Wild at Heart Page 51

“No, Calla. We’ve gotta land.” He begins calling out our location over the radio as we descend.

“We’re not dead.” I release a long, shaky sigh as we float on the placid water in utter silence.

Jonah lets out a weak chuckle as he rubs his brow. “You don’t have a lot of confidence in my flying ability, do you?”

“I do. But I also thought we were going to hit those trees back there.” Jonah brought us down so close to the tree line, I couldn’t keep the screams of panic from escaping. Even now, cold sweat coats the back of my neck, and there’s a fifty-fifty chance I still might vomit.

“I wasn’t sure how big the lake was, and I wasn’t gonna risk having to do a second pass to get enough runway.”

Especially not when he had already cut the engine before the floats touched down. I heard enough of his radio chatter to understand the gist of what was going on. Things like “in the red,” “burning up,” and “stall out.”

It was far more serious than Jonah was letting on.

He nods to my chest. “You can let go.”

I look down and see that my hands are curled so tight around my seat belt that my knuckles are white. I release my grip and peer out the window. “Where are we?” Besides in the middle of nowhere.

“Here.” Jonah points out the lake on the map, surrounded by mountains and far from any town or landmark. We couldn’t walk, even if we wanted to.

“Is that guy going to come?”

As if on cue, our headsets crackle with the man’s voice, asking if we’re okay.

Jonah responds, giving him our coordinates, and then yanks off his headset. “He should be here soon. I need you to listen and relay any messages from him.”

“Where are you going?” We’re in the middle of a lake!

“I need to see how bad this is.” He reaches behind my seat for his tool bag. His mouth is mere inches from mine. Normally he’d have stolen a kiss by now. He always does when he’s reaching for anything behind my seat.

But he hasn’t this time.

I’d like to think it’s because he’s too focused on our current engine predicament, but I can’t help but worry that it’s about the other, more serious problem at hand.

On impulse, I lean in and capture his lips with mine. He responds with the briefest of kisses, his soft sigh skating across my cheek as he pulls away. “Listen for this Sam guy, okay?”

“Don’t fall in.” Who knows how deep that lake is, and the floats are likely slippery.

He pops open his door and eases out.

Leaving me alone with worry gnawing at my insides.

“What kind of plane is that?” I study the mustard-yellow one-seater that taxis along the lake toward us. It looks like a brightly painted fighter plane, with the little pilot hatch on the top.

“A Fire Boss.” Jonah watches its approach while standing on a float. “They use them to fight forest fires. The pilots fly down low over a lake, slurp up a bunch of water into the floats, and then dump it on the fire from above. It’s pretty cool.” Jonah’s words don’t match his flat voice and grim face. Whatever he found under that engine panel had him cursing Bart, Alaska Wild’s mechanic.

The silence drags as we wait.

“So, how bad is it?” I finally dare ask.

“Don’t know yet. I need to get Toby here.”

The yellow plane stops twenty feet away, and Jonah tightens his grip as the subtle waves rock us. The hatch pops open and a bald man waves. “Not havin’ a great day, are ya!”

You have no idea.

“Thanks for comin’, Sam,” Jonah hollers.

“No problem. You need a ride outta here? I can come back with another plane, but it’ll be a bit. Or I’ve got a friend not too far away I can call.”

“Either would be much appreciated.”

“Lemme get a hold of my friend. Probably faster.”

Jonah gently thumps his fist against the fuselage. “I’ll start tyin’ him up.”

“Did you do it right?”

I look up from my perch on the closed toilet to glare at Jonah. “How many ways are there to pee on a stick?”

“More than one, based on this.” He scowls at the pregnancy test instructions. “It’s less complicated to fly a damn plane.”

I stare hard at the tiny window, turning it this way and that under the light of the naked bulb above, searching for the second pink line that’s supposed to appear within two minutes. It’s been five and there’s not even a hint of one. Based on this test, I’m not pregnant.

Relief sweeps over me, though I know we’re not in the clear yet.

Jonah crumples and tosses the pamphlet into the trash can. “So, what now?” His mood hasn’t improved since Sam’s friend brought us home. We left Archie at the edge of the lake, secured by ropes and anchors, and I know it’s eating at him.

“I’ll do another test in the morning, to make sure. Maybe my hormones are messed up this month.” I can’t hide the hopefulness in my voice.

Just as Jonah can’t seem to hide the disappointment from his face.

He nods slowly. “Did Toby respond yet?”

“Yeah. He said he’s free to go today if you want,” I say.

“Today would be ideal.” He hesitates. “You good with staying home, or did you want to come with us?”

I can’t help but sense that Jonah would prefer the former of those two options. After my epic meltdown at the cabin, I wouldn’t blame him.

I smile, even though it stings to think he wants time away from me. “I think I’ve had enough flying excitement for one day.” My nerves are frazzled by that emergency landing. “Go do what you have to do.”

He peers at the second, unopened pregnancy test. He opens his mouth to say something but decides against it. Leaning down, he plants a quick kiss on my forehead and then turns for the door.

“Jonah?”

He pauses, his back to me. “Yup?”

“Are we okay?”

“Of course, we are.” He turns back to flash a comforting smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I’m practically skipping out of the bathroom and down the stairs the next morning, despite the heavy cramping in my abdomen, buoyant with the knowledge that the crisis has been averted. I am without a doubt not pregnant. I don’t know what caused the delay in my cycle, but I will certainly never forget a single pill ever again.

It’s only 6:30 a.m. and a quiet calm hangs in our house. I heard Jonah leave through the front door as I was waking, likely not expecting me up for another hour or two. My guess is he’s in the hangar, itching to fetch Archie from his temporary parking spot in the remote wilderness.

Toby dropped everything yesterday to come help him. They took off in Veronica, first to the plane so he could assess the damage. He confirmed what Jonah suspected—that several seals and lines weren’t tightened properly during maintenance, causing an oil leak. All fingers point to Bart, or whoever he had doing the work because Alaska Wild’s mechanic was known for pawning off basic maintenance to grounds crew who swore they knew what they were doing. He would normally double-check their work, but maybe, with everything going on at Wild, he missed that step.