Miracles. Part 22

"I'm still here."

"The important thing is, is your stomach still here?"

"Definitely. It's been growling for hours. Which I have a feeling is about to become a real advantage."

"Lets you appreciate the full effects of-"

"Don't tell me. Sam's Special Elixir."

"Honest, honey, you could use a little of it. But let me know if it gets to be too much. Okay?"

But it wasn't too much. It was wonderful. Easy, slow rolls and great, swooping loops, and heart-stopping dives where the glistening waters of Lake Superior rushed to meet them, drawing closer and closer until she was sure they couldn't pull out of it in time. But they did, in a twisting roll, and suddenly they were climbing again, leaving Superior in their wake.

On and on it went. The little plane playing in the early-morning sky over the "shining big sea waters." And somewhere in the middle of it, she forgot she was tired, forgot the strain of the long night. Forgot everything but the moment- and the man who was sharing it with her.

It was a lark. A pure outburst of joy. It was also a gift. A baring of his soul, as intimate a gesture as any he could have made to her. The sunrise, and now this romp in the quiet solitude of the northern sky: This is who I am. Take it. Take what I want to give you.

And, oh, how she wanted to. But it was only a moment, and what she wanted was a lifetime.

When the plane finally leveled out, the Michigan coast appearing in the canopy ahead, her heart was aching. It ached even more at the ardent, slightly breathless way he said her name.

"Katie?"

"Yes, Sam."

"Let's go home."

Home . . . She thought about the way he'd said the word as they flew westward, across the green carpet of wilderness far below.

A light morning mist still hovered over the empty field when they landed.

Kate managed her straps and helmet while Sam brought the plane to a stop by the barn. She wanted to get out on her own, didn't want him to help her, didn't want even to look at him. For the ride, as she was sure he'd known it would, had worked its magic. She was feeling raw and vulnerable, and she knew the first tender word or gesture from him would have her crying hysterically for him not to leave her. Before she could climb out, though, he reached for her hand, and she couldn't avoid giving it to him.

She felt the difference in him the instant he touched her, his hand enclosing hers in his strong grasp. Energy, excitement, and that underlying urgency she was coming to recog-nize-it radiated from him as he helped her climb onto the wing. Their bodies brushed, and his hands went to her waist to steady her. It was completely unnecessary-the wing wasn't that far off the ground-but he kept hold of her hand, stepping down, then turning to wait for her to follow.

He didn't speak, but, in a quick glance, she caught the intense, compelling look in his gray eyes as they searched her features. She was afraid she knew what he was thinking- that, now, they could pick up where they'd left off, with him trying to convince her to let him make it so she could conceive. He wouldn't give up until she let him try, for then he'd be able to leave with a clear conscience, having given her the only pieces of himself he could give her honestly.

Maybe she was being a fool not to take what she could get. Yet if she let him heal her, what would she have when he was gone that she didn't have now?

Nothing. His gift would be wasted on her. For she could never have another man's child without knowing it had been Sam who'd made it possible-and without wishing the child were his.

As she walked beside him toward the Jeep parked by the back door of the house, thoughts of another confrontation like yesterday's sent shivers of dread racing through her. When the screen door banged, she glanced up, relieved to see Steve and Cressie coming out to meet them. And it flashed through her mind simply to stay and get Steve to take her home later. It didn't surprise her, though, after they'd given Steve and Cressie a bare-bones account of the night's events, to hear Sam say they had to go. Cressie offered to fix them breakfast, and Kate was about to say she'd love some when Sam said, thanks, anyway, but there was something he had to take care of.

Her thoughts-and her insides-were in turmoil as she let him guide her, with a hand on the small of her back, toward the Jeep. She was vaguely aware of Cressie's curious looks and of Sam telling Steve he'd be back later to "settle up." It wasn't until they were headed out the long driveway, though, that the strangeness of the men's conversation struck her.

She waited until they were halfway to town-traveling at a speed that made her wonder if Sam thought he was still flying the plane-then she spoke, more to break the unbearable tension than out of any real curiosity.

"I thought Steve was flying to Pittsburgh today."

Sam's voice was especially rough as he replied. "He decided not to go."

"Did the man change his mind about buying the plane?"

"No." He paused for an instant, then added, "Steve got a better offer."

"Really? From whom?"

"Me."

Kate turned her head slowly to look at him. "You bought the plane?"

Sam's gaze remained fixed on the road as he nodded. "Last night, over the phone, when I called to let Cressie know I'd gotten you to Marquette in one piece."

Her gaze searched his profile, taking in the set line of his jaw, the sharp angle of his cheekbone; they'd never been less revealing. His white knuckles on the steering wheel told her something, though.

"But . . . why?" she asked.

"Why do I want a plane?"

"Why do you want that plane?"

"Because it's just about perfect for what I want to do with it."

"Which is?"

"Have fun. Mostly. . . . What are you looking at me like that for?"

She glanced away. "No reason, except . . ."

"You liked all that messing around over the lake, didn't you?"

"Yes, I . . . I liked it. A lot."

"It was fun."

"Yes."

"So. . . ?"

"It just seems, if you were going to buy a plane, you'd want something"-her hand fluttered-"I don't know. Newer? Faster?"

Sam took his eyes off the road to give her a steady look. "Am I in a hurry?"

She held his gaze as she answered. "Aren't you?"

"Only to get you out of this Jeep and behind a closed door."

Kate swallowed hard, panic tightening the knots around her heart. But as he continued, the panic washed away, and her aching heart began to swell with a very different emotion.

Turning back to the road, he told her, "There might be other times I'm in a hurry, too. Like last night. But a plane wouldn't always do the job-like if there was snow on the ground, or if you needed room for a stretcher. Or, maybe, if I wanted to transport things like packages of medical supplies or people- say, a fishing or skiing party. Between the swamps and the mountains on the coast and all the trees, there aren't enough places to land to make a plane practical. So the T-34's mostly for fun, and maybe"-his gaze raked over her once, swiftly- "maybe for teaching a certain friend of mind-a friend who could stand a little fun in her life-to fly, if she's interested. For work, I need a chopper. And a place to keep them both. A big place-like the one we just pa.s.sed with those pink trees and the 'For Sale' sign on the lawn. Katie, who owns that boarded-up farm?"

She had the back of her hand pressed to her mouth and could hardly speak to answer. "The M-McCarrons. They moved to . . . to Chicago about th-three years ago."

Sam reached to catch her hand, wrapping it in his as he carried it to rest on his thigh. "The property starts here, at the edge of town?"

"Uh-huh."

"Hmm. Well, I guess it's a good thing I've spent the last ten years living on a quarter of what I made."

With her lower lip caught between her teeth and her senses focused entirely on the warmth of his hand holding hers against the rock-hard muscles of his thigh, Kate struggled against the burning tightness in her throat. No, not yet. She couldn't start crying yet. But her heart was crying, Hurry! as they pa.s.sed her house, paused at the intersection of Main and Bourner's Mill, and took the turn onto the old lake road-with Sam letting go of her hand only for the few seconds it took him to shift gears.

He let out a shuddering breath. "Later . . . when everybody's had a chance to rest up, we'll go have a talk with Doc-figure out how this thing's going to work. We've got to get our stories straight, so people don't end up wondering how I managed to serve in every branch of the military or in wars that happened when I was eight years old. I know people'll figure out the truth sooner or later, but the longer I can put it off, the better."

"Doc said he'd . . . he'd help. He was . . . looking forward to it."

"He said that?"

"Y-yes."

"Hmph. I bet that old buzzard's got some tricks up his sleeve I'd never think of."

"He likes you, Sam. He wants to . . . to be your friend."

"Well, the feeling's mutual. So when we're through talking to him about how to keep Bourner's Crossing in the dark about me, the two of you can start making plans to look for another partner to work with you."

"That . . . could take a while. It's hard to find people w-willing to live . . . th-this isolated."

"It better not take too d.a.m.ned long." He flashed her a heated look. "This town's about to find out your priorities have been rearranged."

Her vision suddenly became very watery.

A half a minute later, Sam continued. "I bet Marty could come up with somebody. He's good at solving problems n.o.body else can solve. Besides, then I'll owe him one, and that'll make him feel better. Can't have my friends walking around feeling guilty on my account."

"Sam, I don't think I can wait anymore to-"

"Hang in there, honey." He slammed the Jeep to a halt in front of the cabin and, seconds later, pulled her out of it and into his arms. "I know the next line's mine. And I know you've waited all night to hear it, thinking you weren't ever going to hear it. I'm sorry for that Katie. I'm sorry you had to go all this time hurting." Swearing softly, he added, "But I couldn't have done this right in an airport. And I couldn't have done it at all yesterday. If I'd tried, I'd have ended up hurting you worse than I did."

"Oh, Sam." She bit back a sob, her fingers digging into his arms to keep from falling as the last sc.r.a.p of courage and strength drained out of her.

"Katie, honey, it's all right," he tried to tell her.

But the tenderness in his husky voice only made her cry harder. When her knees buckled, he lifted her to take her inside, kicking the door shut and carrying her straight to the bedroom. Standing her beside the bed, he tugged off her jacket, shrugged out of his own, and wrapped her against him once more.

The morning sunshine, filtering through the green leaves, lit the room with a soft, golden light, but the only light she saw was the clear light in his eyes as he tilted her face to kiss away the tears running down her cheeks.

"Katie . . . honey, please, don't cry," he said. "I promise, it's going to be all right."

She hadn't a coherent thought in her head, yet she was exquisitely aware of the difference in textures as she touched his face, his hair, the broad expanse of his chest against which her face was buried. "Sam, I h-have to cry. I won't b-believe this is real if I don't."

"Then you go ahead," he murmured, "and I'll just keep kissing you. . . . G.o.d, I love kissing you." His gentle, stirringkisses were being laced more and more with pa.s.sion, his mouth opening on her skin, his lips tugging at her earlobe, his teeth nibbling at her shoulder.

Finally she had to ask, "Why? Sam, I don't . . . understand why you-"

"Why I'm standing here kissing you instead of . . ." Instead of finishing the sentence, he gave the suitcase sitting beside them on the floor a shove with his foot.

She raised her head from his chest to look at him, and as their gazes met, her breath caught in her throat. She'd wanted him, but she'd never truly seen him-not all of him. Not like this. His eyes, those beautiful prisms of gray light, had given her glimpses of a man she'd come to love, but they had never before reflected such certainty, such sureness of heart. This was a man, whole and intact, who knew his mind and who had a purpose. And that purpose was . . .

Her fingers trembled as she raised them to his face, and he covered her hand with his own, turning his head to bury his lips in her palm.

"Yesterday," he began, "you said, if I ever put my hands on you again, I'd better be ready to marry you. But, Katie, I wasn't ready. Not until I realized that, of all the things I was scared of, the worst would be facing the rest of my life, and all of eternity, knowing I'd lost you."

"Oh, Sam." She slid her arms around his waist, holding him tightly as he continued.

"I wouldn't be here this morning if last night hadn't happened. If Eric Nielsen hadn't shown up at the door and we hadn't ended up having to fly to Marquette, I'd have left. But sitting in that plane, staring down that d.a.m.ned black field . . . Katie, I realized, if I walked away from you, it wouldn't just be the worst mistake I'd made since I got here. It'd be the worst mistake I'd ever made in my life."

Framing her face with his hands, he told her, "n.o.body's ever said they loved me." And when her eyes widened a little, he shook his head. "Not because there haven't been people who might have. But because I 've never given anybody the chance."

How could she have been so blind? She'd always known he'd probably never said the words himself, but surely, she'd thought, someone-some woman who believed she could tie him to her-had said them to him. But, no. When Kate thought about all the times she could have told Sam she loved him, all the times she'd thought he wouldn't accept it-the times she'd been afraid to tell him for fear of having her love rejected- she saw how it could be that he'd gone thirty-eight years without hearing the words. And, suddenly, that last, fierce kiss that she'd thought meant goodbye came to mean something else, something precious.

She started to say, "I should have told you when we-"

"No." He stopped her with a quick kiss. "You picked the right time, just like you always do. Hearing the words then, when I most needed to hear them-" He drew a ragged breath. "I can't explain what it did to me. But I can tell you, I'd never have gotten that plane off the ground if you hadn't said it. I swear, Katie, nothing has ever made me feel as good inside as knowing you love me-nothing, except . . ." His gaze fell to watch his fingertip trace her lips, then rose to meet hers again as he said, "Except knowing I love you."

Her lips formed his name, but no sound escaped past the tightness in her throat. The look in her tear-filled eyes spoke for her, though, as, one by one, he pulled the clips from her hair. He caught the heavy curtain as it fell, angling her head as he lowered his. And then he kissed her, his mouth taking hers with a devastating tenderness, making the tears stream down her face and leaving her weak and trembling.

"I love you." His lips tugged at hers in between rough-spoken phrases. "And I love kissing you . . . and making love with you . . . and just being with you. . . . I love having you flywith me. And I love helping people together, the way we did, last night. But most of all"-his mouth covered hers for a brief, deep joining-"Oh, honey, I love telling you I love you and having you melt like this, all over me. Marry me, Katie. Let me tell you I love you for the rest of our lives."

"Oh, Sam . . ." She turned her face into the pocket of warmth where his neck met his shoulder. "Yes, I 'll marry you. And I'll move to the desert with you, if you want to go back. I'd never ask you to fly helicopters when you really want to fly planes with names like Pegasus."

"We're not going anywhere," he growled. "And I don't want you believing it's some big sacrifice on my part, either. I came here thinking I needed some temporary peace and quiet, but I'm starting to see that it's got to be permanent. I think I'm always going to need a place like this-a quiet place I can call home, where I can pay attention to what's going on inside me without a lot of distractions from the outside."

A trace of humor crept into his voice as he added, "If I feel like I'm getting lazy and need a challenge, I 'll make a trip down to Mojave and tell Chris I want to take his latest toy up for a spin. But, honest, I think the chances of that happening are about zero, because I've got all the challenges I'm going to need or want right here."

His hands roamed her back and hips, lingering on the curves. "This is a good place, with good people. A good place for a pilot to make a living or to be useful in an emergency-or just to enjoy flying for its own sake. It's a good place to meet kids with hearing problems or braces on their legs. And it's a good place for me to learn more about this new envelope I've been given. I think I'm ready, now, to see how far I can make it stretch-which, from what they told me at the research center, could be a lot further than I've stretched it up until now."

As his lips nuzzled at her temple, he added, "I think I'm going to be able to stretch myself in all sorts of new directions, being married to a woman who loves me and understands what I'm about, and who seems to know just what it takes to keep me sane. And besides all that"-his hands slid down her sides to tighten on her waist-"she likes to fish . . . and to mess around in planes . . . and she makes love like no other woman I've ever known. And from what she tells me"-his hand slipped between them to slide across her belly"-yeah, I've got a feeling she's going to give me the prettiest, dimple-cheeked babies a man could ever want."

Kate squeezed her eyes closed, whispering against the pulse in his neck, "Sam . . . Oh, Sam, can you really . . . ?"

"Oh, yeah," he whispered back. "I can really."

She hadn't dared ask, hadn't dared hope or even let herself think about it for fear she'd be one of those his touch wouldn't heal. But hearing the certainty in his voice brought the words, and the tears, pouring out of her.

"Oh, Lord, Sam, I do love you, and I'll make you such a good wife. I promise, I will."

"You think I don't know it? You think I'm not going to wonder every day of my life how I got this lucky? Katie, I swear to G.o.d, I'm going to do my best to be the kind of husband you deserve."

"Oh, I know. I know you will."