Once that hurdle was taken, he and Miranda would have to have a serious chat about flying.
CHAPTER SIX
Miranda crossed her arms and held on to her ribs as the plane began its roll down the runway. She squeezed her eyes shut. Concentrate on Mom. That’s what’s important. Nothing else. She felt the momentum press her into her seat, the tires rumbling across the cement, then the split-second sensation of near weightlessness as the plane became airborne and settled into the smooth cushion of air. Surprised at the familiar sensation of exhilaration, one she hadn’t experienced for more than fifteen years, she opened her eyes and watched out the window as the ground fell away beneath her. Owen’s solid presence in the left seat, his strong hand on the controls, untied one of the knots in her stomach. She shut her eyes again and leaned back, her hands now relaxed in her lap. The takeoff had been sweet.
It was landing that scared her to death.
Think about Mom. Think about Mom. Recriminations scrolled across the inside of her eyelids. If only I had paid more attention when Neil called two days ago. I could have driven to Atlanta if I’d known how serious her problem was. But no. I had a handsome man at my door, and he was ultra-hot. Neil was an alarmist. Owen had rescued me from Hank’s mistake. Neil was a hypochondriac. Owen was … a hunk. A hunk I wanted to climb all over. So my damp panties made me blow off Neil’s worries, and now look where I am: 18,000 feet in the air. Shit. Piss. Fuck. Sorry, God, I’m breaking my potty-mouth abstinence promise. This kind of crisis calls for four-letter words. Lots of ’em.
“Everything okay back there?”
Her eyes snapped open. “Fine. I’m fine. Everything okay up there?”
Owen’s face held half a grin. She could tell he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to smile, or if she’d lean forward and puke on him.
“Your lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear you,” he explained. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t asking me about something.”
God, he was cute. Staring at him could certainly help distract her. She plastered an overly bright and somewhat maniacal grin on her face and said, “Are we there yet?”
He examined the cockpit ceiling. “Soon, love, soon.”
She pretended to close her eyes again but kept them open a slit to watch him. His polo shirt stretched taut around his biceps and hugged his broad shoulders. The blond hairs on his right forearm glinted golden in the sunlight pouring through the cockpit windows. His right hand gripped the yoke almost casually. In fact, his whole demeanor radiated comfortable command and relaxed, yet alert, oversight. The plane had autopilot, but he continued to fly manually. That she understood, all too well. She had the strangest urge to take hold of the yoke and feel the plane’s vibrations up her arms and into her bones. She had always liked the feeling of power it gave her, knowing she had control over the complicated machine. Maybe pilots who had thousands of hours under their belt liked to sit back and relax. She’d not had more than a couple of hundred before— She chopped that line of thought off.
“We’ll be landing in about five minutes.”
Miranda snapped upright in her seat. She’d fallen asleep? No way. She checked her watch. My God, she had. Unbelievable. Last night’s exercise in bed with Owen had taken more out of her than she’d realized.
“I let you sleep as long as I could, but I didn’t want you to wake up just as we were landing and be startled.” He winced, looking around at her, obviously not sure whether he’d made the right call.
She wished she could have slept through this part, but no doubt the change in air pressure would have woken her, anyway. She looked out the window but couldn’t see the airport. It would be ahead on the left if he entered the traffic pattern in the normal way, on the downwind leg. The sky was clear, the wind calm. The landing should go without a hitch.
Her stomach didn’t believe her.
Miranda looked at Owen’s back, and her vision blurred, replacing him with her father in his windbreaker and Miami Dolphins ballcap. She squeezed her eyes shut, wrapped her arms around herself, put her chin down and hunched in her seat. She felt the landing gear lock down with a thump. Owen talked on the radio, confirming their clearance to land. She felt the bank as he turned left onto the base leg. It would be short, and the next left would line them up with the runway on final approach.
“Hang in there, Honey, we’re almost down.” His voice was calm and soothing. He must have glanced back to see her huddled in fear.
Crap. This was NOT the time to distract the pilot with whimpers and moans. She clamped her jaws together and took deep breaths through her nose.
The plane banked left again. In her mind, all Miranda could see was a rolling green fairway bordered with pine trees on the right, just past a big bunker. No! She shook her head hard to erase the image. She held her breath, listening as Owen pulled back on the throttle to slow the plane. The nose came up as he flared seconds before touchdown. The gentlest of bumps, and they were down.
Miranda opened her eyes and took a breath. She was lightheaded from holding it so long. No smashed windows. No blood all over the instrument panel. She wasn’t hanging upside down, held by her seat belt.
The plane slowed to make the turn onto the taxiway.
“You okay, Miranda?”
“Yes. Perfect landing, Captain.” Her voice shook, and her hands were trembling from the adrenaline rush. She scraped them down her pants legs.
Owen pulled the aircraft into the assigned tie-down slot, and the ground crew shoved a chock against the nose wheel. He shut the engines down and swiveled in his seat, searching her face. “You did great.”
“No, you did great. I, I can’t—”
He waved her thanks away. “Later. Let’s find Neil and get to the hospital.”
She nodded and took his hand as he helped her out of her seat. Once they were out of the plane, she called Neil. “We’re here. Can you pick us up? No, it’s just me and the pilot, Owen Ziegfeld.” She laughed at something he said. “I’ll explain when you get here. Let’s not waste any time. Okay. Right. See you soon.” She hung up and gave Owen an eye roll. “Brace yourself. Neil will treat you like a hero and talk you to death.”
“I’ll be fine.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re the hero. No panic attack, no puking, screaming or crying. Awesome control, honey. Think you can handle a cup of coffee?”
“Yeah. That and a shot of tequila. On second thought, skip the tequila. That got me into trouble once before.”
~~~
Neil arrived in less than fifteen minutes. He hugged Miranda, clapped Owen on the back and hustled them to his car. “Glad you picked this airport. It’s the closest to the hospital your mom is in.” He glanced in the rear view mirror. “I can’t thank you enough for getting our girl here in time. Her momma’s gonna be real relieved.”
“Glad I could help.” Owen studied the man as he talked to Miranda. Mid-sixties, he’d guess. Salt and pepper hair that would be curly if it wasn’t so short, about five foot ten, a little chunky, with a kind face and soft brown eyes. He wore khakis and a plaid shirt and sported an Atlanta Braves ball cap. The rhythm and twang in his speech had country stamped indelibly on it.
“I told your momma you were coming, but since I wasn’t sure how long it would take,” another glance in the rear view mirror, “I didn’t tell her you’d be here to see her before she went under.”
“How is she, Neil?”
“She’s okay now. That last mini-stroke she had made her right eye get all droopy, and her speech got kinda slurred. But in less than a day, she was back to normal. She didn’t want me to call you. But after what the doctor told her, she changed her mind.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t call you back sooner, Neil.”
He shrugged. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.” He dropped them off at the entrance. “She’s on the fifth floor. Turn right when you get off the elevator. Her room’s right across from the nurses’ station. I’ll be right up.”
; When they got off the elevator, Owen stopped at a waiting area. “You go find your mom. I’ll wait for you here.”
Miranda took his hand and squeezed it. The gratitude in her eyes was better than words. She hurried away, and Owen took a seat by the windows.
Neil found him there and came to sit next to him. Without preamble, he jumped right in about Miranda. “You got her in a plane, son. That’s a miracle right there.”
“I know she’s afraid to fly. It shows how strong she is to face her fears when her family needs her.”
“She’s a good girl. I know I drive her crazy worrying all the time. I don’t care so much about me, but I love her momma more than life itself, and I don’t know how Miranda would take it if anything happened to her.” He pushed his cap back. “She told you she’s a pilot, right?” He read the shock on Owen’s face. “Guess not. Her dad was a flight instructor. Taught her how to fly when she was barely tall enough to reach the pedals.”
So, Miranda’s a pilot, huh? Her knowledge of flight terms became clear. But why hadn’t she told him?
Neil was not a man to keep secrets. He plowed ahead. “Yeah, she got her certificate when she was sixteen and was learning on a twin engine when the accident happened.”
Accident? An accident that involved flying? Shit. No wonder she was spooked.
Neil shook his head sadly. “Messed her up real bad. She—” He shut up when Miranda walked into the room.
Good. It was Miranda’s story to tell, and if she hadn’t told him, she wouldn’t want Neil to.
“They’re getting ready to take her downstairs soon.” She glanced back and forth between the two men, examining their expressions. Neil ducked his head and pulled his cap down to shield his eyes. “Neil,” she said sternly. “You told him, didn’t you?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Can’t you keep anything to yourself?”
“Don’t yell at me, Mandy. I just figured he already knew, seein’ as how you were willin’ to fly with him and all.”
Miranda took a deep breath, blew it out and unclenched her fists. She turned to Owen. “Mom would like to talk to you before they take her down. Just for a minute.” She hit Neil with another disgusted expression. “Then she wants you to come in.”
“Why would she want to talk to me?” Owen stood slowly, frowning a bit.
Miranda shrugged and looked toward heaven. “Gee, I can’t imagine why. Might have something to do with you getting me here before she went under.” She tugged on his shoulder. “Go. She won’t bite you, I promise. Neil and I are going to have a little chat while you’re in there.”
Owen shot Neil a sympathetic look. Better you than me, buddy.
He strode toward the room across from the desk, then entered quietly. The morning sun streamed in and laid bright stripes across the bed. The woman lying in it was fine-boned like Miranda but plump where her daughter was slender. Her dark brown hair was longer and threaded with silver, but her eyes matched Miranda’s, large and deep brown, fringed with thick lashes.
She gestured him over. “Come here, Mr. Ziegfeld, I want to get a good look at you.”
“Owen, please, Mrs. Leighton.” He took her outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s Mrs. Sutton now, but you should call me Shirley. I have a feeling we’re going to get to know each other better in the future.” She motioned him to sit in the chair by her bed. “Thank you so much for bringing Miranda here. I thank you even more for getting her on your plane.” She winked at him. “That was a feat no one has accomplished in over fifteen years. You’re quite some miracle worker.”
“Not really, Shirley. I’m sure that without the urgency to see you, I’d never have gotten her in the air. Her love for you trumped her fear of flying. I just happened to have a plane nearby.”
“Oh, fiddle-faddle, don’t be so modest. I could tell by the way my girl spoke of you that she’s got strong feelings there. Convenient or not, I doubt she’d ride with someone she didn’t know well enough to trust—even to get here.”
Owen wasn’t going to argue with the woman, although he wasn’t convinced that there was more between him and Miranda than a strong physical attraction and a fair amount of admiration on both sides.
“I’m glad I could help. You just make sure you come through this operation in good shape. We’ll all be rooting for you.”
She gave him a tender smile. “I plan to. The docs told me the risks, and they are kind of scary. Which is why I wanted to meet you before they put me under. I like to cover all my bases, so if this is the last time we chat, I’m asking you to take care of Mandy for me. Will you do that?”
Not knowing what else to say, Owen nodded. “I will. But you’ll be seeing us all again in a few hours.” He stood. “I’m going to get Neil. He’s nervous as hel—heck, and I know he wants to see you one more time.”
He beat a hasty retreat down the hall. “You’re up, Neil.”
Her stepdad patted Miranda’s hand and hurried out of the waiting room. She stood and went over to the coffee machine, poured herself a cup and turned to Owen. “I’ll bet that was quite a conversation between you and Mom.”
He followed her lead and got himself a cup. “Your mom and dad seem to think I’m some kind of miracle worker. I tried to duck that halo they wanted to hang on me, but they’re both pretty stubborn.” He sat next to her. “Sort of like someone else I know.”
“How much did Neil tell you?”
“For one thing, he told me you’re a pilot. Jeez, Miranda. Unlike Neil, you sure know how to keep a secret.”
“Pretty stupid to claim I’m a pilot when I won’t even set foot in a plane.”
“Wouldn’t set foot. Past tense.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, flyboy. I’m not even sure I’ll fly back to Naples with you.” She took a sip of coffee.
He gaped at her. “Really? You did so well, considering, I thought you’d make the return flight with no problems.”
She bit her lip and looked away. “The trauma is still there, believe me. If I wasn’t so worried about Mom, I never would have flown with you.”
Well, that put him in his place. Miranda’s mother had obviously been given the wrong impression. Hopping into the sack with him was one thing, leaving the ground with him was quite another. He sighed. “Maybe if you talked to somebody about the accident…”
“How much do you know about that?”
“Nothing. Just that there was one.”
“I’ve tried psychiatry. Didn’t work out well.” She shrugged. “It was a long time ago, though…”
Neil came to the door. “They’ve come to take her, Mandy.”
They both went to the door. The orderly slowed as he pushed the gurney past them. “She’s had some sedation.”
Miranda leaned over and kissed her mother’s forehead. “We’ll be waiting for you, Mom. Don’t be long, now.”
Shirley’s eyelids fluttered open, and she laid her hand on Miranda’s cheek. “Don’t you worry, baby girl.” Then she glanced up at Owen. “Remember what I told you, son.”
He nodded. “I will. Good luck.”
“The doctor will come up and talk to you when he’s done,” the orderly said.
“Thank you.”
The three of them watched the stretcher disappear behind the elevator doors.
~~~
“I’m going to give Mike and Kelly a call and let them know where I am,” Owen said.
“Of course. We can’t do anything but wait, now. After you call, we should probably get something to eat. I think there’s a cafeteria down on the first floor.” She wasn’t particularly hungry, but Owen must be. Two cups of coffee since they got up this morning was hardly enough for a big guy like him.
“Sure, whatever you want.” He turned away and walked out of the waiting room, his cell phone already in hand. “Be right back.”
Miranda watched him go, then turned to Neil. “You had no business talking to Owen about my past, Neil.”
; “I guess not, honey, but I figured you’d already spilled the beans before you’d get in an airplane with him.”
“Well, I hadn’t, Neil. I don’t go around telling casual acquaintances my life history.”
“I didn’t think Owen was a casual acquaintance, Mandy.”
She cringed. Please don’t let Owen have told him why I didn’t pick up on his first text message.
“Not the way he looks at you. He’s smitten, Mandy. I can tell.”
She held her hands up to stop his nonsense. What Mom sees in Neil, I’ll never know, but since she’d married him, she’s been a much happier woman. There is no doubt he worships the ground she walks on, so who am I to disagree? Please, God, let this surgery go well. My head has such a jumble of mixed emotions bouncing around in there, it’s a wonder it doesn’t explode.
Owen came back, and the three of them found the cafeteria on the first floor. Owen got an enormous Cobb salad, Neil loaded his plate with mac and cheese, and she got three chicken tenders and a glass of iced tea. She managed to get one down before her stomach rebelled. Between her mom’s operation and the thought of flying back to Naples, her stress level red-lined the acid-o-meter. She gave the remaining chicken to Neil, who wolfed it down like a starving dog.
She swore the clock in the waiting room was broken. The hands crawled around the face in slow motion while she paced. Finally Dr. Bradley arrived to tell them that her mother had come through the operation with flying colors. “They’ll bring her up from the recovery room in another fifteen minutes or so. We’ll keep an eye on her for 48 hours, then if there are no complications, she can go home.”
Owen stayed in the background while she and Neil hugged each other in relief. When the doctor left, Miranda went over and hugged Owen. “Thank you, again, Owen. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you—”
Barefoot Bay_Flight Risk Page 8
