On Wings of Love (13 page)

Her laughter died. “I don’t think so. Flying is one thing.
Turning this baby upside down so that nothing but a thin piece of metal is all that stands between my head and the ground is another.”

The moment she turned and looked at his expression she realized he hadn’t been serious. What a relief. Until another daunting idea surfaced and caused her stomach to do a somersault instead. “Please tell me you’re not going to make me land this thing.”

“No. I’ll save that for the next lesson.” Noah flipped the autopilot back on and reached for his controls. He pushed down to ready for landing, and the plane started to descend. Too bad her stomach decided to stay at the original altitude. Her fingers flew to her midsection in an attempt to bring her innards back in line.

“You really did a great job. Let me know when you want to try again.”

Ruth nodded. Noah had taken her fears seriously and helped her face them straight on. She didn’t know many men who would do that, much less someone who didn’t have some sort of agenda. “I will. Thanks.”

Settling back in her seat, she savored the feeling of conquering her fears as the plane continued its descent. From what she could tell from all the dials and screens was that they were at about eight thousand feet and dropping quickly. Her gaze transfixed on the radar, but with a giddy sense of happiness, she realized she had no idea what it represented.

“What does that do?” She pointed to the screen just to the left of Noah.

“That shows rain. As you can see, it’s another beautiful day in Scottsdale.”

“Gotta love it.” As Noah prepared to land, Ruth closed her eyes. Flying wasn’t so bad. The heady sense of accom
plishment lulled her into a semi-comatose state as another smile drifted to her lips. The man she loved was something else.

At five thousand feet and ten miles out from the Scottsdale Airport, Noah caught a flash of sunlight bouncing off glass and white metal against the blue sky outside the cockpit window. He twisted his neck to the left. His stomach lurched and he inhaled sharply. A high performance sailplane. In the same air space and on a collision course. “Hang on.”

Seconds too late, he yanked back on the yoke. The tip of the King Air rose a fraction before the impact. A loud thud shocked his ears, and an intense shudder ripped through the plane. Noah’s guttural cry was sucked out of the cockpit through the gaping hole to the left of his seat.

“What happened?” The tightness in Ruth’s voice intensified his apprehension. Muscles bunched in his neck and shoulders as he fought to keep them airborne and from rolling over.

“A sailplane just hit us.” Turbulence rattled the plane and the teeth inside his mouth. All the training and simulations didn’t prepare him for the reality of a real in-flight emergency. The hole beside his left leg mocked his attempt to remain calm and focused.

“How did that happen? Why didn’t you see it with the radar or something?” Ruth’s terrified whisper grabbed his heart and yanked it outside his chest. Her hands clenched in a death grip.

“I saw it at the last minute and my avoidance system only shows planes with transponders. Sailplanes don’t typically have them. Getting a visual on it any earlier than I did would have been like finding a needle in a haystack.”
His voice seeped out like a leaking balloon. He radioed a distress call and forced himself to stay calm. He couldn’t focus on the other pilot; he had enough to worry about. Like keeping the woman he loved safe.

His grip tightened on the yoke. He’d lost all his electronics. The only thing he could do now was manually keep the nose up, head the plane in the direction of the Scottsdale Airport and say a prayer.

Except he still didn’t pray. He figured now probably wasn’t the time to start. No. Praying was left to those who completely believed and obeyed God’s word. They didn’t question His motives or actions, or turn away from Him.

“You’d better start praying, Ruth. One of us needs to, and I can’t do it.” Noah’s voice seeped though clenched teeth and enunciated each syllable.

A shattered gasp erupted from the other side of the cockpit. Noah didn’t pull his gaze from the scene beyond the window. He had a visual on the airport now, the office buildings and businesses surrounding it and the commuter traffic snaking along Frank Lloyd Wright Boulevard. If he didn’t make it to the airport in less than two minutes, they’d be dead.

Tension tore at Noah’s nerves and bile scraped the back of his throat. He had no room to turn around, no room to make a judgment in error. Nowhere to go.

He dared to glance at Ruth, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time. Her bloodless face and trembling lips ripped at his fragile emotions. He would keep her safe, even if it killed him.

“Why won’t you pray with me?” she whispered. “There’s power in numbers.”

“I can’t.” He looked out the front window again. A band of sweat broke out on his forehead and underneath
his arms. But was it because of the imminent emergency landing, or the words Ruth wanted him to say? He might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t a hypocrite. Why would God listen to him anyway? He hadn’t before when Noah had cried out to Him to save Jeremy’s life.

Yet maybe. Just maybe…“I don’t know what to say.”

The plane lost more altitude. A band of sweat gathered on his brow, and he struggled to keep the plane upright.

“It’s like riding a bike. You remember how to do that, don’t you?”

A heaviness permeated the cabin as the airport loomed in front of them. Funny time for Ruth to twist his words around.

“Yes. But I may be a little rusty.” He hadn’t ridden a bike or said a prayer since he’d left Michelle’s and Jeremy’s bodies at the hospital.

“Then just say what’s in your heart.”

Right. As if it was that easy.

“I don’t think the Lord wants to hear my fear. Just say something. Anything,” Noah ground out. The plane was losing speed now, and he doubted they’d make the runway. He heard the engines sputter.

An old proverb surfaced in his mind: The Lord will hear when I call to Him.

Could Noah take the chance? Would God listen this time?

His mouth opened but nothing tumbled out.

Fortunately, Ruth had enough panicked words for both of them. “Dear God. Help us land safely. Keep us in Your loving hands. Especially Noah. Your will be done. Amen.”

“Amen.” The word slipped out and temporarily calmed him.

The plane slowed even more and began to vibrate. They
dropped more altitude. The McDowell Mountains loomed like a sleeping dragon to his left. The Scottsdale Princess Resort, golf course and housing community were a distant memory behind them. The light gray strip of runway hovered like a beacon on a dark night.

“Why aren’t you putting down the landing gear?” Ruth’s strangled cry cast goose bumps across his skin.

“Too risky. It’ll create a drag. We’re unstable enough as it is.” He strangled the shuddering yoke as if he could keep the plane up by sheer will. In a few seconds he’d know if he was successful or not.

Noah eased up to level the plane. They’d cleared the buildings. They had barely enough altitude to avoid the street. The engine sputtered again, and he almost took out the light pole. Then nothing but a fence and runway now.

Perspiration stung his eyes, but they cleared the fence. The clear, wide expanse of concrete spread out before him.

“Brace yourself. Three, two, one.”

With a loud, hard thud, the belly of the plane connected with ground. The impact jarred every cell in his body.

Metal chafed the cement.

The yoke vibrated violently beneath his palms, while Ruth’s terrified screams filled his ears. His own sounds joined with hers and competed with the interior noise of plane as it careened down the runway.

Without landing gear in place, Noah had no brakes.

He had no steering.

He had no control.

The King Air shuddered and scraped along the strip of cement, the noise almost tearing his eardrums apart. Seconds stretched into eternity, yet collapsed in upon themselves.

Fence. Buildings. Other planes whirled by the window in a kaleidoscope of objects.

Then the plane slid sideways. More adrenaline raced in his veins as he fought to control the spin. Useless. Nausea won the battle in his stomach. His shoulder slammed into the side of the plane, and pain radiated through his being.

Dirt and dust blinded the outside view as the aircraft’s momentum continued to spin in circles. Clutching his bad arm, Noah bowed his head and braced himself for a collision.

After a seemingly nonending, teeth shattering, mind-numbing moment, the plane shuddered to a halt. The chink of metal reverberated through the interior. He stared at the brown dirt through the hole by his foot and expelled his breath before lifting his gaze to look through the broken window. The plane had tangled in the chain link fence at the end of the runway. Dead silence hovered inside the cockpit.

They’d survived the landing, but they weren’t safe yet.

“Ruth?”

No answer. Fear clutched him in its grip again. Smoke and dust burned his eyes. His gaze slid past Ruth as he swiveled around and saw flames licking at the rear of the plane. His heartbeat accelerated but not because of the fire. “Ruth.”

Unconsciousness had claimed her and blood trickled down her cheek from the gash in her forehead. A piece of the metal railing speared through the cockpit and rested against her chest. Anger curled in his gut. He hadn’t kept her safe as he’d promised.

W
hy, Lord. Why?

No answer, but what had he really expected? Still, he found himself reaching out.
Please Lord, let Ruth be okay. I love her.

More adrenaline kicked in. With determined fingers, Noah unbuckled his seat belt, yanked off his headset and threw it to the ground. Then he unbuckled Ruth. A cough filled his throat and smoke burned his eyes as he gingerly pulled off her headset and threw it in the same direction as he’d done with his. The smell of jet fuel filled his lungs. “Come on, baby. We’ve got to get out of here.”

Using brute strength, he forced the twisted metal away from her. Then he set his fingers against the pulse point on her neck and felt a shallow beat. At least she was alive. For now. Ignoring the pain radiating down his arm, he slid it behind her shoulders and his other good arm under her knees and lifted. Then he felt his way to the door, forced it open and carried Ruth down the stairs.

“Thank you, Lord,” Noah whispered.

God did exist.

He’d felt something right after Ruth’s prayer. A presence that seemed to guide the plane, cradle it, making sure it made the runway and came to a stop without crumbling into pieces. Noah couldn’t quite explain what had happened.

It wasn’t that easy, couldn’t be that easy.

Rogue tears fell from his eyes and traveled down his cheeks.

Men didn’t cry. At least not in public.

But then again, most men hadn’t just walked away from a plane crash.

Heat seared his exposed skin and dried the moisture. Noah welcomed the solid ground beneath his feet as he held on to Ruth and moved them farther away from the aircraft.

Sirens screamed in his ears as a fire truck and ambulance screeched to a halt on the tarmac close to where the plane rested. Firemen and paramedics ran toward them.

“Anyone else inside?” A voice questioned.

Noah shook his head and gently placed Ruth on the ground so the paramedics could look her over. He backed away, adrift from the loss of contact, yet he knew the two men needed room to work. Another paramedic wearing a blue T-shirt approached. “Let’s take a look at you.”

“I’m fine.” Noah waved him off. The next few minutes playing out in front of him as if he were a phantom spectator. Firemen and policemen scurried about like frenzied ants. Paramedics brought out a stretcher and loaded a still-unconscious Ruth on it. Above him, helicopters captured the scene to replay over and over again for the evening news. Finally, his feet carried him forward to Ruth’s side, her face almost as pale as the white sheet underneath her. He picked up her hand and held it close to his heart. Then
he leaned over and brushed her forehead with his lips. “I love you. Please don’t die on me. Please.”

A hand clasped his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. You coming along for the ride?”

Noah straightened and shook his head. He had to stay here and deal with the plane and the men in suits heading his way. A soft moan escaped from Ruth’s lips, and he thought he felt her squeeze his hand before he set it down. Then he watched helplessly as a paramedic took Ruth to the ambulance, loaded her in and disappeared, taking her out of his life.

He watched the firemen put out the flames consuming the entire rear section of his favorite plane. A total loss.
Michelle Marie
was truly gone from his life now and he didn’t just mean the airplane. Closure washed over him. Michelle was dead, but Ruth wasn’t. Not if he could help it.

He continued to stare at the damage to the front part of the plane he could see. The entire nose of the aircraft was gone. Wires protruded from where the metal had ripped away. The wing was damaged, and part of the propeller didn’t exist anymore. A piece of metal from the sailplane stuck out from the body of the plane where the hole inside had been. They were lucky to be alive.

Noah finally found the courage and strength to bow his head and pray that the other pilot had survived and for Ruth’s recovery.

Grueling hours later, after Noah had filled out mounds of paperwork, he found himself sitting in his truck in the deserted airport parking lot, staring blankly at the wind-shield. Darkness scraped the outside of the glass and his anxiety built in waves, ready to tear down the lone remaining wall surrounding his heart. He gasped for breath.
The scent of smoke permeating from Ruth’s overnight bag and computer lying in the passenger seat assaulted his nostrils and unraveled the thin thread holding his emotions together. He’d retrieved them once he’d been let inside his damaged aircraft. He’d also taken the small photo frame with Michelle and Jeremy’s picture in it from the side compartment. Nothing else inside the plane had any value.

His life would have no meaning again if anything had happened to Ruth.

With Houston in Brad’s care for the time being, Noah turned the key and started the engine. He stopped his fingers from shaking by gripping the steering wheel. He had to find Ruth. He had to see her to apologize and make sure she was okay. If she’d even regained consciousness.

Having no idea where they’d taken her, he thrust a hand through his hair before throwing the truck in reverse and backing out of the space. Then he shoved the vehicle into drive and made his way toward the entrance. There were only so many hospitals in the Scottsdale area. He’d find her.

“May I help you?” The matronly looking E.R. nurse with dark circles under her eyes barely glanced in Noah’s direction as she stared at the computer screen.

Noah rubbed the back of his hand across the coarse stubble on his chin. He glanced around the sparsely populated emergency room, hoping for the unlikely chance that he’d spot Ruth. Only the white walls, a Hispanic family with a sick-looking child and an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair graced the interior. He turned his attention back to the nurse. “I’m looking for Ruth Fontaine? She would have been brought in about four o’clock this afternoon?”

“Hmm. That name sounds familiar.” After the woman
tapped some letters on her keyboard, her brows furrowed. “Yes, she’s here. Are you family?”

“Family? No.” Noah’s stomach clenched. Something was wrong. Had Ruth been hurt more than he or the paramedics suspected?

“I’m sorry, sir. Unless you’re family, visiting hours are over.” At least the woman looked contrite as she looked back down at the computer screen in front of her. “Why don’t you try back tomorrow?”

More nausea unsettled the coffee in his stomach. He balled his fists on the counter and inhaled sharply. The oxygen did little to calm his tense nerves. “Can you at least tell me if she’s okay? Please?”

“I’m afraid I can’t. All I can tell you is visitors are allowed in at seven o’clock. Excuse me.” The nurse reached to pick up the ringing phone next to her left hand.

“Fine. I’ll wait.” He gave the woman a curt nod and spun on his heel. Then he strode toward the most comfortable looking chair in the waiting room and settled his weary body into the burgundy material and prepared for a long wait. He wasn’t leaving until he saw Ruth.

In the stillness of the late evening, Ruth found the strength to open her eyes again. Sleep continued to elude her. Staring at the while hospital walls draped in shadows was better than replaying the whole crash scene that flashed behind her eyelids. Fear rode in on her panicked breath. She could still hear the horrific noise and feel the intense heat from the flames. Her hands clutched at the white sheets beneath her, entangling the fabric in her fingers until she also remembered the comforting feel of Noah’s arms around her when he carried her from the wreckage.

Ruth wanted to feel that safety and security again. She also wanted to hear the words Noah whispered to her in the chaos before the blackness claimed her. Did he really say he loved her? Or was it a figment of her imagination? Or had he said those words because he thought they were what she wanted to hear?

Ruth shifted, but she couldn’t escape her thoughts. Her entire body continued to ache and her head throbbed where she’d hit it, but she was alive thanks to Noah. Where was he? Had he been hurt in the crash, too?

Ruth struggled with the thin sheet covering her body. She had to find out. Stars danced in her vision when she tried to sit up, but due to her lack of strength, the top sheet only bunched itself tighter around her legs. Dismayed and disgusted, she fell back on the pillow as a figure appeared in the doorway. Her heart raced. Noah?

“Hey, there, Ruth. How you feeling?” Samantha had popped in. “I was so worried about you.”

“I’ve had better days.” Disappointment pooled in her stomach and slumped her shoulders. Ruth forced a smile to her best friend. Even that seemed to hurt. “How’d you hear?”

Samantha pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. “Mark called me. He heard it on the scanner. I would have come earlier but I just got off work.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad your husband wasn’t one of the paramedics. It probably would have freaked him out.”

“Nah. He’s a professional.” Concern laced Samantha’s voice as she reached over and picked up Ruth’s hand. The gentle contact soothed her. “So, what’s wrong? Why are you still here?”

“As a precaution. I took a pretty nasty blow to the head.”

“So that explains the bandage. Good. Now maybe you’ll get some much needed rest.”

“Right. Like that’s going to happen with the nurses checking on me all the time. You of all people ought to know better.” A tiny snort spilled through Ruth’s lips.

Samantha squeezed her fingers and hovered close to the bed like a mother hen. “Look. When they release you, I want you to stay with us for a few days, okay? I’ll get my shifts covered, and it will be like old times when we roomed together in nursing school.”

Ruth would probably get more rest if she went home, but she didn’t want to disappoint her friend. “That sounds awesome. Thanks for the offer.” Her gaze slid from Samantha’s face to the blank television screen and then back. Ruth had to know. She couldn’t really rest until she found out. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“I need to know that Noah’s okay. He was the pilot.” Uncertainty arose, and Ruth’s eyes filled with tears.

Samantha’s expression softened. “You love him, don’t you?”

Ruth nodded.

“Let me go check for you. I’ll be right back.” Samantha rushed from the room.

Five minutes later, she returned, a small frown creasing her forehead. “He’s not here. You came in alone. Noah refused treatment at the scene, but Mark talked to one of the paramedics who said the pilot didn’t appear to have any injuries, so I’m guessing he’s okay. Look, I gotta run now. I want to stop by your house and grab some clean clothes for you. Call me when they release you, and one of us will come pick you up.”

“Thanks, Samantha. I will.”

Once her friend left, Ruth closed her heavy, sleep-laden eyelids.
Where are you, Noah? I need you.

Noah’s footsteps dragged along the long corridor at eight o’clock the next morning. His entire body hurt, probably a residual effect from the accident and the long, uncomfortable stay in the waiting room chair downstairs. Somehow he’d managed to sleep, but no matter which way he turned, comfort eluded him. Was the discomfort more from the furniture or his mind’s inability to shut off the kaleidoscope of images that hunted him? The crash. The fire. An unconscious Ruth.

And the realization that he loved her.

Had she woken up yet? If the hospital staff downstairs knew, no one would tell him.

His feet rooted to the linoleum floor. What if she hadn’t make it? What if—Gasping for breath he leaned against the cold, unforgiving wall and closed his eyes. He didn’t know what scared him the most. His feelings for her or the idea that her injury was fatal. Or maybe it was both.

Nonsense. Ruth was okay. They wouldn’t let him see her if something bad had happened.

Dread crept in and attacked any progress he’d made. Images of that other hospital hall from three years earlier filled his brain. Could he handle this again? Nerves frayed, he almost punched a hole in the foam cup of coffee he carried.

Outside of room twenty-one, Noah froze. Ruth was inside. Could his heart take seeing her lying in a hospital bed? Could his brain allow him to walk away from her?

The uncertainty of the last twelve hours had only confirmed his decision. It had to be this way. He had to let her go. It was in her best interest. He couldn’t face the possibility of hurting her again. So why did he feel so rotten?

Gasping for air, he filled his lungs with the disinfectant-laden hospital air and trudged through the wide
doorway. His gaze immediately went to the opposite side, to where the pristine bed waited to swallow the next patient. His attention lurched to the closest bed, where a motionless Ruth lay in a half-sitting position. With her eyes closed and the riot of blond curls haloing her pale face, she reminded him of a sleeping angel. Only a bandage on her forehead and the hospital gown signaled her close brush with death.

Nausea hit him full force.

“Ruth?” His whisper barely registered over the sound from the television, yet her eyelids fluttered open.

“Hi, Noah. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Her smile lit up the room, and his darkness receded. Momentarily. Guilt reached out its sharp, merciless claws and grappled him again. “How are you feeling? How bad are you hurt?”

“I got nothing more than a few cuts and bruises and I’m sore, but I’ll heal. Keeping me overnight was simply a precaution. I’m waiting for the doctor to release me.” Her voice softened and sounded like melted butter on a homemade biscuit, which made him want to forget why he’d come and try to figure out how to start over. “Thanks to you, it wasn’t worse.”

“Here. I brought you a few things.” Uncomfortable at her seemingly herolike worship of him, Noah set the big vase of flowers on the tray table next to the water jug. Then he held out the cup in her direction before he put her overnight bag and laptop on the floor near the bed. “I know how lousy hospital coffee is so I walked down the street to the coffee shop. I made it just the way you like it.”