Buch lesen: «Doctor's Mile-High Fling»

CHAPTER ONE

A FINE line existed between taking a dare and actually going through with it.

Molly McKinna was about to cross that line. Belted in and ready to take off, she glanced out of the window at her partner in crime, who simply made a rolling motion with his hand: get on with it.

Easy for Doug to say. His clammy fingers weren’t the ones glued to the sides of the copilot seat of the small Cessna.

Flying. Why did it have to involve flying?

“Are you ready?” The flash of a hard dimple signaled the rescue pilot’s amusement, but he could laugh his head off for all she cared. As long as he brought her back from Dutch Harbor alive.

She agreed with Doug, really she did. She had to decide if she could hack the flight from Anchorage to the Aleutian islands before accepting the job. But why did she have to choose a location where the only mode of transportation involved whizzing across the ocean as if shot from a giant slingshot?

You’d think being born to a bush pilot would give her an innate love for flying. But since her father, a man with thirty years of experience, had died in a plane crash on this very same route while she’d been in medical school, she no longer had much confidence in the whole flying scene. In fact, she’d avoided it ever since.

And yet here she was. Desperation sometimes bred stupidity.

Realizing the man at the controls was awaiting her reply, she mumbled, “Do I look ready?”

Either he didn’t hear her, or figured that was as close to an affirmative answer as he was likely to get, because his mouth quirked once again before he revved the engines to a howling fury and raced toward the end of the tarmac.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God…

Then they were off the ground and climbing fast.

She only realized her eyes were screwed shut when her traveling companion’s deep voice broke through the whine of the engine. “You can let go now.”

Cracking open one eyelid, she glanced sideways and encountered the pilot’s strong tanned jaw, the lightest dusting of dark stubble making him look more human somehow. When she’d first arrived at the airport, he’d seemed a little annoyed at being recruited to fly her to check out the medical facilities on the islands. Moments later, she’d decided she’d either imagined his reaction or he hid his emotions all too well.

Even so, she couldn’t blame him for being irritated, since he’d wound up having to watch and wait while Doug had given her a pep talk about cars being more dangerous than planes. Not that his speech had helped calm her racing heart!

No way could she run now, though. She was strapped in and hanging high above the sea. And she still had the return trip to look forward to.

“So the flight takes three hours?” Molly forced her hands off the seat and into her lap, linking her fingers in what she hoped was a reasonable facsimile of casual indifference.

“Depending on weather conditions, yes.”

“And today’s conditions are…?”

“For this time of year?” He slid a sideway glance at her and raised his brows. “About normal.”

Normal.

Molly gave an inward eye roll. Well, that certainly gave her a lot to go on. Why did every pilot she’d ever met speak in that deep soothing baritone that only made her want to scramble for the nearest life vest? Did their final exam include an “octave” test or something? Were the pilots with high squeaky voices ejected in mid-flight?

Her teeth came down on her lip. Okay, the words ejected and mid-flight were officially banned from her vocabulary.

“I’m sorry about your father.” He looked straight ahead. “He was a good man.”

“You knew him?” That surprised her—enough to let her push aside some of her fear. She’d seen the hunky pilot around the hospital from time to time. She even knew his name was Blake Taylor, but her father had never mentioned him when he’d been alive.

Maybe someone had seen fit to enlighten him. The accident had happened four years ago, but the people in charge had laid the blame squarely in her dad’s lap. They felt he’d been reckless to attempt to fly during that storm. As did her mother. It infuriated her to no end. Most of her friends knew better than to bring up his name in her company. Then again, this man wasn’t a friend, neither was he likely to become one. And if he said one ugly word about her father, she was going to—

“Wayne helped train me. In my opinion.” His voice trailed off.

Molly’s backbone stiffened further. Was Blake aware of the circumstances of the accident?

A hand came off the yoke—how had she even remembered that word?—and touched her arm. “I think he made the right call to fly that day, for the record.”

“Y-you do?” It was chilly inside the cockpit, and the heater struggled to keep up, kicking out a lukewarm stream of air. But the touch of the pilot’s hand heated her instantly. “That’s not the prevailing opinion, from what I’ve heard.”

Not even her mother had cut her dad any slack, nagging him relentlessly to give up flying—to get a job closer to home. Her bitterness at his refusal had aged her, tilting her mouth permanently down at the corners. Once Molly had returned from medical school, her mom had focused that vast reservoir of neediness on her only daughter, urging her to live at home. Between her mother and her ex-boyfriend, those two years in Anchorage had sucked the life from her, left her feeling suffocated and alone.

Then a job had opened up in the Aleutians, and she’d leapt at it, flying or no flying. Her mother’s reaction to the news still rang in her ears: Go on and get yourself killed. Leave me all alone. You’re just like your father!

Was she?

Heavens, she hoped so. Maybe that was another reason she’d needed this job so very badly. It was not only a means of escape but a way to hang on to a little piece of her father.

She glanced out the window. The more altitude they gained, though, the more she rued her decision as an impulsive lapse in judgment. But the alternative was untenable. Staying at the hospital had been awkward at best, disastrous at worst. Besides, her father had loved his job, had said he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Maybe she just needed to make peace with that—to try to understand what had motivated him to keep making these trips.

Blake smiled at her, breaking into her thoughts. “Don’t listen to them. They’re all too happy to shift the blame to someone other than themselves.”

She had to blink a few times to realize he wasn’t talking about her mother but about those who blamed her father for the accident. “So not everyone thought my father was at fault?”

“Ask a few of the local pilots. I think you’ll be surprised at their answers.” He paused. “The weather over the islands can be unpredictable even during the summer. One minute it’s clear blue skies, and the next…”

“So why do it?” Maybe she should be asking herself that very same question. “Surely you could have been an EMT or chosen something safer than this? Alaska Regional could always use a few more paramedics.”

And not one of the single nurses—or any of the married ones, for that matter—would complain if he hung around the hospital a little more. Blake was something of a legend around that place. But from the whispered comments she’d overheard, none of the women in question had managed to worm their way past that charming smile and into his bed.

He shrugged. “As a kid, I loved watching old videos of Evel Knievel. Since I can’t rocket across Snake River Canyon, I figure I can fly from Anchorage to Dutch Harbor. All I lack is the cool jumpsuit.”

“Evel Knievel never successfully jumped that river.”

“But he tried.”

Molly shuddered. She hoped he wasn’t drawing an analogy between the famous daredevil’s doomed flight and the one she was now on. Did she really want to work with a man who seemed to be hooked on adrenaline? She didn’t have a choice, since he was considered the best of the best now that her father was gone. Accepting this position meant she’d fly with him from time to time as they medevaced patients from the islands to the hospital in Anchorage.

If she took the job.

Nothing was set in stone. In fact, she couldn’t risk jeopardizing the project, if she couldn’t get past her fear. She’d have to let someone else take her place. Except none of the other doctors had stepped up and volunteered—they all had families, and no one was anxious to leave a thriving hospital to work in a government-funded clinic.

And part of her father’s heart was still on those islands. A part she wanted desperately to understand.

She blinked, realizing the stabbing terror that had frozen her on takeoff was trickling away. She was still afraid, but the more Blake talked the more her nerves settled.

It had to be his voice. Maybe flight instructors gave lessons in hypnotism as well as voice modulation.

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you seriously thinking about taking the position? Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but you don’t seem to be in love with the idea of flying.”

Was that his way of calling her chicken? The urge to flap her wings and cluck had only happened once so far, during takeoff. “Maybe I need to understand why my dad traveled back and forth between the mainland and the islands. To make peace with where his journey led him.”

No need to tell him she was a coward in more ways than one. That sometimes it was easier to run than to stand your ground and fight.

He was silent for a minute, before he answered softly. “You can’t always make peace with it. Sometimes all you can do is accept what life dishes up and then move past it.”

Or you could always fly away from it as fast as you could.

The plane dipped for a second and so did Molly’s heart. “What was that?”

“Just a pothole.”

“Sorry?” The fear was back, stronger than ever. She licked her lips, trying not to focus on the vibrations of the plane around her but noticing every tiny shiver just the same.

“Turbulence. It’s like bumps in a road. You wouldn’t expect to have glassy-smooth highways forever, would you?”

“No, of course not.” She relaxed her grip on the shoulder harness.

He was right. It was just a pothole. Not even a very big one.

Somehow thinking of it like that made it easier. “My mom hated flying. She never went to the islands with my dad, no matter how many times he asked her to. Not even to take a vacation. She wouldn’t let me go either. And after his plane went down, she became even more…” Demanding? What exactly was she planning to say? “I just don’t want to be like that, you know?”

“Understandable. But if your mom didn’t let you fly with him, then when did you…?” He frowned. “This isn’t your first time up, is it?”

“No!” She bit her lip. “Well, not exactly. I mean, I’ve been on a plane before.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, the dark silky locks falling neatly back into place. “Really? When was the last time you were on one?”

“A few weeks ago.” She tossed her head as if it had been nothing special.

He seemed to relax in his seat. “Where’d you go?”

“Go?”

“On your flight.”

“We, uh, didn’t exactly go anywhere.” The mumbled words sounded weird even to her.

“I don’t follow.”

She hesitated. If she didn’t tell him, he’d just ask Doug why she’d acted so whacked out during the flight once they got back to Anchorage. “The plane was part of a desensitization course.”

Something she’d needed to make sure she could survive this trip.

“A what?” His head jerked to stare at her. “You mean you’ve never flown before in your life?”

Indignation washed over her. She had, but why should it matter? It was ridiculous to expect everyone to have flown all over the world from the time they could crawl. “I have flown. Just not recently. I—I couldn’t.”

Not since her father’s accident.

“Oh, hell.”

She shifted in her seat to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you’re looking for a pilot to help you get past your fear, you’d better keep looking. A desensitization expert I’m not.” He laughed and the sound was no longer low and mellow. “I know of at least one person who’d testify to that fact. Only she’s no longer speaking to me.”

The anger behind that last comment made her hackles rise. Had he purposely scared someone during a flight? If so, he was right. She didn’t want him flying her anywhere. “Fine. Once we get back to Anchorage, I’ll make sure you never have to—”

“Wrong. Those ‘bumps in the road’ I mentioned? They’re going to get worse the closer we get to the islands. And the landing strip at Dutch Harbor is barely up to FAA standards.” He glanced up as if sending a distress call to some higher power. “Listen, I signed on to take a doctor to Unalaska to scope out the work at the clinic. I’m not here to be the next rung on your twelve-step ladder. If you expect me to sweet-talk you into getting back on the plane tomorrow, you’re out of luck.”

Her chin went up. “I guarantee that’s not going to happen.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” His dark eyes swept over her face and the expression in them chilled her to the bone. “If you’re not on the plane, strapped into your seat, by eight o’clock in the morning, you can find yourself a new pilot.”

* * *

Okay, so he could have handled that better. A lot better.

But from the moment Blake had noticed her clutching her seat, a warning siren had gone off in his brain. He’d quickly dismissed it, chalking up her reaction to takeoff jitters. A lot of people got nervous, especially on flights to the Aleutians, where landings could be very hairy. Transitioning from a jet engine to a turboprop seven years ago had given him a few gray hairs of his own, so who could blame her?

Besides, her dad—a man Blake had looked up to and respected—was famous in these parts, so he’d had some ridiculous notion that Wayne McKinna’s daughter would have logged some serious flight hours. Her physical appearance had only added to that impression. Brown, choppy locks were cut in a way that gave her delicate face a fearless impudent look. And the bold, take-charge style drew immediate attention to her eyes. Green. Intelligent. Framed by incredibly thick lashes.

She looked ready to take on any challenge that came her way.

Desensitization classes. Great.

What the hell was she doing, taking a job that involved medevacing patients to Anchorage?

Even Sharon hadn’t been that afraid of flying. And yet her constant nagging to move back to the mainland and to switch to flying passenger jets had proved to be the final straw in an already disintegrating marriage. Wayne had understood exactly where he was coming from, said he’d fought the same battles with his own wife.

Blake loved the island where he’d grown up. Loved the challenge of landing on that tiny airstrip in Dutch Harbor.

Sharon hated both.

After the divorce, he’d decided no one would take those things away from him. Not again.

He glanced over at Molly. She was furiously staring out the front window, her arms folded across her chest, her full bottom lip thinned.

You can find yourself a new pilot.

The fact that she’d answered his outrageous declaration with silence told him everything he needed to know.

He’d blown whatever chance he might have had with her.

If he’d even had one. The woman probably had men doing penance laps until their knees bled, hoping for a chance to go out with her.

He’d noticed Molly bustling around the ER over the past year as he’d checked on some critical-care patients he’d flown in from the islands. Her cheery attitude and gorgeous smile had attracted his attention immediately. When someone had told him she was the daughter of the late, great Wayne McKinna, what had started as a tiny spark of attraction had caught and held. She’d been away at medical school when her father had shown him the ropes, so they’d never been officially introduced. By the time he’d realized who she was, she was already spoken for. Besides, he was from the islands, and Molly appeared to be very much a city girl at heart.

As he’d found out the hard way, oil and water might flirt with each other for a while, but they eventually separated.

He should have reminded himself of that fact and kept his distance.

Then she’d broken off her relationship and signed up for the new health-care position the government had opened up in the Aleutians. The temptation had been too much. He’d juggled his schedule so he’d be the one flying her to the islands. Hoping he was wrong and that they might not be so different after all. Surely Wayne’s daughter had vestigial wings hidden somewhere under that lab coat—the love of flying must be bred into her.

Wrong.

His jaw tightened. When would he learn? He should swear off marriage forever.

But he eventually wanted a wife. A family. Just not with someone who wanted to crush who he was and remake him into someone completely different.

That need went both ways, however. If he expected a woman to love him as he was, she had a right to expect the same.

Could he love a woman who was afraid of flying, who might end up hating the islands as much as his ex-wife?

Not a chance—he’d already tested that theory once. But that didn’t mean he had to be an ass about it.

“Hey, listen. About what I said—”

“Don’t worry. As soon as we land, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Let me hook you up with someone I know who can fly you back. He’s totally safe. Doesn’t take any unnecessary chances.”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

She might be all grown up, but the quiet joy that had caught his attention at the hospital was gone.

Reaching over, he touched her hand, marveling at the softness of her skin. “Molly, we haven’t got off to the best start here.”

“You think?”

“I just didn’t expect Wayne’s daughter to be…”

Was there any good way to finish that phrase? He didn’t think so.

“You didn’t expect her to be what? A wimp?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Well, not those exact words, but the meaning was still there. “Knowing how your father died, it can’t be easy for you to get back on a plane.”

“Good thing you won’t have to deal with that problem any more, then, isn’t it?”

He waited for her to finish chopping him to bits, but Molly was evidently done, and rightly so.

Before he could figure out a way to smooth over the situation, the plane bucked, then settled back into place. He glanced out the cockpit window, realizing their heated words had diverted his attention for the past several minutes. Not good, because they were heading right into a long line of clouds stretching from side to side.

A front.

And an ugly one, from the look of it.

Molly threw him a panicked look, and Blake tensed.

There’d been nothing in the weather reports to indicate rough conditions today. But he knew things could blow up out of nowhere in this part of the world. This wasn’t exactly the way he’d hoped the day would go.

But then again, when did his plans ever fall smoothly into place?

“Make sure your harness is tight.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

“See those clouds?”

“Yes.”

“The little bumps in the road we’ve experienced are nothing compared to what’s coming up.” He glanced at her, adrenaline already beginning to spike through his system. “It looks like our smooth highway is about to turn into one oversize construction zone.”