McIntire nodded sadly. “Ty can attest to that from personal experience,” he said softly.
Ty said nothing, but Erin saw a momentary flash of pain in his eyes. She’d occasionally wondered about his marital status and hadn’t noticed a wedding ring, which had surprised her. He seemed far too handsome and intelligent not to be married. But why did she suddenly feel glad that he was single? Stop it, she chided herself. It doesn’t mean a thing.
“You find out in a real hurry just what your marriage is made of if you marry an SAC pilot,” McIntire told her in a confidential tone. “A lot of women can’t adjust to the demands that SAC puts on their men. Belonging to the military means making constant compromises in your personal life.”
She shook her head. “You make it sound as if the divorce rate is higher than the national average.”
“It is. Especially at Northern Tier bases, where there isn’t much to keep you busy or active outside the home. Most of the wives raise children and develop tightly knit support groups.”
“And if you’re a career woman?” Erin asked.
“Career wives have an even tougher time,” Ty told her. “They usually don’t have children, so they don’t identify with the interests of the majority. Some housewives become jealous because the career wife may have more freedom of self-expression. The situation can lead to a certain amount of jealousy and uneasiness.” A wicked glint danced in his blue eyes. “You’d make a good military wife.”
Erin laughed. “Me? Come on!”
“The marriages that survive do so partly because the women are strong and self-reliant. You’ve got those qualities. Plus you’ve got your own career, which I think helps a lot in the long run.”
John rose, slapping Ty on the back. “I think this young man just proposed to you, Erin. But if I was in his shoes, I would, too! Come on. Let’s get back to class.”
Erin was acutely conscious of heat stealing into her face as Ty pulled out her chair for her to rise. An odd smile quirked one corner of his mouth. The fact that he said nothing to refute John’s ridiculous statement made her pulse pound even harder. She rode in uncomfortable silence with both officers back to the Physiology Center.
3
Erin spent another hour and a half in the class that afternoon. She was glad when they took a break and Ty wandered back in, handing her a cup of coffee. He perched himself on a chair across from where she was sitting. “Well, did you pay more attention this time?” he inquired.
She produced her notes for his inspection. “I’ve been very good,” she said.
He smiled lazily. “You’re like any other Irishwoman,” he murmured. “All you need is a guiding hand and you swing right back into line.”
“I don’t know about that. I take orders from very few people,” she disagreed, meeting his challenging gaze. “But after your story on that crewman nearly dying, I was convinced.”
“You’re intelligent enough to know that,” he countered, taking a sip of his own steaming coffee.
“And is that good in your eyes?” she questioned.
“Do you want it to be?”
She colored fiercely. “Why do you have to put everything into personal terms?” she demanded, irritated. Her pulse pounded as a sudden sense of his nearness swept over her.
Ty grinned, enjoying her reaction. “Listen, gal, if we had met under other circumstances, things would be different,” he promised huskily.
His words, and the low timbre of his voice, made her feel giddy, and she quickly suppressed the sensation. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect the air force sent you as a decoy to trick me into writing favorably about them,” she retorted.
His expression hardened. “Erin, why do you think the air force is so devious?” Abruptly, he rose, walking over to the wastebasket and throwing away his empty cup. He turned, his eyes narrowed. “For a writer of nonfiction, you certainly have a creative imagination.”
All the hurt and anger that remained in her from Steve’s death long ago boiled to the surface in a scalding wave. She rose, her shoulders thrown back, her body rigid. “I wouldn’t put anything past the air force, Captain. Nothing, do you hear me?” Her trembling voice echoed oddly within the classroom as she faced him. “I keep asking myself why they sent a handsome, very eligible officer to be my escort. Why didn’t they send a married officer with five kids? Why you?”
He walked slowly toward her, halting only inches away. His body was rigid with tension and he spoke quietly but with a hint of steel in his voice. “Thanks for the backhanded compliment, but you’re wrong, very wrong. By now I should think it would be obvious why they didn’t send a married officer to run around with you for two days. They don’t get home often enough as it is. The air force doesn’t want to strain the family ties any more than necessary. So they picked me. I’m divorced. I have no children. I’m on a stand-board crew, which means I don’t fly as often as most other SAC crews. Now do you understand?”
Erin felt as if her stomach had fallen to her feet. She took a step away from him, overpowered by his presence. His words had been quiet but spoken with devastating effect. She realized he hadn’t wanted to admit any of the personal details about himself and she felt guilty.
But she had good reason to hate the air force. “You can’t blame me for taking a jaundiced view,” she said through dry lips. “If you were an antimilitary reporter, wouldn’t you expect the other party to bend over backward to make things pleasant for you?”
Ty raised his chin, glaring at her. “In everything you say your hate of the air force comes through loud and clear. Why?” Ty took a step forward, closing the gap between them. “Why?” he demanded again. “I could deal with you if I understood where you’re coming from.
I can respect your reasons. What I can’t respect is the hate and anger you’re aiming at me just because I wear this uniform.”
She made a half turn to escape, but felt the grip of his fingers on her arm bringing her back to face him.
“We’re not finished with this conversation, lady.”
“Let me go!”
“No, Erin,” he growled. “You owe me an honest answer.”
She gritted her teeth, stiffening within his grasp. “You don’t deserve to know!” she whispered angrily. Then, to her dismay, tears gathered. She blinked them back furiously. Oh, God, she mustn’t cry! What was happening? Every time they were together, it was as if an explosive chemical reaction were taking place.
“Why do you hate me?” he demanded.
A small whimper escaped from her lips. “I don’t hate you!” she cried. “Now, let me go!”
Ty released her and stalked toward the door, jerking it open. Halting, he turned. “You’re due in the chamber in ten minutes. Be there.” The door slammed shut behind him.
Erin stood without moving for long minutes, trying desperately to control the raging emotions Ty had stirred to life. He was right, she had to admit. She hated his uniform, not him. Her eyes grew wide at the realization.
She stared toward the door. She shouldn’t feel so drawn to him, but she did. Damn! He had every right to be hurt by her dislike of the air force. How would she feel? Groaning, Erin scooped up her notebook and purse. Right now she had no time to pull him aside and apologize for her overreaction. She would apologize as soon as the hyperbaric chamber experience was completed.
John McIntire smiled genially as she entered the rectangular chamber. Two other airmen, both young, were already outfitted in full oxygen gear. The chamber was empty otherwise, and her footsteps echoed oddly within it.
“Sit here, Erin,” McIntire told her. “Let Airman Reeves help you on with the gear.” He patted her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t look so frightened. Everyone goes into this chamber thinking the worst. And you know what? They all come out smiling when it’s over. Nothing will happen. You just sit back and relax while Sergeant Calvin and I sit at the controls. You’ll be in good hands.”
Her heart began a slow pound as an
airman in a white helmet with an oxygen mask came forward with her equipment. She didn’t like the chamber at all. After fitting on the helmet, she waited while the airman adjusted the oxygen mask. But when it was clapped over her nose and mouth she felt suddenly panicky.
“We have to make sure we have a good seal,” the airman explained, flipping several switches on a console. “If you don’t have a good seal, you can get hypoxia in here.” He smiled warmly. “And we don’t want that to happen. I’m going to shut off the air now. Breathe in as deeply as you can. Next I’ll put it on gang load. You’ll feel oxygen pressing against your face. At that time I want you to hold your breath so we can make sure there are no leaks between your face and the mask.”
Erin barely heard the instructions. Her hands felt cold and clammy. The instant the airman hit the “off” switch, she was without air. Instinctively she gripped the mask, her eyes wide and fearful. The airman nodded as if to indicate that her reaction was normal.
“Good,” he praised. “Now for the gang load position.”
Air shot through the hose to her mask, and Erin jumped in surprise. The air rushing into the mask bowed the supple plastic of the oxygen mask outward. She tried to breathe normally, but the rush of oxygen continued, and panic surged through her.
“Great,” the airman murmured, flipping the switches back to normal. He straightened up and gave the colonel and sergeant who were at the control panel window a thumbs-up gesture. “She’s ready,” the airman announced.
No, I’m not, Erin screamed silently. She was trembling with fear. Why was she reacting so strongly? Desperately, she sought the reason for the ugly backwash of fear coursing through her. It made her feel like a small child who was frightened by a stalking nightmare. She was so caught up in trying to regain her emotional stability that she didn’t see Ty Phillips come into the chamber until he passed in front of her. Immediately, her panic eased. She was so glad to see him!
With the mask strapped tightly against Ty’s face, Erin couldn’t read his features except for his eyes. The anger that had been in them only minutes before was gone. As he sat down beside her, she took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes.
“Are you all right?” His voice came through the headset in her helmet.
She stared at him. “I—uh, yes. I’m fine.” It was difficult to breathe and talk with the mask in place, and remnants of her previous fear still gripped her. Why wouldn’t it go away?
Ty was watching her with more than casual interest. Looking up at the airman, he said, “Ask the colonel to take us up nice and slow.”
“Yes, sir.”
The next instant the hatch clanged shut and a hiss permeated the chamber. To Erin, it sounded as if a huge dungeon door had been slammed shut, imprisoning her inside. She clenched her hands in her lap. Ty reached out, covering her hands with his.
“Take it easy,” he soothed. “We’ll have to sit here for a half hour while they denitrogenize our blood. That way, when we get to the high altitudes, we won’t get the bends.”
His words registered but, more than anything, his calming voice worked a minor miracle on her ragged nerves. She closed her eyes. She would just have to sit still for half an hour and talk away the incredible monster of a fear that was eating at her emotional control.
“Right now,” Ty murmured, “we’re breathing on a demand regulator. That means you have to work a little bit for each breath. I want you to relax some more. You’re stiff.” He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. “That’s my girl.”
Erin saw the corners of his eyes crinkle and knew he was smiling. It made her feel a little better. He seemed to sense her need to touch him, to hold on to something solid and reassuring. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d become, and she forced her shoulders to drop. She tried to inhale more steadily.
“Talk to me,” Ty urged gently. “Are you alive and well under that helmet and mask?”
His teasing tone made her smile. Gripping the mask, she nodded. “Barely…”
“This is a real chamber of horrors to most civilians. After a while you’ll get used to it. It’s a strange sensation and one that very few people except military pilots and crew members experience. Relax, Erin. We’ll get you through this in one piece.” His eyes took on a familiar glint of mockery. “Besides, I want to take you out to dinner tonight to celebrate passing this test.”
She shook her head. “How can you?” she asked in half breaths, again having trouble breathing evenly.
“You think just because we have a tiff I’m going to ignore you? No way, darlin’.”
“You’re a glutton for punishment, then,” she told him.
“Maybe, but you’re worth the effort.”
Erin looked away. Did she dare believe what his words seemed to suggest—that he cared for her a great deal more than she’d realized? Confusion mingled with the gut-wrenching fear that still churned within her. She turned back to him. “Did you have to come in here?” she asked.
He shook his head solemnly. “No. I was watching you through one of the windows and saw you were having a pretty bad reaction. I figured some company might help settle those fears.”
Her throat constricted with sudden emotion. “Thanks,” was all she could whisper. His fingers tightened against hers. Tentatively she returned the pressure. “I’m glad you’re here,” she admitted.
His eyes danced with good humor. “There’s more than one way to tame a headstrong woman. I feel a little guilty taking advantage of this chamber of horrors to hold your hand. But it’s worth it.”
The laughter in his voice made the cloak of Erin’s dread slip back a bit further from her shoulders. He was a good tonic.
The half hour passed slowly but surely with Ty’s easy banter and instructions to keep her mind off her fear. Once their blood was completely free of nitrogen, the steps necessary to familiarize Erin with oxygen at high-altitude flight began. She was able to clear her ears simply by swallowing, and Ty gave a thumbs-up signal.
“Hey, pretty good. A lot of people have to do a Valsalva by pinching their noses shut and blowing air back into their Eustachian tubes to clear them. Very good, darlin’. Maybe you ought to sign up with the air force and become a crew member.”
She shook her head firmly. “No, thanks!”
He lifted his broad shoulders, his laughter floating into her ears. “You’d be the prettiest crew member anyone’s seen. I can hardly wait to get you up to K.I. Sawyer and watch those other crews drool with envy. It isn’t every day we get such a good-looking VIP flying with us.”
“You’re such a crock of blarney, Ty,” she accused, smiling in spite of herself.
“Erin, Ty, we’re going to take you up to thirty-five thousand feet,” McIntire informed them through the microphone.
“Okay,” Ty responded. He looked over at her. “At thirty-five thousand, the mask goes on a pressure-demand position. That means you’re going to get a lot of air flowing into it,” he explained.
Erin nodded, feeling somewhat easier. So far she had remained in the chamber for forty-five minutes, and the fear seemed to be staying at bay. Again a loud hiss filled the chamber, and Erin instinctively tensed.
The instant the whoosh of oxygen hit her, her fragile control shattered. Suddenly, she was drinking in larger and larger drafts of air, unable to exhale. She clawed at the mask, panic surging to the surface. Blackness began to rim her vision, and she shut her eyes.
“Erin!” Ty’s voice came quietly through the earphone.
She twisted to one side, a cry lodged in her throat. She felt someone’s arms go around her, pulling her hand away from the mask. “Exhale,” Ty commanded. “Erin! Listen to me.”
She was aware of sharp orders being given. The two other airmen hovered around her. The hiss of the chamber intensified her fear. Suddenly, she was no longer in the chamber, but in the middle of a pond as a twelve-year-old child. She screamed, trying to keep her head above the water that rushed over her. It flowed into her nostrils and
down her throat, suffocating her. Wasn’t anyone going to help? Was she going to drown? The water kept closing in over her head, and she screamed with panic, her arms flailing wildly.
Then arms came around her, rescuing her. She was being dragged back to shore, gagging and vomiting up the water she’d swallowed. She lay on the bank, gasping for air. Someone rolled her over on her stomach and forced the rest of the water out. She lay there for what seemed an eternity, gasping in life-giving oxygen. She had nearly died….
Again she felt someone’s arms around her. She heard Ty’s calming voice. “Inhale just a little, Erin. Come on. That’s right. Not a full breath. You aren’t going to suffocate. Come on. Listen to me.” She struggled to concentrate on his words. After a few seconds her vision began to clear and she realized that Ty had his arm around her shoulder, his other hand gripping her hand. Both airmen remained close, their brows drawn together in concern as they watched her. She felt weak and drained.
“Okay, Ty?” McIntire asked.
“Yeah, I think so. Just level us off at twenty-five thousand feet so the oxygen is on demand only,” he ordered tightly.
Ty released Erin, watching her with a guarded expression in his eyes. He didn’t relinquish her hand, but gripped it firmly, giving her a measure of solace.
Erin shakily touched her helmet and realized that the mask was back on the demand position, giving her only what she wanted to inhale. Slumping against the seat, she closed her eyes. “I’m—I’m sorry….” she managed, her voice harsh.
“It’s all right, darlin’. You regained control. That’s all that counts,” Ty soothed. “Look, we’ve got a few other tests to run in here and then we’ll be finished.” He squeezed her hand. “Think you can stay the distance?”
“As long as you’re here,” she admitted tiredly, rolling her head to the left, catching his soft, blue gaze.
“I’ll be here,” he promised gently. “Always.”
An hour and a half later, Erin walked out of the chamber, still feeling shaken. Ty kept a tight grip on her elbow as he guided her to the lobby. After settling her on one of the leather couches, he went to get some hot coffee. Thanking him, she took the paper cup in her icy fingers. He sat down next to her, his arm resting above her on the couch. Just then John McIntire returned, frowning.
On Wings of Passion Page 4
