Morgan,” she said between mouthfuls. “I’m starving!”
Laura settled her own tray over her lap and took the utensils Morgan handed her. “So, you’re volunteering to fly here, Rhona? That’s wonderful.”
“Yes,” Morgan said, making sure his wife was properly set up to eat before he settled down in a chair with his own tray. “And she walked twenty miles today from Bonsall to do it.”
Eyes widening, Laura gave her a look of pure admiration. “That’s a lotta miles, Rhona. Aren’t you tired?”
“Yes, I am.” Rhona looked toward the window, where the venetian blind was up so that they could see the airport. “But not as tired and exhausted as I know those pilots are.”
“Well,” Laura murmured, pride in her voice, “we’re so lucky to have you here with us, Rhona. How many other people would do what you’ve done? Probably not many.”
“It’s my Indian blood,” she murmured. “Indians are very conscientious about their community, and they pitch in to help when and where they can.”
“I’m sure Lieutenant Nolan Galway is going to think you’re an angel come from heaven,” Morgan said. He put some ketchup on his hamburger, and then added mustard. “Right now, he can’t fly without a copilot. That’s a military rule. If something happened to him in the cockpit and he didn’t have a copilot to take over, the chopper would be lost. So—” he grinned and picked up the hamburger “—I’m sure he’s going to welcome you with open arms.”
Rhona sighed. “I sure hope you’re right, Morgan. But I’m a woman. Ex-navy. This guy is a marine, and you know how they feel about any other military service—like we’re not worthy and all that macho bull.”
Morgan eyed his chocolate pudding and decided to eat it next. “Hopefully, this guy isn’t like the infamous Neanderthals you had the bad luck to be with in your squadron.”
“Time will tell,” Rhona murmured. As she continued to wolf down the hot, tasty food, she wondered about that. With a name like Galway, he had to be of Irish heritage. The fact that she was Scot and Navajo would make them mix like oil and water. Still, as she sat in the hospital room, with the sounds of helicopters and jet engines muffled by the brick walls, Rhona was excited. A part of her missed the military. Would this helicopter pilot be happy that she was now his partner and copilot? Rhona knew that in the coming weeks her life would not be her own. It would consist of flying the maximum hours allowed by aviation rules, dropping into exhausted sleep in a tent somewhere, and eating on the run as they jogged toward their cockpit. And all of it would be done with her partner, Lieutenant Nolan Galway. They’d do just about everything together—almost like being married, in a sense, because of the stresses and demands upon them to work as a close-knit team from dawn to dusk.
What would be his reaction to her? Rhona wasn’t sure. In less than twelve hours, she’d find out.
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