On Wings of Love (7 page)

What happened to his family wasn’t fair. He should be out playing ball with his son, not visiting his grave. He should be making plans to attend a baseball game instead of wiping the tears from his cheeks. He should…should have. Would have. Could have. A sigh rattled his bones. None of this was going to change anything.

Noah needed to let go. Move on.

If he could.

“Goodbye, Ruth. Thanks for coming.” Margaret Ann’s daughter, Fiona, wiped her tear-laden eyes as they stood under the canopy tent erected by the cemetery staff to shade them. “I really appreciate it. I know my mom does, too.”

With less than a handful of mourners remaining, Ruth stopped, enveloped the slight woman in her arms and hugged her gently. Disappointment still lingered, but Ruth knew Margaret Ann’s memory would live in her heart forever. “I’m sorry I was late and missed the beautiful service. Take comfort in knowing she’s at peace now.”

“And she’s up in heaven with all those children she adored.”

Ruth squeezed Fiona’s hand. “Please let me know if I can do anything for you. Anything at all.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Fiona’s husband of twenty-five years wrapped a comforting arm around his wife. “Are you sure you won’t join us back at the house for refreshments? You’re more than welcome to bring your friend along.”

“Friend? He’s more of an acquaintance, though sometimes…” Ruth’s gaze swept across the cemetery grounds
dotted with shade trees and a few benches until she spied Noah off in the distance with Houston at his side. Even from this distance she could sense his pain with his slumped shoulders and bowed head. Her heart ached for him. She’d started to care for the pilot and wanted to help him through whatever nightmares tormented him. “Really. I’d love to, but I can’t. Unfortunately, I’ve got some unexpected business to take care of. Thanks though.”

Ruth walked away from the grave and stayed on the grass until she’d passed the last parked car along one of the single lanes of pavement that wound through the cemetery. Finally, she cut across the road. Her heels clicked against the asphalt, creating a static rhythm until she reached the other side. She passed a few cemetery maintenance workers taking care of what looked like an irrigation issue. What had Noah so upset?

Only one way to find out. Ruth walked quietly to where Noah now knelt, his fingers tracing the inscription on a grave marker. As she read it, heaviness descended on Ruth, pushing away any chance of feigning ignorance. She swallowed her sob. At least she had her answer to his ever-present sadness.

Ruth’s vision clouded. Michelle Barton. Loving wife and mother. She’d died a little over three years ago just shy of her thirtieth birthday. Her gaze skittered to the next marker. Seven-year-old Jeremy Barton died two days after his mother.

She wiped the tears away with her finger.

A hot, dusty breeze kicked up and played with Houston’s curly hair as he sat next to his owner. Ruth reached out to touch Noah’s shoulder. Would Noah welcome her comforting gesture? His muscles bunched beneath her palm and yet his hand reached up and covered hers for several heartbeats as if afraid to let go.

“Please. Don’t. I can’t.” Noah finally pulled away and shoved a stiff hand through his hair. The blood leached from his face and a nerve ticked along his jaw.

Ruth gasped and dug her short, manicured fingernails into her palm. She’d overstepped her bounds. “I’m sorry for your loss, Noah.”

Noah’s stony silence unnerved her. Seconds ticked by. Then a minute. Only their ragged breathing and the sound of a passing car leaving the cemetery filled the air between them.

His sadness and hurt clung to her. Ruth stumbled away from the bleakness etched in Noah’s features when he twisted around to look at her. He created a symphony of emotions inside her heart with disastrous results.

He stilled loved his wife.

“Ruth. Wait.” Struggling to his feet, Noah whistled for Houston. The terrier dashed after Ruth and beat her to the white truck parked in the shade cast by a row of tall, thin trees. His short, yappy barks seemed to be trying to convey all of Noah’s thoughts, but the dog apparently did a much better job. Ruth scooped him up in her arms and cradled him like a baby.

When the dog licked her face, Ruth’s cautious laughter filled his ears and her hesitant smile chipped at the darkness embedded in his brain. Noah’s footsteps slowed with each step. The hot afternoon sun beat down on his head and shoulders, making him even more uncomfortable as he clicked his remote and unlocked the doors.

Finally at her side, he stopped Ruth from touching the passenger side handle. “Look. Ruth, I—I…please look at me.”

Ruth complied and tilted her head back to gaze up at him. Nothing but her soft, feminine features filled his vision. A
tiny pulse beat wildly in her neck, and her wide generous lips lifted at the corners. Her unique scent blended with the freshly mown grass, wreaking havoc with his equilibrium. Noah found himself slanting toward her. It wouldn’t take much to forget why he shouldn’t get involved.

Noah swallowed and spoke before he lost all reasoning. “For some crazy reason I’m drawn to you, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I’m not ready.”

“I’m not looking either.” Ruth’s whisper held a trace of regret. “Let’s see if we can be friends then.”

“I’d like that.” Noah leaned around her, opened the door and helped her inside. His lips came within centimeters of grazing the top of her head. Who was he kidding?

T
he tension that started at the cemetery continued to rest on Noah’s shoulders five minutes later as he merged back onto the freeway. Friends? Had they just agreed to be friends?

Friends should be able to talk about anything. Anything at all. So why did he struggle to ask the question that had plagued him for three long years. A question he wasn’t sure he wanted answered yet still he had to know.

His attention flipped between his rearview mirror and the side one. Flashing lights of an emergency vehicle caught his eye. His stomach clenched as he flipped on his blinker, slowed down and moved over to the side. An oversize SUV with the AeroFlight name and logo careened by, adding to the tension inside the cab.

“Looks like someone from your office is working today.” Noah’s sarcasm slipped out before he could clamp his lips shut. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Ruth deserved time off. She’d just worked over a twenty-four-hour shift. She’d just said goodbye to a friend. She’d just made a liar out of him because he was more interested
in her in a not-so-friendly way. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. Anyone you know?”

“They went by so fast I couldn’t tell, but it was probably Natalie Stanton. I think she was the on-call person today.” Ruth leaned forward and adjusted the air-conditioning vent away from her.

Noah turned the air down. “The tall brunette?”

“Yes.”

He heard Ruth’s disappointment in that one syllable word. His mood grew even darker. On the last fly-out, Natalie had taken a sudden disliking to him because he didn’t respond to her flirting. And it wasn’t just because of what she did for a living. He’d tried to let her down gently, but he sensed he hadn’t heard the last of her. “Don’t worry. She’s not my type. She asked me out, and I turned her down.”

Seeing the Scottsdale exit ahead, Noah put on his blinker, checked his rearview mirror and slid back into the right lane. He didn’t have much time. Despite the cool air inside the truck, a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. It was now or never. “What does death feel like?”

“Death?” Ruth’s hand stilled on Houston’s back, and her fingers entwined in his fur.
Death?
Her heart took up residence in her stomach. This was not a conversation she’d ever expected to have with Noah. She adjusted her seat belt as if to anchor her more firmly into her seat.

“I don’t know, Noah. I’ve never died before.”

“But you’ve had experience with it.” As they waited for the light to turn green at the bottom of the ramp, Noah’s lips thinned as he looked at her, his skin taut over the hard planes of his cheeks.

She couldn’t see the bleakness in his eyes because of the dark sunglasses, but she knew it resided in the deep,
blue orbs. Ruth digested his words carefully. This had to have something to do with Noah’s wife and son. The need to put his mind at ease consumed her.

“I know about physical death, Noah.” She touched his forearm, and like clockwork, the muscles bunched beneath her hand. “All biological functions cease. I don’t know how it feels though, but I suspect each one of us will approach death differently. For some it will be quick. For others, it could drag on for months or years.”

She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. Rachel’s smiling face stared back at her. A healthy-looking Rachel, not the thin, sick child she’d been before death finally released her spirit into God’s hands. Her twin had suffered so much pain in the end; her passing had been a relief. Bonnie’s death, too.

“Death can also be a blessing. It’s part of the process of life. Every one of us will die.” Ruth opened her eyes and stared at Noah, but his attention was back on the road. Traffic on Scottsdale Road was always a nightmare at this time of day, and she stared out at a sea of brake lights. “Sometimes it happens earlier than planned so it’s important how you choose to live the life given to you.”

Noah didn’t comment on her dialogue, yet his remote expression had returned and his skin paled in the mid-afternoon sunlight. “That’s not what I really want to know. Maybe I should have been more specific. What happens to a donor when they die? What does death feel like for them?”

Ruth chose her words with caution as alarm bells rang inside her brain. His question made her suddenly suspect that either his wife or son or both had been organ donors. Otherwise, why else would Noah ask?

“When a donor dies, he or she experiences what’s
called brain death. It’s the irreversible end of a person’s brain activity.”

“Is there much pain?” Noah’s voice cracked.

Ruth stared at the anguish and pain etched into his features as he struggled with the conversation. She longed to free him from his demons.

“Noah, donation coordinators are called in after the donor is declared brain-dead by a physician. By the time we arrive, there is no pain, no reflexes, nothing. What is this all about?”

“Nothing,” Noah whispered harshly.

Ruth knew she had to give him more time. She bowed her head, clasped her hands and said a silent prayer.

“How can you believe in God when you act at playing God with what you do?” Noah pulled into the rental car lot and parked in a shaded spot not too far from the entrance.

“Playing God? Is that what you think I’m doing?” Ruth’s blood ran cold as she unbuckled her seat belt. He still couldn’t accept her job despite what she’d told him. “I don’t believe I’m playing God at all. I’m an agent of life. We live in a broken world, Noah, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m simply giving someone a second chance when the person who has died is already gone.”

“Then how do you explain how donors are chosen?” His tone raised gooseflesh across her bare arms.

“How donors are chosen? You honestly think—” Turning to face him, she clenched her fists. A tear slipped down her cheek. Even after the few recoveries Noah had flown and the staff he’d met, he still didn’t get it. She suspected he didn’t want to get it. “You really don’t understand the process at all.”

She sensed a war raging inside him when Noah glanced
over at her. “No, I don’t. All I see is a group of medical staff hovering around like vultures watching and waiting to divvy up parts to the highest bidder.”

Vulture. Ruth stared at the man. Sorrow touched her. She couldn’t reconcile this hard, bitter man with the one who’d so tenderly cradled her in comfort earlier.

“No one is chosen for death before they actually die, Noah. It’s unethical. It’s not like, oh, here’s a healthy twenty-two-year-old. Gee, he’d be a great match for a couple of kidneys and a heart that guy needs in room 4. Let’s not try our hardest to save his life so we can harvest his organs. It
doesn’t
work that way.”

Her fingers tightened around her purse strap, rivaling the color of the tan leather. Ruth bit her lip. Noah’s reaction confirmed her earlier suspicions that someone close to him had been a donor. “I can understand your reaction, Noah, and I’m sorry. I think a lot of people have that misconception. I don’t want to hurt you, only help you. Can’t you see that?”

“You have no idea what I went through.”

Ruth reached out to touch Noah’s arm again. “No, I don’t know what you went through. But I know all about losing a close family member.” Images of Rachel flitted through her mind’s eye again, like a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. Rachel laughing. Rachel running. Rachel and Ruth curled up in bed as they read a book together. “My twin sister died a long time ago awaiting a transplant before they became really routine.”

Silence.

Ruth could almost feel Noah’s guilt and his hostility. “Why did you sign the contract with AeroFlight then if you felt this way?”

“I didn’t. Brad did. The only reason I’m doing it is
because I can’t afford not to, not because of some misguided sense that it
benefits humanity
.” Noah lashed out at her, his words stinging like lemon juice on an open cut.

Ruth flinched. Noah hadn’t come to terms with his loss. Sorrow slipped down her cheeks. “One of these days I hope you’ll understand.”

She would never give up helping people in need, whether it was a recipient, a neighbor, a coworker or leading someone to God. But until Noah opened his eyes and his heart and accepted what she had to offer, there could be no future for them no matter how she suddenly wished there was.

An idea blossomed in her brain before she’d managed to get out of his truck. Maybe if Noah understood more about the process, things would somehow change between them. “Noah, would you like to see exactly what it is that I do for the Arizona Organ Donor Network sometime?

“Not interested.”

Ruth turned to face him, compassion lacing her steady voice. “I think you are interested, but you’re too afraid to know that what I do is create hope.”

His features twisted in pain. “You may think you know, but really you know nothing about me and my circumstances.”

“I know that you’re still grieving and in pain and only want to help you. Please. As a friend. God wants to help you, too.” She wanted to help him understand and accept God’s love into his life so that He could carry Noah’s burden for him. But unless Noah made the choice himself, there was nothing Ruth could do.

“God turned his back on me when I needed Him most. I’m not going back.”

Her voice softened as she kept herself from touching
him again. Instead, Ruth dug inside her purse and pulled out a tiny pamphlet distributed by her company.

“Here’s some information that will explain the process.”

“Why are you showing me this? I don’t care. I don’t want to see it.” Noah grabbed the copy and crushed it without even looking at the words.

“I’m sorry my presence is causing you so much pain. I can handle it from here. I’ll see you around.”

Noah reached out, but Ruth had already opened the door and slipped away. He wanted to run after her and apologize, but his feet and tongue wouldn’t cooperate.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t follow her inside the gray stucco building and betray his memories of Michelle. Ruth was and always would be an organ donation coordinator just like the woman to whom he’d signed over Jeremy’s organs. He was a fool to think of her as anything else. He couldn’t cancel the contract because Brad, Seth and Hannah depended on him to keep the company operating. But he also couldn’t let Ruth go. It was as if his body had recognized what his mind couldn’t.

He’d work through his issues. But what would Ruth think if she ever found out about the truth he’d buried so deep inside that not even his partner knew about? He still blamed the doctors for not doing enough to save Jeremy. But ultimately, Noah had signed his son’s death warrant. And that guilt ate at his soul.

The trill ring of the phone forced Noah’s attention back to work Friday. He stopped pacing the tile. It wasn’t helping release his pent-up energy anyway. His gaze skimmed the perimeter of the lobby, which doubled as
Hannah’s office, taking in the stack of payables that still needed to be filed. Not to mention the stack of unopened mail on his office manager’s desk. He pursed his lips. It was unusual for Hannah to leave work piled up.

The phone rang again. Maybe it was a last-minute request by an executive needing to fly out for a weekend getaway. Both Brad and Seth were available and only a call away. Anticipation surged through his veins at the thought of a pending flight. Before the phone could ring again, Noah picked up the phone normally answered by Hannah. “Desert Wings Aviation.”

“May I speak to Hannah Stevenson please?” A female voice inquired.

Disappointment at what he suspected now was a sales call lodged in his throat. His fingers strangled the black receiver. “She’s at lunch. Is there something I can help you with?”

A terse silence hung in the air. The sound of shuffling papers and muted voices in the background caught his attention. His grip tightened as if trying to reach through the line to draw out the person on the other end. Noah stared at the half-dead ivy pushed behind Hannah’s almost-empty tissue box. Something was going on with his office manager.

“No. I’ll try her at home. But please let her know that Dr. Lewis’s office called. It’s important she contact us immediately. Thanks.”

The click resounded in his ear.

A doctor’s office?

Noah yanked out Hannah’s faux leather chair and sat down. Not a pen or paper in sight. His stomach churning, he pulled open the drawer and rummaged for something to write the message on. Noah owned the office, but he still felt like he was invading Hannah’s territory as he peered
through her things. Instead of finding a blank pad inside, his fingers pulled out a thick stack of papers. Some sort of medical research papers by the look of it. His gaze skimmed the top article.

Polycystic kidney disease? He read on about the growth of cysts in the kidneys and how they affected kidney functions and end-stage renal disease. At the realization that Hannah’s health issues had nothing to do with a pregnancy as he’d first thought, he frowned.

Shadows shifted across the wood desk as a cloud passed in front of the sun. Houston sneezed, rose from his spot by the office door and then padded across the floor to sit at Noah’s feet.

Absently, Noah scratched his dog behind the ears as he continued to read. “Houston, we have a problem.”

He grimaced at how that phrase coined all those years ago slipped so easily from his lips. Forcing his gaze away from the papers in front of him, Noah slid the chair back, disgust and concern fighting for space inside his brain.

“Hannah’s sick.” His voice crowded out the silence. Houston cocked his head and raised his ears as if listening. “And she doesn’t have a lot of options.”

Everything all boiled down to one of them.

A transplant.

Nothing short of receiving a donor kidney could cure the disease raging inside her body. A lump formed in the back of his throat at the twist of fate. He forced his clenched fists to relax as he stood. He paced from Hannah’s desk to the window where he could see monsoonal clouds building to the east.

“Why didn’t Hannah tell us about her health problems?” Great. He was talking to his dog again.

The sound of the front door opening interrupted the
silence and the turmoil of his thoughts. Houston ran to greet a tired-looking Hannah after she walked through and dumped her purse beneath her desk.