Authors: Kathy Clark
This was the last flight. All of the rigs had been secured and evacuated. But Cesar was snapping hard on the helicopter's tail, threatening to slam it and its occupants into the frothy water below.
Thick, heavy clouds surrounded them, bringing an early darkness and reducing visibility to practically zero. Trusting his instruments and his instincts, Rusty pushed to out race the hurricane.
The men were talking and laughing, but Rusty could sense the nervousness in their voices. They had been the last five people to leave, and as the helicopter shuddered and seemed to hesitate, the men were surely beginning to doubt their luck would hold.
Rusty hoped they were all praying. As the helicopter became increasingly difficult to control, he realized they would definitely need God's help to get them safely back to land. If Cesar caught them, they wouldn't have a chance against the storm's strength and fury.
He wiped the sweat out of his eyes with his sleeve. They were several miles from shore, and the conditions were worsening by the second. Behind him, the men had fallen silent, lending him their support and willing him to succeed. No one dared voice the concern that they wouldn't make it.
When his instruments showed they were over land, Rusty still felt only the smallest measure of relief. A plummet to the ground would be just as deadly as one into the Gulf, and it seemed that the closer they got, the more difficult it was to steer the helicopter through the down-drafts and microbursts.
Bolts of lightning streaked past and the crash of thunder ricocheted inside the craft, which had never seemed so small and defenseless. The noise of the storm was deafening, even louder than the engine.
Although he knew it was an impossible hope, Rusty's gaze strained through the dense clouds, wishing he could see the welcoming lights of the helipad. He had been so busy he hadn't thought to turn on the extra landing lights and the guard lights wouldn't be visible in these conditions.
When he saw the brilliant glow of spotlights cutting through the darkness, Rusty thought he must have misread the gauges and dials on his instrument panel and was off course over someone else's airfield. But he didn't have time to consider the dynamics of why the lights were on or even whose they were . . . not when he was so close to safety.
The muscles in his arms were taut and jerking from the strain as he guided the helicopter in a tight circle to the ground. As soon as the wheels hit the wet concrete, a chorus of cheers filled the cabin. Somehow he had managed to land them safely on C-Breeze's helipad.
Five very relieved men pounded him on the back, congratulating and thanking him as they hurriedly deplaned. A van pulled up next to the helicopter and the men jumped inside and were soon on their way to their homes and families.
Rusty couldn't summon the energy to move. For several minutes he sat slumped over the stick, his forehead resting on his arms. Outside, the storm raged, and he knew it was too late for him to leave the area. He would have to fold the rotor blades and prepare the helicopter for weathering the hurricane. But his tired, trembling limbs refused to obey.
He had always heard a person's life flashed in front of their eyes when they were facing death. For Rusty, that had only been partially true. He hadn't thought about his career, his college years or even his childhood. Only the past few months had stood out clearly in his mind. And only Kate's face filled his vision.
During the last few miles, it had occurred to him that he might never see her again. He wondered if she'd also been in Doug's final thoughts when he knew he was going to crash. She was still so vulnerable. If she was to suffer another loss so soon after the other one, he wasn't sure what would happen to her. He couldn't do that to her. He had promised not to hurt her. With increased determination to make it, he had held on to the controls with Herculean strength, refusing to allow Cesar to beat him. But now that he was on the ground, he was totally drained.
Through his haze of exhaustion, he realized someone was pounding on the door of the cockpit. Forcing his jellied muscles to respond, he pushed the door open.
Wind whipped rain inside, pelting him in the face with stinging force. Automatically, his eyes closed against the onslaught. When he opened them, he thought perhaps he was having some sort of hallucination.
Before he could react, the person climbed inside and threw her arms around him.
"You made it. I was so worried." she sobbed.
"Kate?" he asked, peering into shimmering blue-green eyes that seemed abnormally large in a face that was almost covered by a bright yellow slicker. "What are you doing here?"
"I was waiting for you," she answered, tenderly wiping his hair back from his damp forehead. "I couldn't stand to be so far away."
He tunneled his fingers through her hair, which was totally drenched in spite of the raincoat, and cradled her head. "The only way I got through this is because I thought you were safely tucked away with your family. You shouldn't be here, but God, I'm glad to see you." His gaze lingered with undisguised adoration on her face while his tightly drawn lips relaxed into a smile.
He kissed her, gently at first, and then with a passion that was unleashed by the desperation of the moment. He crushed her against his chest, equally delighted that he had survived that last grueling flight and that Kate cared enough to want to be with him at a time like this.
But with the pleasure came the realization that now she, too, was in danger. The hurricane was still heading directly for them, and the next twenty-four hours would be a weatherman's nightmare.
Heaving a steadying sigh, he pushed her away as far as the compact cockpit would allow. "How did you get here?"
"I borrowed my mother's car," she answered, her eyes slightly glazed from the intensity of the kiss. "I was going to leave last night, but she talked me into waiting until daylight. I've been sitting around here for the last six hours. Where were you landing between pickups?"
"In a parking lot near the beach so I would be able to have a quicker turnaround. The oil companies had buses waiting for the crewmen as they arrived," he explained, then frowned with an affectionate fierceness. "You're trying to get me off the subject so I won't scold you. But it's not going to work. I've got to stay here in case of an emergency. But you're going to get into that car and head back to Austin. Immediately."
She wiped the wetness off her cheeks, wetness that was a combination of rain and frantic tears. "If you stay, I stay. And you're not going to change my mind, so you might as well give up trying."
He could see the determination in her expression, and he understood her anxiety. Selfishly, he had to admit that he wouldn't mind spending all that time alone with her.
Alone?
How could he have forgotten Shanna?
"Where's the baby?" he asked, glancing toward the office. "We'd better go to her."
"She's fine. Mother's taking good care of her." Kate's dripping shoulders lifted in a slightly defensive shrug. "My mother agreed with you that I shouldn't come here. But when she could see I was definitely leaving, she talked me out of taking Shanna, And while I don't mind weathering the storm myself, I could see the good sense in not bringing a baby into this. Especially if there's a chance of flooding, no power and tornadoes. I wouldn't endanger my child."
He shook his head and rolled his eyes skyward. "But you would do something crazy like endangering yourself." His expression was solemn as he said, "Things could get pretty rough. Are you sure I can't talk you into leaving now while there's still time?"
Kate's smile was serene. "It's already too late. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
Rusty couldn't summon enough genuine remorse to make even the smallest attempt to continue his argument. He had been through several hurricanes, and he knew they were unpredictable. Some lost their strength the minute they moved onto the land, while others became ruthless killers.
A new surge of energy and strength rushed through his body. When he was with Kate, he felt as if he could handle anything. Nothing was too big or too difficult when it affected her. He was her Sir Lancelot, willing to fight her battles and vanquish her dragons.
However, sitting in a helicopter while a major hurricane was rushing toward them was definitely not wise. If they were going to ride the storm out in the area, there were dozens of things they needed to do before Cesar came ashore.
"Okay, Miss Stubborn," he teased. "If you're going to stay, then I'm going to put you to work. While I fold the rotor and chain the helicopter to the pad, why don't you check the office for any files that should be protected. That building might not make it through a high wind. Pack anything you wouldn't want to lose into boxes, and we'll take them with us."
"I've already done that. Don't forget, this isn't the first hurricane I've been through."
"Good, then you can help me with the tethers."
They were both soaked to the skin by the time they had the helicopter locked down and as storm-proofed as possible. Kate had packed income tax and bookkeeping records into four boxes, which she and Rusty loaded into the trunk of her mother's car. Then, with only a brief stop at his
mobile home to pick up some clothes, personal items and another stop at Harry's house to pick up Rebel, Kate followed Rusty's truck through the blinding rain to her house.
The streets were almost deserted, and all the stores they passed were closed and boarded up. Already a few branches had been broken by the strong wind gusts and were scattered in yards and on streets, creating the beginning of what would probably become a major obstacle course before the night was over.
Even with their windshield wipers flicking back and forth at top speed, the driving rain and debris-filled wind obscured their vision, so their progress was slow. The night was unbelievably dark, and with so many people gone, the neighborhoods had very few lights on. As soon as she caught sight of her house, Kate pushed the garage door opener, then steered around Rusty's truck to park inside. She motioned for him to drive into the space where Doug's Cadillac had once sat.
With Rebel following close on their heels, they sprinted across the open breezeway that connected the garage to the house.
Rusty and Kate stared at each other as they stood in the utility room, the water draining in miniature rivers off their bodies.
"Whew, it's really had out there." She peeled the useless raincoat off and hung it on a hook. "I suppose we should take hot showers and get into dry clothes. Then I'll clean the bathtubs and fill them with water in case something happens to the water system."
Rusty agreed, although Kate noticed he was looking at her as if he would love to offer to help her strip out of her wet clothes. Instead, he took a towel off the pile she had left on the washer and began drying Rebel's shaggy brown fur. "You go first. I'll check the patio and put anything that might blow away into the garage."
After they were both clean and dry, they hurried through the house, gathering candles and taping windows. When everything was as secure as possible, they worked together in the kitchen, preparing the first full meal either of them had eaten all day.
All of the televisions in the house were tuned to a Houston station that was giving frequent weather updates on Cesar's progress. He was no longer wavering from his full-speed charge toward Galveston and Freeport. But in spite of the storm's dogged persistence, Rusty and Kate were in an almost festive mood.
"I always wondered why people throw hurricane parties," Rusty commented as he and Kate stood at the sink and loaded the dishwasher.
"I think it's usually because they want an excuse to get skunk drunk."
"I suppose that's why some people do it. But I believe there is a degree of power in defying nature at its worst. I'm aware of the danger, and yet, to witness the wildness and the power of this kind of storm is an awesome experience."
Kate understood what he was feeling, because her adrenaline was pumping, too. She could hear the rain pounding against the windows and the wind wailing around the corners of the brick building. It was so dark outside that she couldn't see anything except during the increasingly frequent flashes of lightning. Thunder followed each strike closely, rumbling with such anger that it vibrated the walls and rattled the dishes in the cabinets.
"How about a game of
Scattergories?" Rusty suggested when the kitchen was clean and all of their emergency supplies had been collected onto a convenient spot on the table. Taking two flashlights and a candle with them, they went into the living room.
"It seems so odd not to have Shanna around," Kate commented as she sat on the floor on one side of the coffee table while Rusty settled on the other. "Although all she does right now is eat and sleep, I sure do miss her."
Rebel, who wasn't liking any part of the storm, followed closely and lay down next to Rusty.
Rusty stretched his legs under the table, moving them until they were resting cozily next to Kate's. She liked the casual intimacy of sharing the space with him and feeling his warmth pressed against her.
"What is she eating now that her food supply is hundreds of miles away?" he asked, his gaze straying pointedly to her full breasts. "Won't this separation change that?"
Kate sighed. That was one of the minuses about leaving Shanna. She really regretted giving up breast-feeding her child, because she knew that by the time she and Shanna were reunited, her milk would have dried up. She had left plenty of formula with her mother.