“I don’t need to know about any of that. You do whatever you want with it. It’s yours.” The last thing I want him thinking is that I’m sticking around for an inheritance. “But what do you think you want to do about Wild?” That’s an entire company to deal with once he’s gone.

“I talked to Howard from Aro Airlines about an hour ago. That’s that regional airline that wanted to buy Wild. I mentioned them before. They’ve made me a good offer. I think I’m gonna take it.”

“You said they’d swallow Wild up, though.” My family company that’s been around since the 1960s, that my dad wouldn’t leave, will no longer exist.

It’s odd; I hated it for so long, and yet the idea of that makes me sad.

“Eventually, probably. But to tell you the truth, it could be good for the villages and this whole part of Alaska in the long run, even if it is called something different. Anyway, they’re willing to keep everyone on staff, and that’s my only real concern. They want Jonah to run it, too. Give him a COO title or something like that. I’ll have to talk to him about it. Not sure that’s what he has in mind.”

“He already said he’d do it.”

“I know, but it’s a whole different ball game, being tied up with a big company like that. He’d have board members to answer to and all kinds of new processes and policies.” He smiles. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but Jonah doesn’t do too well with rules and authority, and people telling him what to do.”

“Nope. Haven’t noticed,” I mutter wryly, earning his soft chuckle. “Either way, he’d do it for as long as they need him to.” There’s no doubt in my mind about that.

“Even if it means sitting in a chair all day, every day, instead of being in the air. Oh, I know. If there’s one thing about Jonah, he’s loyal to a fault. He’ll do it long after I’m in the ground.” My dad sighs heavily. “I don’t want that kinda life for him. He doesn’t suit it, anyway.”

“Is there anything else?”

“Just keep livin’, I guess.” He gives me a resigned smile. “Try to have as many good days as I can, until I use them up.”

“We can do that,” I say with determination, giving his hand another squeeze. I don’t have to be okay with it, but I can be here for it.

“Well, alright then.” A slow, resigned smile curls his lips. “How about we start by finding Jonah and getting the hell out of this joint.”

The moment the attendant pauses at the end of the ramp outside the hospital’s main doors, my dad is pushing himself out of the wheelchair. “Thanks. I’ve got it from here, Doug.”

The attendant gives him a scolding look.

My dad holds his hands in the air, in surrender. “If I fall on my butt, I won’t sue anyone but myself, I swear.”

With a lingering pause, he finally nods. “You take care of yourself, Wren.”

“Will do.”

Doug spins the chair around and disappears through the doors, leaving us to cross the parking lot ourselves.

Jonah smooths a hand over the fresh pink scar on his forehead. “Don’t know why I needed to see the doctor for that. I could have just pulled them out myself.”

“But then you couldn’t shamelessly flirt with her,” I mutter. We found him perched on a patient table in the office of a -forty-something-year-old blonde doctor, complimenting her on her husky dogsled team pictured on the wall and telling her he’ll definitely come back to her the next time he crashes a plane and needs stitches.

“Do you think it worked?”

“Absolutely. She’s on the phone with her best friend right now, saying she’s fallen for a jackass with a death wish.”

“Isn’t that basically what you did?” he retorts.

My cheeks burn as I spear Jonah with a warning glare, feeling Mabel’s curious eyes flicker back and forth between us. Whatever thoughts are going on in that innocent mind are thankfully held back by a mouthful of chocolate muffin.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise . . .” my dad murmurs quietly, then starts to chuckle. The sound dies as he turns away to try to hide his grimace of pain.

But we all notice, and it throws a dark, sobering cloud over the moment of brevity the rest of the way to Jonah’s SUV.

“Here,” Jonah calls out, tossing his keys in the air for me to catch.

I frown. “Why do I need these?”

“Because you’re driving.”

“Funny.” I make to toss them back, but he heads for the passenger side. “Jonah!”

“You think I’m gonna chauffeur your ass around for the next however long? Think again.” He climbs in.

“I’ll just call a cab,” I holler through the driver’s-side window, left open from the ride in.

“You’re learning how to drive, right now. Get in.”

“You don’t know how to drive?” Mabel exclaims with a shocked frown.

With a sigh of irritation, I hold the keys out to my father.

“Don’t you dare, Wren,” Jonah warns sternly.

“Sorry, kiddo, my hands are full.” He waves the small paper bag with his prescription in the air as he steps around me to duck into the backseat.