flown much?” she asked.
“Much. It’s how I make house calls to see about one-third of my patients.”
“Do you own your own plane?”
“Well, let’s just say Boonesbury and I are partners in it.”
“What kind of plane is it? A tiny prop?” Which was what the other director had had her harrowing landing in.
“Do you know planes?”
“No.”
“Then it probably won’t do much good for me to give you the particulars, but my plane is a twin prop. That means it’s slightly bigger than a single engine— I have two engines—and she’s a six-seater. A single engine prop would have two or four seats, if that matters to you at all.”
“What matters to me is if she’s safe. I’ve never been thrilled with small planes.”
“She’s perfectly safe. I’m a stickler for maintenance, and I’ve never yet had a single incident that’s put me on the ground before I wanted to be.”
There’s always a first time, Emmy thought. But she didn’t say it. Instead she reminded herself that this was all part of the job she was going to do without the nervousness and fussiness Evelyn had exhibited.
Besides, not flying would add two days and who-knew-what other complications to the trip, and she didn’t like that idea any better than the idea of flying in a small plane.
So she decided she was just going to have to trust this man.
“I guess it’ll be all right,” she finally conceded.
“I guarantee it will be.”
Emmy took a deep breath and sighed a resigned sigh. “Where to, then?”
“The noncommercial terminal is on the other side of baggage claim. As soon as we pick up your luggage we can head out.”
The doctor took her carry-on without comment and pointed with his well-defined chin in the direction they needed to go. “This way,” he said.
But even as they began to walk he looked at her, up and down.
“I hope you packed some warmer clothes and a heavy coat,” he commented after a moment of scrutiny.
“I have jeans and slacks. And a light sweater.” What she’d thought would cover most needs, even should she have to trek through some countryside.
“No coat?” he asked again.
“It’s only September first.”
“But this is Alaska.”
“Which is why I brought long pants and the sweater.”
“The trouble is, Boonesbury isn’t far from the Arctic Circle. Our highs aren’t getting much above freezing and our lows are already getting down into the single digits.”
“Oh,” Emmy said yet again. She hadn’t looked into the possibility of chilly weather because she’d honestly thought it was too early in the season for cold to be a factor even in Alaska. It was still the height of summer in Los Angeles.
But the doctor was unfazed. “Looks like first thing tomorrow we get you a coat and some warmer clothes. Even though it’ll be Sunday I think I can get Joan to open up the store for us.”
“There’s a woman’s clothing store in Boonesbury?”
“No, it’s more of a general store—Joan sells about everything imaginable. But we all just call it the store.”
“I see. Well, I probably won’t need much. I’m not all that susceptible to the cold.”
Aiden Tarlington couldn’t seem to suppress a grin at that. A grin that put two intriguing lines on either side of his mouth. “Uh-huh,” was all he said as they reached baggage claim.
It didn’t take long to grab her suitcase and get to the terminal used for private flights. Unlike the commercial accommodations, there was no covered boarding ramp, though. They had to go out onto the tarmac. Into air that was surprisingly chilly and hit Emmy like opening the door on a meat locker.
But she hid the shiver that ran through her so her companion didn’t see it and have his suspicions confirmed that she was some kind of wimp.
The small plane was dwarfed by its jet-liner cousins waiting at the surrounding gates, and Emmy had a resurgence of tension at the idea of getting into what seemed to her like a miniplane. A miniplane that would be piloted by a country doctor rather than by someone who had made a career of it.
As the country doctor did his preflight check he seemed to know what he was doing, but still Emmy buckled up tight and found both armrests to clutch just for good measure.
Then, after some back-and-forth conferencing with the control tower, they taxied out to the runway and took off.
“We’ll be flying relatively low,” Aiden explained over the din of the engines. “So you’ll get a good look at things until we lose daylight. And in case you were wondering, I am instrument trained to fly in the dark.”
Emmy hadn’t known special training was required to fly at night, and it didn’t help calm her nerves to learn that it did. Even if he was qualified.
“Come on, relax and enjoy the sights,” he urged as if he knew what she was thinking.
They weren’t in the air for more than a half hour when all signs of civilization disappeared and a spectacular panorama took over.
Aiden began to point out lakes and glacier-made valleys, specific mountain peaks and natural wonders Emmy might have missed otherwise.
But despite the incredible beauty of it all as a setting sun dusted everything in rosy hues, Emmy was left with little doubt that she had entered a true wilderness. And that didn’t thrill her. In fact, it left her with a sense of isolation she hadn’t thought she’d ever feel again, even on these trips.
To keep the feelings at bay she told herself, I won’t be here forever. I’m not changing my whole life the way I was before. I’m only here for work. For a short while…
But still the feeling persisted, tormenting her.
The flight took about an hour and a half—the last half hour of it in darkness. But finally Aiden announced that they were about to land.
“Where?” Emmy wondered aloud since she couldn’t see an airport or so much as a light in the distance as they descended. And, unlike on takeoff, there was no radio contact going on, either.
“We’ll put down in the field. It’s what passes for Boonesbury’s airport,” Aiden informed her.
“A field?”
“It’ll be fine,” he said with yet another touch of amusement in his voice.
But the reassurance didn’t keep Emmy
