Dates And Other Nuts (18 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

BOOK: Dates And Other Nuts
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Stepping into the tower, Craig joined the men gathered around the console. He could hear a voice coming over the speakerphone. Outside the glass tower the clear cool night mocked him.
One of the senior officers turned. “Stevens. What are you doing here?”
Pilots weren't supposed to be in the tower, but this, he knew, would be an exception. It didn't hurt that Craig was considered a top-notch pilot and might be able to lend some experience to the situation.
“Are you in contact with the plane?” he asked.
“Yeah,” the man said. “We've got Temple on the phone.”
Craig leaned over the speaker.
“Temple?”
“Craig? Oh, I'm so glad you're there.”
Craig sat down, blocking out his surroundings. All that he was conscious of was the fear in Temple's voice.
“What's going on, sweetheart?”
“It's not good.”
“How are you doing?”
“About... about as well as a turkey the day before Thanksgiving.”
He smiled slightly, reading the attempt to keep him from hearing the stress in her voice.
“We're monitoring things here,” he told her. “Who's the pilot?”
“Dave DeCosta.”
“How many on board, Temple?”
“Sixty-four passengers, four crew.”
Her voice sounded small, unsure. Frightened. He'd never heard that in her before.
“You're in good hands,” he said reassuringly. “Dave knows his way around a plane.” Craig glanced up at the strained faces circling him. “Are you really all right?”
“A little nervous, uh, we're in a holding pattern at...eight thousand feet.”
The air controller closest to Craig leaned in and spoke directly into his ear so Temple wouldn't hear. “Wind gusts to fifty miles per hour, ground temperature thirty-two degrees and falling. Rain turning to freezing rain, blowing almost horizontally. If he'd been a half hour earlier, they'd have made it easy. The front moved in faster than the tower anticipated, hanging up several flights. Air-traffic control in Chicago is trying to get them down in order. The ATR's last in line.”
A list of the recent spate of accidents involving the commuter during bad weather flashed through Craig's mind. Perfectly safe, except in extreme conditions. And these conditions were extreme.
“What's O'Hare saying?”
“They've got their hands full,” the official said. “It's a real bitch. An inch of ice and more falling. The crew's trying to clear a couple of runways, but they're not making much headway. The runways ice over almost as fast as they can clear. They need a break real bad.”
“Craig?”
The quaver in Temple's voice told Craig how scared she was. The others glanced at one another, indicating they'd heard it, too. The chief ran a hand down his face in frustration and concern.
“I'm here,” Craig told her.
“I'm glad. But you always have been,” she said, her voice higher and lighter than normal. “I guess...I guess I've abused that, in a way. I'm sorry. About everything. I just...I just didn't want to lose—Can you forgive me?”
“Temple, honey...we'll talk later.”
“Craig?”
“Yeah.” He hated hearing the fear in her voice, hated not being able to talk to her alone, to tell her everything would be all right and make her believe it.
“If...if we don't get a chance to talk—”
“Temple, get hold of yourself—”
Her words came in a rush. “But if we don't, I have to say this. I've been doing a lot of thinking. About...about us. About what happened...that night. I'm glad it happened. I might never have known—I've been an idiot, Craig. Up here, well, I can see everything clearly now.”
“Temple—” He turned his back to the others and lowered his voice. In a calm voice, he said, “This isn't the way it's supposed to be. There should be candles, low lights, wine, you in my arms, not you in some damned machine eight thousand feet aboveground and me here. When you get down, we'll talk about this—”
Temple didn't seem to hear him. “I talked to Grams about us. I told her I was worried. She's a smart lady. She told me that things now aren't so different than when she was young. She made me realize that what I...what I feel for you isn't wrong. It's right. Very right. I just wasn't sure what it was. And I wasn't sure how you felt—I know we agreed not to talk about it—”
Suddenly reminded that they were on a speakerphone, Craig looked up into the face of one of the women air-traffic controllers. Accusation was clear in her dark eyes. She obviously thought he was the biggest jerk of all time. He wasn't sure he disagreed.
The men were studying him with speculation.
“Temple—”
“No, don't stop me. I want to say this. I've got to say it, in case—I want you to know... I've known for weeks. I just couldn't admit it to myself. You know, the antipilotrelationship thing, and Nancy. Well, I know they were just excuses because I was scared. But I...I can't leave without saying it—”
“You're not ‘leaving.' Where's your training?”
“Training? I forgot every word of it about thirty minutes ago.”
He closed his eyes, aching to hold her. Aching to tell her he felt the same.
“I love you, Craig. I have for a long time—” Her voice broke and his hands clenched. “I was just too... blind to recognize it.”
“Temple—”
A sniff drew his attention to the group crowding close. The air-traffic controller who'd glared at him so accusingly now had tears in her eyes. She stood with one hand covering her mouth.
Scotty stood nearby, listening soberly, his gaze locking with Craig's when he looked up.
“Don't stop me,” Temple continued. “I want you to know that I love you. And that night in Houston? I wasn't asleep. I knew you were making love to me. I deliberately led you on... because I had to know—
“I've fallen in love with you, and it scares me,” she said in a rush of words. “We were so close and I was so afraid things would change. I...I didn't—” A sob broke her voice. “I didn't want to lose what we had by taking a chance on more. And it has changed things, hasn't it? It's changed everything. Nothing's been the same between us since—”
“Temple, we'll talk about this later—”
“No! I don't have any more time to waste. I've wasted too much already. I knew your every thought, the things you like, the things you don't like. We could always talk about anything. I guess that's what makes our relationship so special. So special I didn't want to lose it.” She managed a little laugh. “Well, we know each other a lot better now, don't we? I just...I just wanted to know what... what being in love was like. And now I know. At least, I know what it's like to fall in love with you.” She was quiet for a moment. “It's beautiful,” she whispered. “The most perfect thing anyone could ever experience. It's like...being reborn. Everything looks different, tastes different. I...I always looked forward to seeing you every day. But now...now it's as if I can't breathe until I see you...”
She let the words drift away.
“Temple?” Craig sat up straighter. “What is it?”
He glanced up at the controllers. One was on the phone and caught his gaze and held it.
“They're going to try it,” the controller said softly. “The other planes are down. One skidded off the runway and there are some injuries but it looks like everything is okay. The plows are out clearing a second runway. They're going to try putting Dave down on it. It's the only chance they've got.”
“How's the wind?”
“Velocity down a bit, rain has abated a little.”
Not much of a change, but it was all they had.
“Oh. Okay.” Her voice came back to him over the line. “Craig, Dave's been cleared to land.”
“Temple—”
Drawing a deep breath, she whispered, “I have to hang up now. Goodbye—I love you.”
Then the connection was broken.
Craig sank into a chair, staring at the speakerphone, his eyes stinging.
Dammit! He hadn't told her he loved her.
14
“L
ADIES AND GENTLEMEN, the captain has been cleared to land. Please check your seat belts and assume the crash position. Place pillows in your lap, lean forward so your head is between your knees, lock your hands behind your head...” And pray, Temple added silently.
Temple glanced at Sarah, the other flight attendant. Her fear was mirrored in Sarah's eyes.
“You will feel a bump when we set down on the runway,” she told the passengers. “Please remain in your seats until the aircraft stops moving. Every precaution has been taken for a safe landing. When I give the world, please move quickly toward exits. Parents, keep children close in front of you and hold on to them at all times. Chutes will be deployed for exits. Sarah and I will assist you onto the slide, and emergency personnel will be waiting to catch you at the bottom. Are there any questions?”
The only sound in the cabin was the engines laboring and a child whimpering.
Temple had been flying for years and this was her first emergency. She knew pilots who'd flown all their lives and never encountered trouble.
She had known some who hadn't survived.
When Dave had summoned her to the cockpit, she'd thought he wanted coffee. She'd hardly been able to comprehend the conditions he'd outlined in a tense voice. The weather had changed so swiftly everyone had been caught by surprise. Any doubts she might have had about the seriousness of the situation had been erased by the sight of the tension in the pilot's face.
Temple opened the cockpit door. “Dave, we're ready back here.”
Dave nodded. “It's going to get rough.”
She nodded.
Closing the door, she buckled herself into her seat, giving the passenger in 1-A a reassuring smile.
I love you, Craig. I wish we'd had more time...
Leaning forward, Temple put her head between her knees and linked her hands behind her head...and prayed.
Her ears roared as they descended and she tried not to think of the ice on the plane, nor the condition of the runway.
The plane hit the runway hard, bounced twice, the engine reversed and she heard the flaps shift. One more bounce and the plane skidded. They were going sideways down the runway; the plane turned and kept going with the brakes screaming. The skid seemed to go on forever. There was a bump, a lurch, another skid and then stillness.
A deathly silence filled the small cabin. Temple's head pounded as she clamped her eyes closed. She could hear her own heartbeat.
She waited a count of five, then unbuckled her seat belt and jumped up.
“Push those doors open!” she shouted to the men assigned to the exit doors. “Unbuckle, up-up-up!”
Women with small children were first out the doors and sliding down the escape chutes. Icy rain was falling, coating everything it touched. The red and blue lights of emergency vehicles and airport personnel flashed across the tarmac and the crackle of radios in the background mingled with shouts of frenzied directions.
As soon as passengers reached the end of the chute, someone pulled them to their feet and ushered them toward a warm airport van.
The last passenger hit the chute. Temple pushed Sarah in front of her, then followed.
Someone grabbed her arm as she hit the tarmac, and ushered her toward a waiting van. Pilot and copilot joined her and Sarah a moment later.
Grasping Dave DeCosta's hand, Temple whispered, “Thank you—every passenger aboard that plane owes you his life.”
Dave squeezed her hand reassuringly, his face still showing the strain of the past twenty minutes.
As the van drove toward the terminal, Temple turned to look back at the plane.
The ATR was coated in ice. Instead of sitting on the landing wheels, it lay flat on the runway, skewed sideways and tilted like a broken toy.
“That was too close for comfort,” Dave admitted, following her gaze.
They were taken to a room inside the terminal where coffee, hot chocolate, tea and food were waiting. Phones were available so passengers could call family members while luggage was unloaded and the plane secured.
Hours later, the crew finished being debriefed. Temple was called to the phone twice, first to assure Craig she was down safely, and second, to convince Craig she really was down safely.
It was past midnight when an airport shuttle delivered Temple to a hotel. Too weary to shower, and with no clean clothes to change into anyway, she stripped off her uniform and crawled into bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep. Only her wake-up call the next morning jarred her from slumber.
“Good morning. Any aftereffects?” Dave asked when he called to check on her.
“None, how about you?”
“Fine shape. Our flight back to Dallas leaves in an hour.”
They got on the plane as passengers this time. Temple sat looking out the window as this morning's travelers boarded. The sun was shining, and while buildings were still iceencrusted, the melting was already under way. The runways were clear, with little spirals of steam rising upward as the sun reflected off the concrete. How strange it all seemed. Last night had been so frightening, proving how quickly everything could change.
The storm—one that could not have been anticipated—had changed her life. At least she still had a life. This morning, Sparrow had announced all ATRs were grounded during inclement weather until further notice.
Dave DeCosta was due a commendation for getting the plane down without injury. There had been some bumps and scrapes as passengers exited the chutes, but nothing serious.
Temple's stomach tied in a painful knot as the plane left the ground. The butterflies calmed down as the aircraft leveled out.
In a short while, she would be back in Dallas. On one hand she could hardly wait to get there, on the other, there was Craig to face. And the tower personnel who'd listened to her blubbering over the speakerphone. Spilling every little secret, every titillating detail.
What had she been thinking? How would she ever face Craig? She'd made such a fool of herself. Blurting out everything that had happened that night in Houston. Events she'd been trying to come to terms with for weeks. What was she going to do with them now that she'd told the world her innermost secrets.
So, her personal life was in a shambles, the pieces of it laid out for everyone to see—friends, co-workers, Craig.
Not only that, but her professional life was a shambles, too. She'd never been in a close call before. Her confidence was badly shaken. She'd known that accidents were always a possibility, but accidents happened to others, not to her. Was she capable of continuing her job?
Troubled thoughts occupied her mind during the flight. She was aware of their descent into Dallas only when the flight attendant picked up the microphone—
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for flying Sparrow Airlines. Please replace your tables and return your seat backs to their full upright and least comfortable position —”
Ten minutes. Ten minutes and you'll walk into a terminal where everyone will know that you're in love with Craig. No more pretending he's just a friend. Just a friend. How phony that sounded. No wonder Ginny and Flo never believed you when you insisted that's all there was. It was clear to them how you felt.
She waited to be the last person off the plane, hoping to get into the terminal before anyone saw her. But it wasn't to be.
“Temple! Temple!” Ginny was jumping up and down, waving to her from the front of a crowd of airport personnel awaiting the arrival of the stressed crew.
Hesitating, Temple wrestled with the idea of running, of taking off in the opposite direction as hard as she could walk.
Instead, she calmly walked toward Ginny, smiling. When the usually caustic waitress grabbed her and hugged her around the neck tightly, she closed her eyes against tears and hugged her back.
“We were so scared,” Ginny said.
“Not half as scared as me,” Temple said, trying to laugh.
Her gaze swept over the crowd. Craig was conspicuously absent. She'd spilled her guts, and clearly he hadn't wanted to hear it.
“We waited here last night until Chicago told us you were down and okay,” Ginny told her. “I was awake all night. I wanted to call, but I knew you'd be too busy to talk.”
“I was. Now I'm drained. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
Others reached out to touch her, squeeze her arm, take her hand, call out her name. She was surprised and gratified by their warm reception. These really were such great people.
Her co-workers eventually dispersed, returning to their posts, and she continued through the terminal alone. Ginny waved to her again from behind the lunch counter and Flo gave her a high sign from the car rental booth. Her hand was on the handle of the glass doors leading to the parking lot before she saw him.
Craig was leaning against his car, dressed in faded and worn jeans that fit him like a glove, and a pale blue shirt, Collar open, sleeves causally rolled up, he reminded Temple of a nineties cover model. She'd never seen him look so good.
He waited, his gaze challenging her. Finally, she pushed through the doorway.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
She stood, bag in hand, wondering what to say. He had called twice to see how she was last night. Why hadn't he called three times?
“Yes.”
She glanced up. “Yes?”
“Yes, I feel the same way about you.”
“Oh.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Craig... about last night—”
“Get in,” he said, motioning to the passenger side of the Lincoln.
“My truck-”
“I said, get in.”
She slid into the car and waited for him to walk around to the driver's side, get in and pull out of the parking lot. Holding her breath, she was surprised when he didn't say anything.
Resting her head against the back of the seat, she looked out the window, watching passing street signs as he drove toward her apartment.
“I had to bail out once,” he said, breaking the silence. “At the time, it was such a rush of adrenaline I couldn't unwind for days. When I was back on the ground, I slept—for two days.”
She smiled softly. Yeah, he'd know how she felt. But then, he always did.
Temple couldn't look at him. It was coming now. How foolish she'd been, how indiscreet.
“You scared me, you know.”
“I scared myself. I don't know if—if I can go back, Craig.”
His gaze remained on the highway, his hands moving easily on the steering wheel. “I've been offered a job down in the Keys flying private charters.”
“Oh?” Her heart raced. Had she scared him off with her public admission? Fool! You knew better! Now look what you've done!
She made her tone sound casual. “Thinking about taking it?”
“It's damn good money...yeah, I think I am considering it.”
Mortified with herself, she felt tears spring to her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty about leaving. Why shouldn't he take the job? More money, Florida. Sunshine, balmy breezes, beautiful women in string bikinis....
She turned her face to the window, trying to stem the tide of tears suddenly rolling down her cheeks.
Reaching over, he pulled her next to him, leaving his arm around her shoulders.
“That's better,” he said.
She sighed, and rested her head against his shoulder, her hand lying on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. This felt so good, so natural. How would she live without him? Florida wasn't the end of the earth, but they both had their jobs, responsibilities that would keep them apart.
“Craig, I'm sorry about last night. I should have realized I was making a fool of myself, but I thought I was going to die without having ever told you—”
His kiss interrupted her apology. The car swerved into the center lane, and he brought it quickly back into line. Thoughts of Susan haunted him.
“Let's discuss this when we get you home.”
“I need to talk to Grams,” she managed to say, her head spinning.
She spent the rest of the ride napping on Craig's shoulder.
Craig pulled the Lincoln into her parking space. As he got out, he waved to Roberta King, who was down on her knees, pruning rosebushes.
Coming around to the passenger side of the car, he opened the door for Temple. “Come on, sleepyhead. You can make me breakfast.”
Now it's coming, she thought. He'll wait until we're in my apartment, and then he'll let me have it. The kiss was just to keep her from making a bigger fool of herself. He'd insist they were right to remain friends. He'd go to the Keys, she'd stay in Dallas. She didn't know if she could do that.

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