The Single Dad's Guarded Heart

Marlee felt a twitch. Her mother-in-law had rules on top of rules. But this one made sense, and was one Marlee would have instituted if she had raised her daughter. “Thank you for checking with me first, Jo Beth. You don’t know Mary and Finn, but I’ve known them since I was little.”

“Then, yes, please.” The child carefully set the big gold cat onto the porch and slid out of her chair. Mary waited until the screen door closed to address Marlee’s question. “I’ll go on record straight away. I think Wylie’s gotten a bad rap. No one knows for sure what happened to his wife. He’s not much of a talker. But the kind of man who’d trek in here on snowshoes in the dead of winter, him carrying an infant son in a front pack, just to see how a couple of old folks are getting along, isn’t a man who’d mistreat a woman. I know him to be generous, honest and polite. Wylie’s raised his boy to be the same. And something else… those two rescue and treat injured animals. That doesn’t mesh with the rumors of foul play.”

“Was his wife’s disappearance investigated?”

“By whom? Rangers are more or less police themselves. Did something happen over at Wylie’s?” she asked.

Marlee spent a moment in thought. “Actually, no. It’s just that Pappy Jack mentioned the rumors, too. I have to say, though, I didn’t find Ranger Ames sociable.”

“Jo Beth said he served you two lunch.”

A ghost of a smile flickered at one corner of Marlee’s lips. “Dean invited us to stay. His dad tried every way possible to wiggle out. Lunch was delicious but far from the most comfortable time I’ve ever spent. Saying he’s not much of a talker may be too big of a stretch.”

As Jo Beth skipped out of the house, her mother’s smile broadened. “I was about ready to send out a search party. What took you so long to wash?”

“I saw another fluffy kitty and stopped to pet her. Gosh, that cake looks yummy.”

Mary patted a chair. “Climb up, and dig in. See if it tastes as good as it looks.”

Rising, their hostess excused herself to fetch Jo Beth’s milk. When Mary returned, the three ate slices of cake while the adults discussed how much Northwest Montana had grown in the years Marlee had been away.

“Growth’s another reason Finn’s talking of selling out. Used to be word of mouth brought in enough guests for us to make a decent living. Now there’s a resort, a lodge, or bed and breakfast in every scenic byway.” Mary stacked her plate and Marlee’s as she talked. “Owners have to advertise with the tourist bureau, the Ranch Vacation Association and the Board of Outfitters. We’re told we need a Web site that’s accessible through the chambers of commerce of nearby towns. People used to just call and book a cabin, and ask if Finn had time to show them the best fishing holes. Now they ask if we have certified river guides, liability insurance and oh, a lot of silly stuff. It’s like they want to claim they’re roughing it, but their kids demand cable TV, DVD rentals, a hot tub and swimming pool.”

Marlee shook her head in commiseration. “And in the few days I worked on Mick’s books, I saw how property taxes have tripled.”

Inside the house a phone rang. Mary excused herself and went to answer it.

“Are you almost finished with your cake, Jo Beth? Nice as this visit’s been, I want to head home before much more of the day slips away.”

The girl’s lower lip protruded. “I want to stay and play with the dogs. They like me, Mama. See, they’re all waiting for me to be done eating.”

Marlee glanced down at the ring of eager pet faces. She thought it more likely the animals were hoping for a crumb.

Mary burst out of the house clutching a cordless phone. “Marlee, it’s Pappy for you. Gordy Maclean has been gored by a rogue bull at his ranch near Whitefish Lake. Angel Fleet called to see if Mick would fly him to the Kalispell hospital.”

Marlee’s stomach dropped. She accepted the phone with a shaky hand. “Pappy, Marlee here. Mick said he’d ask Angel Fleet to remove Cloud Chasers from their roster until he’s able to fly again.”

The old man either wasn’t hearing the fear in Marlee’s voice or else he didn’t understand. She didn’t want to handle mercy flights. Her grandfather kept repeating Angel Fleet’s request. Finally, he took a breath and said, “Twin, here’s the deal. There’s no other plane available. Gordy’s wife told Angel Fleet he’s gonna bleed to death if somebody doesn’t transport him to a hospital fast.”

Marlee was rattled further by that news. The last thing she needed was for Jo Beth to see anyone else on the verge of dying. “Pappy,” she began, but he had hung up.

The cake and coffee Marlee had just consumed balled in the pit of her stomach along with the gumbo she’d eaten at Wylie’s.

“Are you all right, Marlee?” Mary collected the phone, which was sliding from the younger woman’s grasp. “Are you worried about landing without an airstrip? Gordy will have harvested his wheat. I think you can land in his field. If you look at Finn’s wall map, you’ll see exactly how to reach Gordon’s ranch. Will that help?”

“Probably.” Marlee stood on legs that felt pulpy. She concentrated on the issue front and foremost. No other plane was available. She tried not to think about what Pappy had said about a man maybe bleeding to death.

“Jo Beth, we need to make another stop. Please go to the bathroom if you can, and hurry.”

The girl scuttled off while Marlee checked the map showing an excellent overview of the northwest woods. She mentally logged coordinates. “Mary, thanks for the refreshments. If you’ll send Jo Beth out, I’ll go warm up the plane.”

Her daughter appeared before Marlee had climbed aboard. She boosted her in and helped settle her earphones.

Before Marlee taxied to the end of the runway for takeoff, she radioed Pappy. “This is Arrow one-three-six-niner. Come in home base.” Her radio crackled. “Pappy, I’m in transit to Maclean’s. Do you have any other word on the patient? Out.”

Pappy didn’t answer until after Marlee was fully airborne. “Affirmative on first directive. Negative on second.”

Marlee would’ve asked if he’d spoken with Mick today, but Pappy cut off their transmission. She’d heard a woman’s voice in the background. Probably Mrs. Gibson, the occasional housekeeper Mick had arranged to keep tabs on Pappy.

If she had to fly the injured man to Kalispell, she’d stop by and see Mick. It’d be good for Jo Beth to visit her uncle, and see him improving. Each hospital stay of Cole’s he’d gone progressively downhill.

The Maclean ranch had been hollowed out of an aspen grove. White-barked trees were resplendently decked in yellow and gold. Grassy fields were thick with cattle. Marlee banked and came around for a sweep at a lower altitude.

Mary Glenroe had suggested she land on wheat stubble, but Marlee spotted a gravel road running from the house to the barn and beyond to lodgepole pine corrals. There was room to set down there as long as the people who’d run out of the house didn’t get in the way. A huge yard flanked all four sides of a two-story farmhouse. If the grass wasn’t too soft it’d give her room to turn around and be headed outbound again.

She executed another perfect landing, and once again said to herself, Wylie Ames take that! Not that she gave a damn what Ranger Ames thought about her piloting acumen.

“Jo Beth, don’t unbuckle. Here comes our patient.” Two men were carrying him out of the house. “Honey, I just need a minute to assess his condition, then we’ll leave.”

A dark-haired woman and a girl of about fourteen ran up to Marlee as she exited the plane. Worry had settled in the woman’s eyes. “Angel Fleet said we should expect Mick Callen. I pray to heaven you’ve come to move Gordon.”

“I’m Mick’s sister. Did Angel Fleet happen to say if they’ve arranged for an ambulance to meet us at Kalispell airpark?”

“The dispatcher said they’d handle everything. My son and our hired hand tore up a sheet and wrapped Gordy’s chest real tight. But the blood has soaked through. I’m so worried. Is it okay if Josh goes with his dad? He’s old enough—sixteen.”

“The problem is, Mrs. Maclean, I have my daughter with me, and this is the smallest of Mick’s planes. Can you tell me approximately what each of them weigh?”

“I’m guessing Gordon’s one-eighty. Josh is maybe one-fifty.”

Marlee did some rapid calculations. “The only space I have available is the cargo area behind the seats. From the look of it, your husband needs to lie flat. I’ll depend on your son to anchor his dad in place on bare floor. Do you have a sleeping bag we can use to cushion him?”

The woman directed the teenage girl to run to the house and check in the hall closet with the camping gear. No one said much thereafter.

The hired hand and Maclean’s son worked to stabilize Gordon in the spot where the freight had been. When the man cried out, Marlee took a deep breath and stepped back. Irritated by her uneasiness, she told herself this mercy mission work wasn’t so very different from rescues she’d flown for the navy. Once she made that connection, her jitters dissipated.

“He’s not far from help now,” she said to Mrs.

Maclean in much the same way she’d reassured field medics who’d entrusted her to save lives.

However, her discomfort with the situation returned when she had to gather speed across the lumpy gravel road. As stoic as Maclean had tried to be when the younger men had manipulated him into the awkward space, his face now turned pasty white and sweat drenched his forehead. Even with earphones on, Marlee heard him scream seconds before she soared aloft. Jo Beth, however, calmly turned sideways in her seat and reached back to pat the injured man’s shoulder.

Marlee dredged up a warm smile for the child. She’d thought Jo Beth needed a break from all reminders of her dad’s long illness. Then Mick had announced he needed surgery, and now this unexpected mission for Angel Fleet. Neither fazed her daughter.

Some fifteen minutes out of the airpark, Marlee sensed more than saw that Gordy Maclean’s breathing had become shallower. What if she lost the first patient placed in her care? She unhooked a fleece-lined jacket Mick had draped over the back of the passenger seat. “Cover your dad with this,” she told Josh, as she coaxed more speed out of the Arrow. She recognized shock. God knew she’d seen enough men and women suffer from it during her two deployments. The big difference now was she wasn’t facing flying bullets.

So why was she a nervous wreck by the time she called the tower at the Kalispell airpark? She consciously restrained any shaking in her voice as she spoke to the controller. “I’ve got a man on board who needs immediate medical attention.”

“We’ve been expecting you, Arrow one-three-six-niner. Ambulance and medic are parked at runway four. You’re cleared to land. Do you have any special requests?”