Night Flight (33 page)

“You love flying, Sam. But unlike my father, you can separate it from the other parts of your life.”

“You’re the most important part of my life,” he told her, holding her gaze. “Did you know that?”

Shaken, Megan whispered, “No, but it feels good to hear that.”

“You’ve been number one in my heart from the day I met you. Lauren can tell you how often she saw me sitting at my desk, daydreaming. I’d catch myself thinking of you in moments when my focus wasn’t engaged on a design problem, or flying. And at night—” he leaned over, kissed her cheek and tasted the salt of her tears “—you made my nightmares seem not so bad.”

Sniffing, Megan wiped her eyes. “Sam, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Sure.”

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to.”

Giving her a small shake, he said, “I’d do anything in the world for you, Megan. You’ve got to know that by now.”

Mustering her courage, she lifted her lashes and held his darkened cobalt gaze. “I—I think I’m ready to go over to me cemetery—today. I’m ready to face my parents….”

His heart swelled with pride over her courage. The crash had ripped off a heavy scar that Megan had been trapped behind for so long. “Okay,” he said thickly, “let’s go.”

Megan stood at the gate of the cemetery. Sam was at her side. On the way out of the house he’d given her a three-day-old bouquet of flowers to put on the graves, if she wanted to. She loved him fiercely for his thoughtfulness. Swallowing hard, Megan knew what she had to do, and it had to be done alone.

The cemetery was small and beautiful, with Arizona sycamore the predominant tree. There were no fancy headstones, only small, square concrete plaques with bronze lettering to indicate the graves. It was warm, and Megan took off her coat, handing it to Sam.

“I-I’ll be back,” she choked out.

“Take your time, Red.”

Blindly turning away, Megan held the small map she’d gotten from the caretaker’s office. Her parents were buried together in the northeast corner. The walks were laid out in precise military fashion, redbrick that reminded her of spilled blood. Clutching the bouquet of roses, Megan began the long walk by herself.

As she approached the two graves, the last two in the row next to the black wrought-iron fence, tears began to flow unchecked from her eyes. She stood in front of them, sobbing. Her mother’s grave was first. Megan kneeled down in the springy grass and leaned back on her heels. All the memories surrounding her suicide came back. Megan remembered the shock of finding her mother in the bed, dead from an overdose of sleeping pills. Allowing all those terrible, wrenching emotions to come up and consume her, Megan sat there releasing tears she’d never spilled when she was eighteen.

Finally, the storm of weeping abated, and in its place, a miraculous calm inhabited Megan. With shaking hands, she took six of the red roses, now in full bloom, and laid them across her mother’s grave.

“Mom? I—I love you. I always did. I think I understand now how you felt, and why you did what you did.” Megan wiped her cheek with the back of her sleeve. “Father was wrong to tell you that you’d finally stopped running. If he’d given you support, believed in you, maybe things would have been different.” She reached down, placing the flat of her hand against the marker. It was warm and dry. “I’m sorry you had no one, Mom. I now know it wasn’t my fault that you died. For so long, I blamed myself. I loved you as much as I could, but it wasn’t enough. It could never be enough.”

Pulling her hand away, Megan managed a broken smile. “Today, I saw what you feared the most, what you hid from. And to tell the truth, Mom, it was worth running from. It was a living hell. But as I stood there, holding Becky, I realized Sam was just as shaken as we were. Mom, not all pilots are immune to human fears. Do you know how much that meant to me to discover that? All pilots aren’t like Father was. Thank God…”

She slowly got to her feet, smiling down at the six roses lying across her mother’s grave. “I’ve got a lot to work through yet, Mom. And I’m going to come back here and talk to you from time to time.”

Stepping over to her father’s grave, Megan kneeled down. Tears didn’t come, only a sense of grief and loss. “Father, I’m still angry with you. I can’t sit here and say I love you, because you killed whatever I held for you so long ago. Dammit, why didn’t you reach out to us? Why couldn’t you have helped Mom? Did it take so much from your precious love of flying to do it? You helped Mom commit suicide by the very fact you didn’t want to get involved!”

Megan looked up through the spreading arms of the sycamore, her lower lip trembling badly. Hurt soared with her pain. “I’ve met a man, Father, who isn’t like you. Sam’s taught me that not all pilots are uncaring and distant. He loves his flying, but he loves me more.” She shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes as she looked down at the mute grave. “If Sam hadn’t persisted, hung in there with me because I thought he was exactly like you, I’d have lost him. God knows, I never gave him any chances to prove he was any different.

“I’m scared, Father. Sometimes, I feel like Mom did when I think about Sam going up on a flight. But a new side of me, one that I’m learning to trust, tells me differently. You never could talk or share anything with either of us, could you? I don’t understand why! Did we mean so little to you? Were we so insignificant to what was really important in your life, that we were little more than underfoot?” Her voice broke, and Megan sat there in grief.

“It’s amazing all the fears and perceptions I’ve taken on for both of you. I’ll probably spend the rest of my life sorting them out from the real Megan Roberts. I can’t forgive you, Father. At least, not yet. Maybe one of these years I can, but not right now. I hope Sam can help me understand you. If anyone can, he will.” She laid the roses down on his grave. “I’ll be back, Father. There’s so much I have to say, have to ask you. Maybe I’ll never get the answers I’m searching for, but I’m going to try. You can’t be more silent than you were when you were living, so perhaps this is an easier way for both of us.”

Rising unsteadily to her feet, Megan brushed the bits of grass off her knees and lower pant legs. A slight breeze caressed her face, and she turned, going back to the walk. Each step away from the graves made her feel lighter, as if years of burdens were dissolving. In the distance, Megan could see Sam standing alone, holding her jacket. As she drew near, she could see the soberness of his features, the concern burning in his eyes. Each step gave her a sense of euphoria she’d never experienced.

Wiping the last of the tears off her face, Megan halted a few feet away from him. Sam offered her a slight smile.

“Have a good talk with them?” he asked quietly, handing her back the jacket.

“Yes.” She shrugged. “I’m not so sure going to the graves of your parents and talking at length with them is therapeutic, but I feel better.”

Sam slid his arm around Megan’s shoulder and lead her out of the cemetery and back toward the Corvette parked beneath the shade of a sycamore. “Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about it, Red. It’s right for you.”

“That’s another thing I love about you, Sam Holt—you revel in my uniqueness, and you don’t try and stuff me under some convenient label.”

With a grin, he held her upturned face and those green eyes that glowed with hope. “How can you put a redhead under any label? They’re very independent, special people.”

“No,” Megan said, pulling him to a halt and throwing her arms around his shoulders, “you’re the one who’s really special.”

Holt held her long and hard, inhaling her fragrance, the silk of her hair against his cheek. “We’re both special,” he said thickly. “And I love the hell out of you, Red.”

“There’s just one more hurdle, Sam,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“When you fly the Eagle with the canards. I’m scared to death already.”

Shutting his eyes, Sam buried his face in her luxuriant hair. “So am I,” he admitted, “so am I.” But for very different reasons. Somehow, Holt knew he was going to have to find the courage to face the ghost from his past, just as Megan had faced hers. He kissed her cheek and held her more tightly, if that were possible. Did he have the courage to break that final barrier of fear regarding the crash and Russ’s death? Did he? His gut knotted hard, the pain soaring up through him. Holt wasn’t sure. Today’s crash stripped away the last of his bravado. He felt naked, his armor taken from him, with no way to shield or protect himself from the flight.

As Megan eased from his arms, he ached to tell her of the fears that haunted him almost nightly. For two weeks he wouldn’t be flying, and then the all-important test with the canards would occur. Not only would he have to overcome his fear of dying during a landing, but also deal with a jet that had a new design feature installed. How would the Eagle handle? The chances of stalling it would be real—just as real as it was for Stang today.

As Sam climbed in the car, enmeshed in a turmoil of emotions, he wanted to talk to Megan. But how could he? She was fragile from the crash, from finally making a breakthrough with herself and her parents. No, he couldn’t tell her. God knew, Megan had phenomenal strength, but no person should be asked to shoulder burdens like this. Especially not Megan. Their relationship had survived the crash, and Sam was positive it couldn’t withstand Megan knowing about his fears, the ghosts that haunted him.

“Well,” Lauren said to Sam, “tomorrow’s the big day.” She gave him a game smile as he lingered at his desk in Design.

“Yeah, I’ll be glad to get it over with,” Sam muttered. It was quitting time, and most people had left. The way Lauren was hanging around, he knew she wanted to talk to him. Megan got off work in a half-hour, so he had the time.

Shutting the desk drawer and locking it, he reared back in his chair and met her troubled gaze. “What’s wrong, Port?”

She ran her finger along the polished surface of his desk. “The last two weeks have been rotten around here,” she said finally.

Wasn’t that the truth? “It wasn’t your fault, Port,” he said, referring to the crash. Lauren had been visibly upset when she got back Sunday night and found out what had happened.

Lauren sat down in the chair next to Holt’s desk. “I know it’s not a black eye on my record, Sam, but I somehow feel responsible. Could I have nipped Stang in the bud instead of letting him play his petty games with all of us?” Rubbing her brow, she frowned. “Right now, I’m really questioning my management skills.”

“Don’t,” he warned her grimly. “Somebody like Jack is hard to deal with because what he does is subtle, and you can’t collect the kind of proof you need to haul him on the carpet.”

“He really paid one hell of a price,” Lauren said and glanced up at him. “Paralyzed for life from the waist down.”

The thought scared Holt to death. That could happen to him tomorrow morning. What if he couldn’t get past that barrier of fear that had been haunting him? What if he couldn’t concentrate? Only this time, it would be he and Port in the cockpit. It was bad enough he was there, without having her with him. Port was too vital to lose in a lousy crash caused by his inability to handle his fears. Pursing his lips, Sam said nothing, breaking out in a light sweat.

“They’ve already left, you know,” Lauren said.

“The Stangs?”

“Yes. Melody had Jack transferred to a well-known hospital down in Los Angeles yesterday. I guess the moving trucks are coming in today.”

“And then another house on Sharon Drive will be empty.”

“Waiting for the next test pilot student to move in,” she agreed.

“Life goes on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“In a way, I’m glad the Air Force didn’t put Stang up for court-martial,” Sam said. “I think he got the ultimate prison sentence—confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”

Lauren snorted softly. “Gossip going around says that Melody’s got him a vice president’s job lined up at her father’s bank in L.A.”

“Jack will make out just fine. I miss the hell out of Curt, though.”

Sadly, Lauren nodded. “I can’t believe it—a week after the crash, Curt resigned.”

“And he’s already got a job as an aeronautical design engineer. Good money with banker’s hours to boot.” Sam smiled, trying to bolster her flagging spirits. “Come on, Port, we’ll be seeing Curt from time to time. They’ve assigned him to the F-15 project. He’ll be in civilian clothes over here, that’s all.”

“I guess you’re right. It’s a shame he believed Stang’s lie. I know the Air Force wouldn’t have let him resign under any other circumstance. He’s a fine test pilot—I mean, was.”

“Port, he had family problems. Becky wasn’t handling his flying very well. For that matter, neither was their daughter, Patty.”

“I guess there is life after the Air Force, huh?” Port noted ruefully, slowly getting to her feet. She smoothed the wrinkled flight suit out across her thighs.

Mustering a laugh, Sam stood and put papers into his briefcase. “For thirty-year people like us, Port, there is no life after the Air Force.”

“Think it’s a terminal condition?”

Grinning, Sam shrugged. “Better talk to the family of the person. They’re in for thirty years, too.”

“I’m just glad Ryan accepts how important my work is to me,” Lauren agreed. “How’s Megan doing with your new promotion to major and chief test pilot on this project?”

“Coping.”

She tilted her head and gave him a probing look. “What does that mean?”

Snapping the briefcase shut, Sam rested his hands on the top of it. “It means we take one day at a time, and do a hell of a lot of talking and discussing my job.”

“Good communication eases fear,” Lauren said fervently. She checked her watch. “You’d better get going, Sam. I’ll see you over here at five-thiry a.m. and we’ll take a ride in that Eagle with the canards. I’m excited about it. I think it’ll give us the landing requirements we’ve been looking for.”

Fear snapped through Holt, and he forced a cheerful demeanor he didn’t feel. “Yeah, we’ll take the girl up for a spin tomorrow morning.”

She looked up at him, her eyes penetrating. “Sam, you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know…ever since the crash, you’ve looked—” she groped for the right words “—out of sorts.”

Inwardly, Holt winced, but he kept his face neutral. Every night, he’d stay up until 3:00 a.m. to avoid the nightmare he knew would come. At first, Megan was stymied by his night-owl tactics. Unable to tell her the truth because she was still recovering from her own crisis, Sam told her he was studying hard every night on the canard flight. She believed him. Getting three hours of sleep at night wasn’t enough, and he knew it. But what was he going to do? Go to sleep in Megan’s arms and wake up screaming?

If he did, Holt knew he’d have to level with Megan, and he didn’t want to destroy the delicate balance of their relationship with his admittance. Somehow, he’d fly the damn test. Somehow. Even though, deep down, he’d wanted to simply crawl into Megan’s arms and spill out all the ugly fears that inhabited him. Under any other circumstances, he knew Megan had the internal strength to help him carry his loads.

“The crash shook me up,” he admitted quietly, knowing he didn’t dare speak to Lauren about his fears. She might get cold feet and have him replaced.

“Piece of cake, Holt.”

“Yeah…piece of cake.”

On the way over to the elementary school to pick up Megan, Holt chewed over his conversation with Lauren. Exhausted, all he wanted to do was go home tonight, lay down on the couch and sleep. Did he dare? Would the nightmare stalk him if he took an evening nap? If it did, Megan would want to know what was going on. She had been with him once before when it happened, and would quickly put the pieces together. And then, he’d have to explain. Sighing heavily, Holt swung the Corvette into the parking lot, spotting Megan.

His spirits lifted unaccountably. She wore a pretty pink cotton skirt, a white silk blouse and a fuchsia scarf around her neck. To Sam, she looked more like a young college coed than a teacher. As always, her hair tumbled in abandon around her shoulders, and it triggered the need to run his fingers through that thick cascade. If only he could get past tonight. If only he could successfully fly the test, things would get on an even keel between them.

Holt made a promise to tell Megan the truth as soon as the flight was successful. He didn’t like withholding from her. Their relationship was based upon an honesty that was incredibly refreshing, and it drew them even closer to one another. He’d never experienced anything like it before, realizing it was Megan who had triggered the response in him because of her quest to find out who she really was—not what her parents had made her think or believe about herself.

Megan’s smile was radiant with welcome, and Holt felt some of the despair lift momentarily from around him. He opened the door and watched as she got into the Corvette. Leaning over, she surprised him with a warm kiss on the mouth.

“Mmmm,” Sam murmured. He gripped her shoulder and held her close to sample her smiling mouth one more time. Releasing her, he smiled and said, “Chocolate chip cookies?”

Laughing, Megan shut the door and donned the seat belt. “One of the kids brought in a plate of cookies. She gave me one.” Then she opened her purse and drew out a napkin with a cookie in it. “Here, I saved you one.”

Touched, Sam promptly put it into his mouth and savored the unexpected dessert. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and drove the car away from the curb.

“One isn’t going to ruin our dinner,” Megan continued, placing her briefcase on the floor next to her feet. Sliding her hand across his shoulders, she asked, “How did your day go?”

The cookie disappeared quickly. “No last-minute glitches. Lauren and I were over at the hangar today double-checking the canards that were put on the nose of the Eagle. It looks fine.” He prayed he sounded nonchalant, as if it were nothing.

“Well,” she said, settling back into the seat, “I’d like to do two things tonight. First, I think we should go visit Becky and Curt since they’ve settled into their new house in Lancaster. They only live across town, and we owe a housewarming visit.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I miss Curt at the office. Hell, I miss the whole family.” The only reason they hadn’t gotten together after the crash was Curt’s swift departure from the base, their move into civilian life and Sam’s own brutal schedule now that he was chief test pilot.

“I’ve already called Becky and asked her if we could just drop over for a minute.”

“And?”

“She can hardly wait to see us.”

Sam smiled. “So what’s the second part of your strategy, Ms. Roberts?”

“I’m planning a special dinner tonight for us.”

“Oh?”

“Sure. Why not? A precelebration for a successful and safe flight.”

Her care touched Sam deeply. “A kind of good luck charm for tomorrow morning, is that it?” he teased gently.

“You could say that. Every time my father flew a test flight, my mother went into hiding. I’m not going to do that, Sam Holt. Every time there’s a flight, we’ll have the works—candlelight, a wonderful dinner and dessert.”

“What kind of dessert?”

She grinned. “Anything you want, Holt. The sky’s the limit.”

He slid his hand into hers, relishing her softness, her thoughtfulness. “You’re my dessert.”

The last two weeks had been heaven in Holt’s opinion. Megan had moved into his house for all intents and purposes, although she still kept her apartment. Both of them had agreed that this was a “test run” of their relationship to see if they could live together. With the exception of him not going to bed until 3:00 a.m. every morning, the time with Megan had been utter bliss. Megan smiled. “Let’s go visit the Merrills.”

“Mommy, Mommy!” Patty shrieked, leaping up and down at the front screen door, “they’re here! Uncle Sammy and Ms. Roberts are here!”

Becky was sitting with Curt in the kitchen. Curt rose.

“Come on, let’s meet them,” he said, rising and fitting the crutches under each arm.

Smiling, Becky got up, slowly following him. Curt still had a limp from the crash, but it was getting less and less apparent with every day. As they walked through their newly purchased house, a far more beautiful one with much more room than the one they had rented on Sharon Drive, Becky sighed. Just seeing Curt in a civilian suit of clothes was like a dream. How many times had she pinched herself to see if it was really real: Curt was a civilian, no longer anchored to the whims and wiles of the military.

Becky lifted her hand as Sam and Megan entered the foyer, Patty shrieking with joy. Tears came to her eyes as they drew to a halt, watching their daughter open her arms to their best friend. Holt’s laughter was rolling as he lifted Patty into his arms, and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek followed by a huge bear hug with lots of growling, bearlike noises that made Patty squeal with delight.

“Ya’ll come in,” Becky greeted, pulling Megan forward. “I’ve got coffee on in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Becky,” Megan said, watching Sam tussle with Patty. He would be wonderful with children. The thought sent a flood of incredible warmth through her.

Curt shook hands with Sam. “Good to see you again. Come on in.”

Megan sat next to Sam at the kitchen table. The change in the household was startling to her. On base, the Merrills’ home had been in a constant state of disarray according to Sam. This home was immaculately clean. Becky served coffee to everyone and sat down at Megan’s elbow. She smiled at her daughter, who preferred Sam’s lap.

“Can I have some coffee, Uncle Sammy?”

Holt grinned. “Punkin, haven’t you heard?”

“What?”

“Coffee will stunt your growth.”

Patty made a face and looked over at Becky. “Mommy, is that why you’re short?”

Giggling, Becky nodded. “Yes, honey. Mama and Daddy let me start drinkin’ coffee when I was real young.”

Curt grinned. “It’s good to see you both. Sam, I’ll be coming over to consult with you across the table next week on the Agile Eagle follow-up. Congratulations on your promotion to chief test pilot.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Speaking of good news,” Becky said proudly, “I’ve got a lady therapist by the name of Molly Dodd, and she’s helpin’ all of us.”

Curt reached over, enclosing his wife’s small hand on the table. “Molly is a Jungian therapist who has an office over in Palmdale. We all go to see her once a week.”

“Obviously,” Megan said, “it’s helping all of you.”

“Lordy, she has to help me understand why I’m codependent, explain why Patty is angry, and help Curt with his nightmares after the crash.”

Soberly, Sam nodded. “Those nightmares will hang around for a while.” How well he knew. If only his would go away.

Curt stretched out, opening his arms as Patty climbed from Sam’s lap into his. “Maybe. I’ve been finding out that just talking about it has helped a lot, Sam.” He cast Becky a warm look filled with undisguised love and pride. “Molly’s retraining me to talk to Becky.”

Softly, Becky said, “I like talking to you, darlin’. I’ve always wanted to be there for you.”

“Pilots have a tendency to keep everything bottled up inside of them,” Megan added quietly. She saw them all nod in silent agreement.

Curt gave Sam a significant look. “Take it from me—talking helps.”

With a wink at Megan, Sam said, “I’m finding that out, buddy.”

“You don’t realize how nice it is to have your man talk about what’s troublin’ him. Why, we’re strong, aren’t we, Megan?”

“Women are stronger than men,” Megan agreed, giving Becky a warm look.