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“Don’t get your shorts in a bunch, Hunter,” Mary Lou said as if she’d read his mind. “I don’t have family, and working here at Life Medevac is what makes me happy and keeps me going. I love what I do, so don’t go getting any ideas about making me take time off on a regular basis, because I won’t do it.” She opened the door to his room, then, stepping back, pointed to his luggage. “Are all your things in that one suitcase?”
He nodded. “I stored the rest of my things until I find a place in Devil’s Fork.”
“Good idea.” The woman nodded her approval. “Now go ahead and get your gear stowed away while I radio Evac II and find out the status of their patient and what time they estimate they’ll get back to base.”
Hunter stared after Mary Lou as she breezed out the door and down the hall as if her working without regular days off was a nonissue. But he wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t just a question of the labor laws. Her age and well-being had to be taken into consideration, as well. She might seem like a dynamo with boundless energy, but working 24-7 would be hard on a much younger person, let alone a woman close to seventy.
As he lifted his suitcase and placed it on the edge of the bed to unpack, he decided there were several things he needed to do right away. Not only did he need to order the correct size flight suits for everyone, he’d have to check into Texas labor laws.
Putting away the last of his clothes, he looked around. It was a good thing he always traveled light. The room was barely big enough for the twin bed, small chest of drawers and bedside table. There was no way he’d have had room for anything but his clothes.
But then, he didn’t need a lot of room. For the past five years he hadn’t cared how spacious his accommodations had been or even where they’d been located. After working construction so hard each day that he’d been too tired to think or remember, all he’d needed was a place to sleep, shower and change clothes. With any luck, there would be enough work to keep him just as busy at Life Medevac.
At the sound of a helicopter landing outside, he walked down the hall to the dispatch room. “They weren’t gone long.”
Mary Lou nodded. “Juanita Rodriguez thought she was going to have her baby, but it turned out to be false labor.” Smiling, she added, “She’s only nineteen and it’s her first pregnancy. She and her husband, Miguel, are worried they won’t make it to the hospital in time.”
“I hear that’s a big concern for most first-time parents.” A twinge of regret ran through Hunter. Anticipating the arrival of a child was something he would never experience.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on the disturbing thought as the flight crew from Evac II entered the dispatch room. Besides Callie, the crew consisted of a sandy-haired man who looked to be in his forties and a fresh-faced kid of about twenty.
“The name’s George Smith,” the man said, smiling as he walked over to shake Hunter’s hand. Almost as tall as Hunter’s own six-foot-three-inch frame, George was built like a heavyweight prizefighter, and if his grip was any indication, as strong as one. “I’m the pilot for the Evac II team.” He nodded toward the younger man. “And that kid over there is Corey Timmons, the EMT on our crew.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. O’Banyon,” Corey said, stepping forward to pump Hunter’s hand enthusiastically. “We’ve been looking forward to you taking over.”
“Call me Hunter.” He wasn’t surprised to hear the employees had been looking forward to a change in administration. From the file he’d been given, when Emerald bought Life Medevac, the employees hadn’t been paid their wages in several weeks.
Grinning, the young man’s brown eyes danced mischievously. “We’re glad to see you survived the drive across town with Callie behind the wheel.”
Hunter chuckled. “Was there doubt?”
“After flying into Devil’s Fork with Crash Jenson at the controls of that little four-seater prop job, we kinda wondered if her driving wouldn’t finish you off,” George added, laughing.
“If you two keep joking about my driving, I’ll stop making those chocolate-chip-oatmeal cookies you love so much,” Callie warned good-naturedly as she crossed the room to the kitchen area, where Mary Lou was putting the finishing touches on the crew’s dinner.
“We take it all back,” Corey said earnestly as he walked over to grab a plate for Mary Lou to fill with a generous helping of stew.
“You bet,” George said, nodding vigorously. “We were just joking around, Callie. Whatever you do, don’t stop making those cookies.” Turning to Hunter, he confided, “You’ve never tasted anything as good in your entire life as her chocolate-chip-oatmeal cookies.”
“I’ll look forward to trying them,” Hunter said, enjoying the easy banter.
As George moved to get a plate of stew, Hunter watched Callie open the refrigerator to remove a carton of orange juice and once again noticed the way her flight suit fit. The navy-blue fabric was fairly loose everywhere but in her midsection and she looked as if…
A sudden cold feeling of intense dread began to fill Hunter’s chest and he had to swallow hard against the bile rising in his throat. Callie Marshall wasn’t just carrying a few extra pounds around the middle. She was several months pregnant.
Two
As she walked past Hunter to sit down in one of the chairs in front of Mary Lou’s desk, Callie wondered what on earth she’d done to come under such close scrutiny. His intense stare had followed her from the moment she’d walked into the room and caused her skin to tingle as if he’d reached out and touched her.
Shaking her head to clear it, she decided her uncharacteristic reaction to him had to be because her hormones were all out of whack due to her pregnancy. It was the only reasonable explanation she could think of to explain it.
His concentrated stare had probably been nothing more than the result of noticing her thickening midsection. He was no doubt trying to figure out whether she was just a bit plump or expecting a baby.
Careful to keep her voice low to avoid calling the others’ attention to the fact that she’d caught him staring, she smiled as she turned to meet his intense green gaze. “In case you’re wondering about my odd shape, I’m four and a half months pregnant.”
Running an agitated hand through his dark brown hair, he looked a little uncomfortable. “I…didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled, hoping to put him at ease. “It’s not like it’s a big secret. And, as you can see, I’m certainly not trying to hide my pregnancy.”
“Your husband is okay with you flying while you’re pregnant?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
It was an odd question, but the concern on his handsome face and in his deep voice was genuine. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t have a husband, so it’s a nonissue.” She shrugged. “I’m unmarried, uncommitted and quite content to stay that way.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.” He looked more uncomfortable than before.
“It’s not a problem. I’m actually looking forward to single motherhood.”
He looked as if he intended to say something, but Corey chose that moment to walk over and plop down in the chair beside her. “Have we sucked up enough to get more cookies or do we need to grovel a little more?”
Callie laughed at the likable young EMT. “No, I think you’ve redeemed yourself enough for another batch of chocolate-chip-oatmeal cookies.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go check out my office,” Hunter said suddenly, turning to walk down the hall.
Staring after her new boss, she wondered what had caused his abrupt change. When she’d met him at the airfield, he’d been congenial and outgoing. But within the span of a few minutes his mood had become pensive and troubled. Was he concerned that she would be unable to do her job?
She rose to her feet to follow him into the office and reassure him that she was perfectly capable of carrying out her duties, but the dispatch radio chose that moment to crackle to life.
“Looks like we have another run,” Mary Lou said, crossing the room to answer the call.
As Callie listened to the highway patrol officer relay the location of the one-car accident on Interstate 10 and the patrolman’s assessment of the driver’s injuries, she, George and Corey started for the door. “Tell him we’re on the way.”
“ETA is fifteen minutes,” George said.
“Keep the stew warm,” Corey added.
Out of the corner of her eye Callie saw Hunter reenter the room. His concerned expression reinforced her determination to set his mind at ease. But their talk would have to wait until later. Whether or not he believed she was capable of doing her job, she had an accident victim depending on her for emergency medical attention. And she wasn’t about to let her patient down.
Drenched in a cold sweat, Hunter awoke with a jerk and, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, sat up. Propping his elbows on his knees, he cradled his head in his hands as he tried to chase away the remnants of his nightmare.
He hadn’t dreamed about the accident in almost six months. But it was just as real now as it had been when he’d lived through it five years ago. He and his fiancée, Ellen Reichert, a second-year resident at the Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami, had flown into Central America to deliver medical supplies and administer first aid to some of the remote villages hit the hardest by a category-four hurricane. Everything about the trip had been routine and uneventful until he’d circled the landing site for their last stop. That’s when all hell had broken loose and the course of his life had changed forever.
The twin-turbine helicopter he’d been piloting had suddenly lost oil pressure, then, before he could get it safely set down, it stalled out. He didn’t remember a lot of the details of what happened after that, only that he’d fought the controls with little success. The chopper had ended up tilting precariously in midair, then come down hard on its starboard side.
His first thought had been to make sure that Ellen was all right, then get them out of what was left of the helicopter. But the blood in his veins had turned to ice when he’d called her name and she’d failed to respond. He’d placed his fingers to the side of her neck and, detecting a faint pulse, scrambled to release their seat belts. Pushing the door on the port side of the chopper open, he’d carefully lifted her up through the opening, then carried her a safe distance from the wreckage.
When she’d regained consciousness, they’d both known she didn’t have long, and that’s when his devastating heartbreak had turned to total despair. She’d told him that she’d been waiting for the perfect time to tell him she’d recently learned she was pregnant. With her dying breath she’d told him how much she loved him and how sorry she was that she had to go, then, closing her eyes, she’d quietly slipped away.
The ensuing investigation into the crash had proven the accident had been caused by mechanical failure and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. But he’d quit flying that day and struggled for the past five years, feeling guilty because he’d walked away with nothing more than cuts and bruises, blaming himself for living when the woman he’d loved and their future child had died. He’d spent countless hours going over every detail of the accident, wondering if there was something he could have done differently, something that could have lessened her injuries or saved her life. But try as he might, he couldn’t think of anything that would have changed the outcome.
He took a deep shuddering breath and tried to relegate the disturbing memories to the back of his mind. There was no doubt why the horrific dream had returned, and he couldn’t say he was overly surprised that it had. After discovering that Callie was pregnant, all he’d been able to think about was once again being responsible for the lives of a woman and her unborn child. Even though she wasn’t on his flight crew, as her employer it was ultimately his job to see to her safety.
Fortunately her shift had ended right after the Evac II team had returned from transporting the car accident victim to a hospital in El Paso. That meant that he had four days to come up with a convincing argument to get her to ground herself. And unless her crew was called out as backup for Evac III, she and her baby would be safe.
Now all Hunter had to do was figure out a way to keep them that way.
“Give me a second,” Callie called when it sounded as if whoever was at her front door would knock it off its hinges with their insistent pounding. Wiping the flour from her hands with her apron, she turned her CD player down and hurried from the kitchen to open the door. “What’s so important that—”
She stopped short at the sight of Hunter O’Banyon standing on her tiny front porch. Lord have mercy, but he was one of the best looking men she’d ever seen. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and worn blue jeans. The soft fabrics fit him like a second skin and emphasized the width of his broad shoulders and his narrow hips. When she glanced at his arms, the sight of his bulging biceps stretching the knit sleeves of his shirt sent a shiver of awareness straight up her spine.
Callie gave herself a mental shake. What on earth was wrong with her? And why in the name of heaven was she ogling the man as if he were a fudge-nut brownie with rich chocolate frosting?
“Are you all right?” His expression was one of deep concern.
“Of—” she swallowed hard “—course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Other than being embarrassed that her hair was piled on her head in total disarray, her shorts and T-shirt were the oldest things she had in her closet and she was coated with a fine dusting of flour, she was just peachy.
“I knocked for five minutes before you answered the door. I thought something might be wrong.” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Never mind. Do you have a few minutes? We need to talk.”
What could he possibly think they needed to discuss? And why did he have to show up after she’d received a phone call from her mother?
At least once a week since telling her mother she was pregnant they’d gone through the same old routine of her mother wanting to know who the father of Callie’s baby was and why she was so insistent on keeping the man’s identity a secret. Frustrated beyond words with her mother’s persistence, by the time Callie had ended the phone call, she’d already measured the ingredients for several dozen sugar cookies and had pulled the box of oats from the cupboard for a double batch of chocolate-chip-oat-meal cookies.
Some women cleaned house when they were upset. Callie baked.
“Do you mind if I come in?” Hunter asked, returning her to the present.
“I’m sorry. Please come in.” She stepped back for him to enter her small cottage. “I was just baking some—oh no! My cookies!” Remembering the peanut butter cookies she’d put into the oven just before hearing him pound on the door, she made a beeline for the kitchen with him hot on her heels.
“Damn! When you make cookies, you don’t fool around, do you?” he said, looking around.
Taking the baking sheet from the oven, she placed it on the top of the stove, then glanced at the table and countertops. Plates of cookies covered every available surface.
Shaking her head at the sight, she nibbled on her lower lip. She must have been more upset over her mother’s phone call than she’d realized.
“Would you like some milk and cookies?” She grinned. “I have plenty.”
“No kidding.” His deep chuckle caused a wave of goose bumps to sweep over her skin. “What are you going to do with all of them?”
“They won’t last long around George and Corey.”
She opened a cabinet to get something to store the cookies in, but the feel of Hunter’s broad chest pressed to her side as he stepped forward to reach for several of the plastic containers on the top shelf sent a charge of excitement skipping over every nerve in her body. When he handed them to her, then stepped back, she had trouble drawing her next breath.
Unnerved, her hand trembled as she took the containers from him. “Th-thank you.”
He gave her a short nod, then moved farther away. “I think I will take you up on that offer of some milk and cookies.”
Pouring them each a glass of milk, she set one at the far end of the table and started to sit down at the opposite end. Hunter was immediately behind her, holding the chair, and his close proximity unsettled her so much that she almost turned over her glass.
What in blazes was wrong with her? She not only felt as jumpy as a frightened rabbit, she’d suddenly turned into a major klutz.
When he sat down across from her, he studied the plates of cookies between them. “What do you suggest I start with first?”
“I like the oatmeal cookies, but that’s probably because I use chocolate chips instead of raisins,” she said, reaching for one of the tasty treats.
He nodded as he took a cookie from one of the plates. “I’m kind of partial to peanut butter myself.” Taking a bite, his eyes widened. “Corey and George weren’t exaggerating—these are some of the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”
As they munched on the cookies, Callie wondered what it was he thought they needed to discuss. For the life of her she couldn’t think of anything so important that he’d pay her a visit on her day off.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, hoping the sooner he stated the purpose for his visit, the sooner he’d leave. She desperately needed to regain her composure.
Taking a deep breath, he set his empty glass on the table, then caught her gaze with his. “I’m concerned that your job might be a little too much for a woman in your condition.”
She laughed. “Contrary to what you might think, pregnancy is not a disability.”
“I understand that,” he said, nodding. “But at times I’m sure it’s extremely tiring.”
“I’m not going to pretend that it isn’t.” She rose to place their glasses in the dishwasher, then started stacking cookies in the containers for freezing. “But there are also times when we’ll go for a day or two without an emergency call and I’m exhausted from sheer boredom. Besides, my obstetrician doesn’t have a problem with me working as a flight nurse, so if you’re worried that it’s too strenuous for me, don’t. Corey and George are both very conscientious and won’t let me do any heavy lifting. And when we’re not out on calls, I make sure to take regular naps.”
“Yes, but there’s other things to be considered, such as turbulence or pilot error,” he said as he handed her plates full of cookies to be stored in the plasticware.
“I trust George. He’s a good pilot.”
“I’m not saying he isn’t.”
She snapped the lid shut on the box, then started filling another one. “What are you saying?”
He rubbed the back of his neck as if to relieve tension. “Aren’t you worried about having to make a rough landing or a possible crash?”
“Not really.” She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why he was so overly concerned. Every pilot she’d ever known considered flying the safest mode of transportation. “In the event that something like that happens, I’m in no greater danger because I’m pregnant than I would be if I wasn’t.”
“But—”
“I see no reason why you’re so worried about it, but if you think it’s that important, why don’t you review the employment records and put me on the crew with the best pilot?”
To her surprise, he placed his large hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. But instead of arguing his point further, he stared at her for several long seconds before he muttered a curse and lowered his head to capture her lips with his.
As his mouth moved over hers in a gentle caress, Callie’s pulse raced and her insides began to hum. The last thing she’d expected for him to do was kiss her. But instead of pushing him away as she should have, she reached out and placed her hands on his biceps to steady herself. The feel of his rock-hard muscles flexing beneath her palms sent a shiver of excitement up her spine and caused her knees to tremble.
If she had any sense, she’d put a stop to the kiss right now and demand that he leave. But his firm, warm lips were making her feel things that she’d only read about in women’s magazines and romance novels, and she didn’t want the delicious sensations to end.
When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him to deepen the kiss, the feel of his superior strength surrounding her sent tiny little sparks skipping over every nerve in her body. Opening for him, she felt her heart skip several beats when he slipped his tongue inside to tease and explore her with a tenderness that made forming a coherent thought all but impossible.
Placing his hand at the small of her back, he urged her forward, but the feel of her round little tummy pressed to his stomach must have brought him back to reality. He suddenly went completely still, then, releasing her, he carefully set her away from him and took a couple of steps back.
“That shouldn’t…have happened.” He ran an agitated hand through his thick dark brown hair. “I think I should probably leave.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Embarrassed and more than a little confused by her uncharacteristic behavior, Callie began packing more cookies into the plastic containers. Why hadn’t she stopped him instead of clinging to him as if she were desperate for a man’s attention?
