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
