bottle, drinking deeply from it, washing her mouth out in the process. Capping the bottle and stowing it, she took back the stick.
“Thanks, Mr. Turcotte.”
“You’re welcome. Okay, let’s head back. You’ve had enough for one day.”
Dana swung the trainer around, in shock. The difference in Griff was like night and day. Was this a ruse to gain her trust before going back to his old tactics, or was he really changing? Dana knew the grade he gave her would reflect a great deal of where Griff was really at.
***
“You’re giving me a 2.2?” Dana gasped.
Griff smiled as they stood next to the trainer after the flight. “You put in two tough hours, Miss Coulter. Your landings were above average for being rusty, and your ninety, one-eighties and three-sixties were excellent.” Griff balanced the board against his cast, and signed off his name. Dana’s eyes were huge and beautiful—and God, how he wanted to drown in them.
Stunned, Dana signed off the grade and turned to speak to Parker, who was already servicing the plane for Griff’s next flight. She excused herself and walked over to the AVM.
“I just wanted to thank you for putting that bottle of water in there for me, Parker.”
“Ma’am?”
“The water in case I had to use the burp bag.”
“Oh… the water.” Parker flashed her a big smile. “That was Mr. Turcotte’s idea, ma’am. I just played gofer and hunted it up for you. He’s the one you should thank.”
“I see…” Dana turned, nonplussed. She walked up to Griff, who was busy filling out the rest of the report for Ops. “Parker said it was your idea to put the water in there for me. Thank you.”
He glanced up. “You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get back to the ready room and discuss the particulars of your flight.”
Dana shook her head and said nothing. On the way, she glanced up at Griff, and noticed his walk seemed lighter. He almost seemed happy.
“Lieutenant?”
“Yes?”
“I keep thinking about you—I mean, us. This grade isn’t a joke, is it?”
Griff held Dana’s serious azure eyes. “You earned the grade.”
“You didn’t scream at me today in the cockpit.”
“No.” Griff slowed to a stop as Dana confronted him, frustration mirrored in her eyes. He longed to reach out, stroke her cheek and tell her how sorry he was for the way he’d behaved the past month.
“What’s going on, then?” Dana demanded tightly.
Griff looked around. The humid gulf breeze stirred, and several F-15 Eagle fighters flashed overhead, making
the air vibrate in their path. The breeze gently mussed Dana’s ebony hair. Griff sharply recalled how soft its strands were.
“I’m trying to make amends to you.”
“Amends? What’s changed?” she demanded hoarsely. “Ever since I got swept out on that riptide, you’ve been acting funny.”
Griff understood her reaction. If he told Dana the truth— that he liked her, wanted to know her on a personal and intimate level—she’d run from him. “Yes, that incident forced me to look at a lot of things,” he agreed.
“If you gave me that grade because you felt sorry for me, I won’t accept it!”
He held her mutinous gaze. “I feel anything but pity for you, Miss Coulter.”
Dana made a strangled sound and moved away from him. “This is crazy!”
“We’re starting over.”
Dana stepped into his path. “All right. What do you want from me?” she rattled.
Griff saw the shadow of fear in her eyes. “Nothing.”
“You want something, dammit! I can feel it.”
Her cry serrated his heart. Griff wasn’t in a position to pull her into his arms and calm her down. “What I want from you is a smile.”
“What?”
“I’ve never seen you really smile.”
Shaken, Dana looked up at Griff. “This whole situation isn’t making sense to me!”
Laughing, Griff said, “Maybe. Oh, there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“I want to hear the sound of your laughter. If it’s half as pretty as your mother’s, then I’ll be happy.” With that, Griff eased around Dana and left her standing on the tarmac to digest their conversation.
“Oh, Miss Coulter?” He saw Dana turn, her eyes narrowed with confusion. “Be at the ready room at 0700 tomorrow morning.”
***
Dana was afraid to look at Griff’s assessment of her flying skills as he handed the paper to her after the morning flight. Her suit was damp, and she’d sweated heavily, expecting him to catch her off guard and start screaming at her again. It hadn’t happened. In the cockpit he was all business, his voice low and, at times, even supportive. When she needed correction, he gave it to her. When she didn’t, silence reigned on the headset in her helmet.
“A 2.2? Another one?”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like it? If you’re going for anything but helo-pilot status, you have to strive to make 2.3s or 2.4s, Miss Coulter.”
Griff was deliberately teasing her, wanting to ease some of the tension he saw in every line of her body.
Dana glanced up from the board, catching the smile in his fathomless gray eyes. She had gotten airsick once on this flight, but it hadn’t affected her grade. And just as before, the water bottle had been stowed for her use.
“I had my heart set on fighters, Mr. Turcotte. How did you know that?”
“Griff,” he corrected, and looked around the mostly-deserted ramp. “When we’re alone, I want you to call me Griff. And as to you wanting jet status, I think you’ve got the ability to go for it.”
Wanting to believe that he wasn’t setting her up to Board her, Dana signed off the paper, frowning. He wanted to be on friendlier terms with her. Why? “And you’ll call me Dana?”
Griff didn’t miss the edge of sarcasm in her voice, the wariness. He remembered Ann’s words about Dana, how she’d been pursued and tricked by Lombard. “I’ll call you anything you want me to call you,” he answered softly.
Handing him the board with her grade on it, Dana turned away, confused. “Tigers don’t change their stripes, Mr. Turcotte. I’m not going to believe you’re changing yours.”
Time, Griff cautioned himself as Dana walked away from him. Give her plenty of rein and time. She’ll come around.
Dana suddenly halted, glancing at him across her shoulder. “When can we fly again?”
He grinned. “When do you want to?”
“Tomorrow?”
“How about tonight? Your first night flight?”
Dana frowned. “Is this some kind of trick?”
“Meet me at 2100 and find out.”
***
The ready room was quiet when Dana arrived at 2050. She had changed flight suits earlier after grabbing dinner at the apartment. At exactly 2100, Griff appeared at the door. Was it the thrill of making a possible breakthrough with Griff that made her heart pound so hard? Or the fact that he looked so stalwart in his flight suit?
“I see you’re a lady who likes to live dangerously. You decided to meet me and see if we’re taking a night flight.” As Griff approached, he saw less wariness in her eloquent eyes.
“I’ve lived dangerously all my life, Mr. Turcotte. Why should it change now?”
Griff nodded sagely. “No argument out of me. Let’s get out there and do it together, shall we?”
Excitement dissolved her distrust. Dana saw the challenge in Griff’s eyes and heard it in his voice. He was supporting her! “I’m ready,” she whispered with feeling.
The night flight was a completely different experience from day flying. Griff had her switch from visual observation outside the cockpit, to beginning to rely totally on the instruments. He showed her how the horizon gauge would move if they nosed up or down. For the next two hours she lived in the cocoon of the darkness, relying on waving arms, dials and the soft red light illuminating the cockpit so she could see them.
The flight lasted two hours. Dana couldn’t suppress her wonderment at the stars that sparkled outside the cockpit. And for once, she didn’t get airsick. She noticed, however, that her bottle of water was faithfully stowed in the starboard side next to the seat. Taxiing the trainer back to the ramp after the flight, she couldn’t suppress her joy.
“Griff, it was so lovely up there. I can see why you like night flying so much. Did you see the stars? They were so close I felt like I could reach out and pluck them right out of the sky.”
Unsnapping the oxygen mask so that it hung to one side of his helmet, Griff smiled at Dana’s spontaneous use of his first name. He’d made the flight a positive experience for her. His plan to get Dana’s trust was working. Gratitude that she still had the ability to trust any man at all made him feel humbled as never before. “Night flights are fun—except for refueling with a tanker at thirty thousand, or making a carrier landing.”
As Dana brought the trainer back to its parking slot, she hesitantly asked, “Griff, you never said how you broke your arm.”
“You never asked.”
“I want to know.”
“I’ll tell you on the ground. Let’s unstrap and get out of here.”
The field was darkened and quiet, except for lights around the control tower and the security gate. Dana felt so much heaviness lift from her shoulders as they slowly walked back to the ready room. She waited patiently for him to tell her about the cast. After they showed their badges to the guard, Griff said, “When I held the manual-release landing lever that day during the emergency landing order I gave you, and you hit it with your boot, it broke my finger.”
Dana gasped and halted. “Oh, no!”
Griff grinned and held up his cast. “I had it coming, Miss Coulter.”
Stunned, Dana said nothing else and followed him into the ready room. Under the fluorescent lights, Griff looked tired, strain evident around his eyes. She sat down opposite him at one of the many report tables to discuss the flight and wondered what kind of grade he’d give her.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Griff. I knew you were playing a rotten trick on me, and I got mad.”
With a laugh, Griff pushed the grade board in her direction. “Don’t worry about it. It taught me a lesson I’ll never forget.”
Dana’s gaze flew to the grading box: 2.1. Not bad for a first night flight! Not bad at all, in Dana’s opinion. Maggie had gotten a 2.0, and so had Molly. Her lips curved upward as she signed the board and handed it back to him.
“That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” Griff sighed and leaned
back in the chair.
Stymied, Dana asked, “What?”
“That beautiful smile of yours. What a gift.”
The tenor of his voice told her he was being honest. His returning smile was devastating. Suddenly, Dana felt more beautiful than she could ever recall. She avoided Griff’s brazen appraisal of her. “You just gave me the greatest gift I could ever have,” she whispered.
Relaxing, Griff simply enjoyed the time he was able to spend with Dana. “What’s that?”
“I know you’ve got a lot of pressure on you, Griff. Taking extra time to help me log the hours I need to catch up is something… well… special.” She held his dancing gray gaze. “The gift of treating me fairly after our rotten start over a month ago. I really believe that the new Griff is here to stay.”
“None of it was your fault,” he told her quietly. “I had too many problems I was refusing to deal with, Miss Coulter. I blamed you for them, and I shouldn’t have.”
“You can call me Dana…” And then she added shyly, “If you want to.”
Griff ached to reach across the table and kiss her. There was such vulnerability in Dana beneath the tough facade she wore to protect herself. With a careless grin, he said, “I’d like that.” The need to love her was excruciating. Right now, Dana was unsure of herself as a woman. Her lack of experience was touching.
“Does your arm hurt you very much?”
“No. My pride got hurt a hell of a lot worse than my finger.”
With a laugh, Dana stood. “That I can believe!”
Her breathy laughter sang through Griff, and he absorbed it like a starving man. It was late, and both of them had to be at the station early tomorrow.
“So, when’s our next flight?”
He liked the new easiness flowing between them. Some invisible hurdle had been spanned. “I’ve got a break at 1500 tomorrow. The air will be rough, but I think your stomach’s ready to handle it.”
Dana nodded, placing her garrison cap on her head. She picked up her helmet flight bag. “I’ll see you then. Good night, Griff. And thanks.”
No Quarter Given (SSE 667) Page 17
