Tailspin

by Sandra Brown

After the mayor and Elsa left, and all the TV people in the yard went home, I didn’t feel good.

  Mostly I was sad over Dr. O’Neal leaving without even saying hi.

  There’s another nurse now instead of Jill. She doesn’t have braids or shoes with lights on them.

  Daddy fed my brothers pizza and sent them to their room to watch a movie. He and Mom keep checking on me. By now, I can tell when they’re just plain worried, and when they’re really worried. They’re really worried.

  I heard Mom say to Daddy, “I was afraid this would happen. But Senator and Mrs. Hunt were so generous and kind to do it.”

  “How could you say no?”

  “I couldn’t, but…”

  That’s all I heard. I think they went into the kitchen and called an ambulance.

  But now I see that the lights aren’t on an ambulance after all. It’s two policemen on motorcycles and a police car. Have they come to take us back to the airplane with the couch in it? Will we fly back to Atlanta tonight?

  I hope not, because I’m really tired. And I want to sleep in my room with Cy another night. I don’t want to cry. When I cry it makes everybody feel bad.

  Wait. Dr. O’Neal is getting out of the back seat of the police car! She came back!

  The tall man in the old leather jacket came back with her. But not Timmy and not Dr. Lambert, and I’m glad.

  Dr. O’Neal and the man are jogging up the walk. Mom and Daddy have gone out to meet them. Mom is hugging Dr. O’Neal. Daddy shakes hands with the tall man.

  I think he must be a good friend of Dr. O’Neal’s, because they get into each other’s personal space a lot, but they never say excuse me.

  Mom wants them to come inside, but the man is shaking his head no. I think he’s saying something about the police car, because he’s started walking backward toward it. Dr. O’Neal is pulling on his hand, like she doesn’t want him to leave. But he keeps shaking his head.

  Mom hugs him. Daddy shakes his hand again, using both hands, and then they come back inside.

  Dr. O’Neal and the man just stand there looking at each other, and then they sorta crash together, and hug each other tight, and start kissing like people do in the TV movies that are inappropriate for young audiences. Seriously? I know grown-ups kiss and make babies.

  Dr. O’Neal scoots closer to the tall man until they’re touching all up and down. Maybe she wants to marry him. But if they do get married, I hope their kids don’t get cancer.

  When they quit kissing, he gives Dr. O’Neal a little push toward the porch.

  He starts walking toward the police car. Dr. O’Neal turns and runs up the walk.

  I hear the front door open and close. She’s talking in a hurry to Mom and Daddy. Now they’re all coming to my room really quick. Dr. O’Neal is the first one in. Her cheeks are pink, and she’s breathing fast like she’s been running. There’s a big tear in her coat. You can see the stuffing. Her boots have mud on them. Her hair needs brushing.

  But I don’t care. I’m so happy to see her.

  But she looks even more happy to see me.

  Epilogue

  Six weeks later

  Using the familiar old-fashioned room key, Rye let himself into the cabin, but stopped short on the threshold when he saw Brynn sitting on the end of the bed.

  This first sight of her since he’d told her goodbye at the Griffins’ house sent his heart into arrhythmia, making it difficult to appear cool. But he tried to act nonchalant as he stepped inside and shut the door.

  “Do you come with the cabin now?” He took in the familiar burlap lampshades, paint-by-number artwork, the striped bedspread. “Must say, you spruce up the decor.”

  “Thank you. I wasn’t sure you would recognize me.”

  His brows went up as he shrugged off his jacket. “I recognize that biting tone.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to start right in.”

  “Hmm. You were going to work up to telling me what a bastard I am?”

  “Oh, I’ll get there.”

  He came even to where she sat and propped his butt against the dresser. “I’ve only seen you in one set of clothes, so you do look different.”

  She laughed softly. “I have cleaned up a bit since I last saw you.”

  He would have bet his bomber jacket that he remembered how much he liked her face, but the wager would have lost him his prized possession. Even his most vivid memories of her paled in comparison to the living, breathing version.

  She was wearing a slender black skirt and high-heeled boots. Her pale gray sweater was thin, not bulky. It clung to her breasts, which he knew were a perfect fit in his palms.

  He gave a soft cough. “Marlene tell you I was coming today?”

  “She called to inform me a few days ago. Said she hoped I was free. I think she’s matchmaking.”

  As though the idea of Marlene White playing Cupid was amusing, he made an effort to smile. It didn’t quite work. “She didn’t know where I was staying.”

  “No. I played a hunch.”

  “You talked a key out of the pothead?”

  “I played him, too.”

  “I bet.” He looked her over. “That getup. He’d have to be a monk to hold out, and probably not even then.”

  She blushed over the compliment but didn’t acknowledge it. “How was Brady’s flight?”

  This time his smile was automatic. “He was like a kid at Christmas. I gave him control a couple of times. I swear, it was so much fun to watch him having so much fun. We flew over this wide-open pasture in a valley. I banked, came around for a second pass, went in real low, almost like I was going to do a touch-and-go, then climbed out steep. Brady—” Catching himself, he stopped.

  Her expression was knowing, a trifle smug. “How nice that you can give him such a treat, but remain detached and uninvolved.”

  He looked down and studied the toe of his boot. When he raised his head, he met her steady gaze head-on. “It was great.”

  She didn’t gloat over his admission. Her victory lap came in the form of a soft smile. “I know today meant a lot to both of them.”

  “It meant a lot to me.”

  After a brief but weighty silence, she asked if he and Dash were on speaking terms again.

  “Yeah. He was in a tight spot. I forgave him.”

  “You were the one in the tight spot. How’d it go with the FAA, the NTSB?”

  “Good. Wilson and Rawlins helped.”

  “They met you when you got back that night?”

  “At the hangar when I returned Jake’s plane. They delivered me to the detectives who were investigating the crime scene at the Hunts’. I was questioned.”

  “I was deposed in Knoxville the next day.”

  “I owned up to ‘subduing’ Timmy in order to protect you. Wilson and Rawlins vouched that neither of us was there to witness the shootings, so we didn’t know how it played out after we left.

  “They also explained the medical emergency that you and I were responding to. Lambert confirmed it. The police were much more focused on Senator Hunt, who kept changing his story. Still, it was hours before they freed me to go.

  “Rawlins, Wilson, and I barely made the nine o’clock meeting up here, but we did. We trooped out to the crash site. I talked the agents through what happened. You, me, Lambert all attested to Timmy’s confession about trying to crash the plane. I was cleared. Investigation closed.”

  Her face lit up with her smile. He found himself looking at her mouth. He longed to dab the corner of her lips with his thumb. His tongue.

  He dragged his gaze back up to hers. “How’s Violet? Is the drug working?”

  “No negative side effects. Her latest blood test shows a marked increase in healthy blood cells. The cancer hasn’t spread. We’re holding our breath, but it looks good.”

  “That’s great news, Brynn.”

  “You can drop the surprised act,” she said dryly. “Nate told me you’ve called him three times to ask about her.”

/>   “I wanted to know.”

  “No need to get defensive, Rye. I didn’t accuse you of anything except being a kind and caring human being. I appreciate your concern, and so do the Griffins. You certainly had a vested interest in Violet’s prognosis. It would be nice if she could thank you personally.”

  Dodging that, he said, “To hear Lambert tell it, Violet’s turnaround was due to him and his genius.”

  “Nate is obnoxious and unlikable—”

  “That doesn’t begin to cover it.”

  “—but he also did the research along with me. He put in the long hours, too. He’s entitled to take credit.”

  “No more than half.”

  She gave a modest shrug and became reflective. Voice quiet, she said, “You nailed it, you know.”

  “What?”

  “To some extent, I was doing it for me. Not for acclaim. Not to become famous, but to—”

  “Live down being a convict’s kid.”

  “You saw that.”

  He shrugged. “Little bit. Anyway, it’s not a sin.”

  “No doubt my mother’s death contributed to my ambition. But when I was most ashamed of my last name, the loftiest goal I could conceive of was to become Dr. O’Neal.”

  “Doesn’t matter why you did it, Brynn. Matters that you did.”

  Her saw her throat work with emotion. “Well, the important thing is that Violet’s improvement will open up clinical trials for other patients.”

  He gave her a thumbs-up. “Way to go, Dr. O’Neal.”

  God, he loved when she blushed.

  “Did Nate tell you the irony?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “The morning following the infusion, I called my answering service for the first time since I’d checked out on Thanksgiving eve. They’d been unable to call me because…well, you know.

  “Anyway, there were three calls designated as urgent. I didn’t recognize the name or number. It turned out to be a member of the FDA review board who was considering the compassionate use of GX-42 for Violet.

  “The board member had seen the news story about her and recognized the name. She spent hours Thanksgiving night calling other members of the board. By morning she had a consensus. They approved the application for Violet and gave it emergency status.”

  He laughed. “No shit?”

  “No shit. I’d been given leave to use the drug immediately. I didn’t breach ethics after all.”

  “I’ll be damned. Shining the spotlight on Violet actually worked against the Hunts.”

  “That’s the irony. And Richard Hunt is in the worst kind of spotlight. He’s got so many spin doctors spinning, he still can’t keep his stories straight. The latest is that Goliad was jealous of Timmy and obsessed with Delores. It’s a muddle.”

  She leaned back, propping herself up on her hands. When she crossed her legs, a split on the side of her skirt opened. It took a moment for her words to register.

  He said, “I doubt anyone will ever know the whole of it. Hunt will continue to lie and maneuver. Postpone. ”

  “Meanwhile fighting for his life,” Brynn said. “Secretly he’s undergoing chemo and radiation, but that only buys him time. According to Nate, he still refuses to apply for the exemption for fear of disclosure. He says that’s all the media would need to ruin him.”

  Another lull ensued. Rye remained fixated on the several inches of thigh visible above her boot. He wanted to start there and kiss his way up.

  Before he embarrassed himself, he refocused. “How’s Wes?”

  “He caught a shoplifter the other day.”

  “That’s what they pay him for.”

  “Yes, but he let her go without reporting her. She had three children under three years old, and was shoplifting a home pregnancy test. Dad thought she deserved a break.”

  They shared a smile, but after a moment hers turned wistful. She sat up straight and cleared her throat. “The other day, Violet asked me about the man in the old leather coat.” She cut a glance toward his bomber jacket where he’d draped it over the back of a chair. “Seems she saw us kissing outside her house. She asked if you were my boyfriend.” She waited a beat before saying, “I told her no.”

  He didn’t say anything, but shifted his position against the dresser, telling himself it was because that spot on his butt had gone numb.

  Brynn continued, “I told her no because I could never fall for a man who shuts people out. Strangers. Even people who care about him. I told her that no matter how attractive he was, or how amazingly good sex with him was, or how he’d been willing to sacrifice his pilot’s license—the thing he values above everything else—in order to save her life, I couldn’t pine for a man who takes off in an airplane, indifferent to whether or not he’ll safely land.”

  She looked down at her open palm and dusted it with the other. “Knowing how others would grieve the loss of his life, it’s selfish of him to have such careless disregard for it. I asked Violet why in the world a sane woman would want a man like that.”

  “No sane woman would,” he said. “He sounds like a loser.”

  “That’s just it. He’s not.”

  “You were supposed to be building up to calling him a bastard.”

  “What good would it do?”

  He pushed off the dresser and went over to the window. He flicked the tacky drape open. It was cold out. The wind was brisk. But the sky was crystal clear, not a cloud in sight. It had been a perfect day for Brady’s flight.

  “I knew a guy like that,” he said. “He was a sullen and self-centered son of a bitch. Thought he had problems. Thought life wasn’t worth living. He was carrying around all this crap over an accident, an airplane crash. Thirteen people died. Anybody would be sick over that.

  “But the thing with him was, he was conceited enough to think that somehow he could’ve prevented it. That he could’ve overturned aviation physics, or outsmarted fate, karma, the alignment of the stars, God’s will, whatever, when, stripped down to basic fact, it was their time.”

  Keeping his back to Brynn, he looked up at the sky through the window. He’d been wrong: There was a small cloud drifting past, caressing the crest of a hill.

  He took a deep breath. “Anyway, this guy thought he should have died that day, and, because he didn’t, he waited for another opportunity. Sure enough, one night, when he really had no business flying, he lost control of his aircraft.

  “Odd as it seems, he didn’t just let it crash and death take him. Instead, he fought like hell to survive. Odder still, the crash turned out to be the best damn thing that could have happened to him. It shook him up. Woke him up.

  “Over the course of a couple of days following it, he came to realize that maybe there was a purpose to his still being around. A reason for him not to have flown that C-12 that day. Maybe he could help save a kid’s life. Or give a thrill ride to a guy who couldn’t fly himself. Who knows why things turn out the way they do?” He braced his hands on the windowsill and lowered his head between his hunched shoulders.

  In a husky voice, Brynn asked, “What happened to him?”

  “He cleaned up his act. Some. He’d made a new buddy who flies for a freight carrier. Big, slick outfit. They need experienced pilots. He’s considering it. A necktie is required, but he’ll have a permanent address, and the pay is good. Good enough for his buddy to afford to have his own plane, and he’s always hoped to own one himself.

  “He spent Christmas with his family. Held his nephew. He went so far as to firm up a date for a return visit. Told his folks he might bring somebody along, if they didn’t mind.”

  “Who?”

  “Aw, there was this girl. Woman, rather. Quite a woman. Smart. Sassy. Took no shit. Thick and silky hair. Eyes the color of fog. Or rain when moonlight shines through it. A body that made him want to take his time, go slow, make it last, hold back. Or speed the hell up. Christ, just looking at her made his mouth water. Once, he got so lost, he forgot a condom, came insid
e her.” He shook his lowered head. “Before that, he’d thought nothing could top being airborne.”

  He paused, ran his hands up and down the front of his thighs. “But, he blew it.”

  “How?”

  “He was a coward. Kept pushing her away. Shut her out.”

  “What was he afraid of? Involvement?”

  “Too late for that. He was sunk the minute he tackled her and saw her face for the first time. No, what he was afraid of was that she would see him for what he was, and tell him to stay the hell out of her life.

  “But the poor sap held out the hope that one day she would show up unexpectedly. He sort of hoped that if that happened, she wouldn’t be as desirable as he remembered, that he wouldn’t want her any more. Instead, it was all he could do to keep his hands off her.”

  Nothing was said for a time, then Brynn said with exasperation, “You’ll fly through zero visibility and a mile and a half of thunderstorms, but you won’t walk across ten feet of ugly carpet? You are a coward.”

  He turned and cocked his head to one side. “What? Oh. You thought I was talking about me?”

  She ducked her head and laughed, then looked up at him again, challenge in her eyes.

  He sighed. “You’re gonna make me come after you, aren’t you?”

  “If you want me, it’s required.”

  In two long strides, he was cupping her shoulders, pressing her back onto the bed, settling atop her as she stretched out beneath him. He pushed his hands up through her hair, clasped her head, said, “I want you,” then fused his mouth to hers. Though it was broad daylight, they kissed with the unleashed desire reserved for the dark.

  He couldn’t get enough of her, of feeling her breasts moving against his chest, her breath rushing across his lips with excitement and happiness, both evident in her glistening eyes when he finally raised his head and looked into them.

  “We’ve known each other for less than two full days,” he said. “This could be the worst mistake you ever make, Brynn.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Reaching under her sweater, he unhooked her bra, then put his hands inside the cups, reshaped her breasts with gentle squeezes, tweaked the hard tips, then bared them to his seeking mouth.