STARTING OVER (8 page)

Rusty pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it toward the patio. "Well, Susan. Are you ready to find out what sort of monster is lurking beneath the surface?"

Susan nodded, but she seemed to be having a difficult time taking her eyes off Rusty's sun-bronzed torso. Kate smiled and settled back against the cushions of her chair. As long as the sound of Rusty and Susan's laughter and conversation filled the air, Kate was happy. With a motherly satisfaction, she watched them work together. They made an attractive couple, and she had high hopes they would recognize that fact. As long as they didn't forget about her completely. She needed all the friends she could get right now.

"OUR PILOT WILL BE READY to leave at 7:00 a.m. Thursday. Yes, and he can make another run next Thursday." Kate flipped the pages on her appointment calendar and jotted a quick note. "Thank you for calling C-Breeze." She hung up the phone and heaved a pleased sigh as she leaned back in her chair.

"Another one?" Rusty asked, closing the office door behind him. Although he hadn't heard any of the conversation, he apparently guessed the source of delight in her expression.

"Yes, another one," she repeated, relishing every word. "
Southoil's number ninety-one, day after tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. It's a shift change. Not only that, but they've scheduled ahead for next week and all but promised that this would become a regular crew transport."

"Terrific!" he exclaimed, slapping his palms on the top of the desk as he leaned toward her. A wide, triumphant grin matched hers inch for inch. "That means we have a job scheduled for every day of the week except Saturday and Sunday for the next month."

"I'd like to know what you said to those companies. Poor Doug spent as much time on the road trying to attract customers as he did in the air servicing them. Then you walk in, make a few calls, and we have jobs stacking up."

Rusty shrugged, unable to explain the reason for the difference and unwilling to speculate on it . . . at least out loud. The same thought had already occurred to him, but he didn't feel it was prudent to point out to Kate that perhaps her husband hadn't been as good a businessman as she believed. Perhaps it was Doug's personality that had affected the company's success. If he had been too brash or aggressive, he might have annoyed one dispatcher too many.

But it was difficult to associate an unlikable man with Kate. Surely she wouldn't have married anyone who was obnoxious. There must have been some other reason C-Breeze had gone into a decline. Tardiness, unavailability or price could have contributed to the problem. Or maybe Doug had been a hot dog in the air.

Rusty had flown his share of missions in Iraq, and he knew quite a few veterans who were excellent pilots. But some still flew as if they were swooping over a hostile village, intent on escaping enemy gunfire rather than carrying a domestic load across a peaceful bay. If weary crew members had been frightened once too often, their complaints might have contributed to C-Breeze's unpopularity.

But whatever the cause, Rusty wouldn't hear anything from Kate that might implicate Doug, for two reasons. She obviously didn't know what had been going on, and she had no doubts about Doug's skill as a pilot or a business manager. It was evident that she practically worshiped the memory of her late husband, and in her eyes, he could have done no wrong.

So Rusty kept his suspicions to himself, waiting for something positive to surface. After all, now that C-Breeze was back in the air, it didn't really matter, anyway.

"What do you feel like having for lunch today?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm not really hungry."

"Now don't start that with me, or I'll call your mother. That baby is taking what it needs, but it's your job to keep yourself healthy and strong."

Oh no."
Kate moaned. "She's gotten to you. When did you talk to my mother?"

His eyes sparkled with conspiratorial zeal.
"Yesterday when you left early to go to the bank. She seemed to think I would be able to coerce you into eating better. I tried to tell her that you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but she made me promise to see that you ate at least one good meal a day."

"Did you tell her that I've put on ten pounds in the three and a half weeks you've been working for me? Did you mention the hot doughnuts you bring to the office every morning or the bags of food you bring with you every evening when you come to my house for a swim?"

"I tried, but your mother is a lot like my mother—they don't hear our positive comments when they've already made up their minds about a subject. And right now, your mother's convinced that you need someone to keep an eye on you."

Kate smiled at him, an indulgent, grateful smile that told him she appreciated his concern and his understanding. "You've been a big help, both here at C-Breeze and for me, personally."

He didn't take compliments as smoothly as he took teasing, and he tried to dismiss her words with a careless, "It's no big deal. I haven't done anything anyone else wouldn't have done in the same circumstances."

Kate didn't bother to point out that most employees didn't wait patiently for their paychecks until the first payments had started coming in. Most employees didn't follow her home from work each evening so she wouldn't have to enter an empty house, even though she had taken his advice about leaving a television on while she was at work. And most employees didn't spend their weekends mowing her grass and trimming her hedges, as well as doing all the other heavy
chores around her house without being asked because he knew she couldn't afford to hire other help.

Sure, he got a few free home-cooked meals out of the deal, and he had use of her pool whenever he wanted. But the long after-work hours he spent taking care of her and his constant attentiveness to her needs went beyond a normal employee/employer relationship. Almost from the moment he walked into her life, he had been a dear and trusted friend.

Who could explain how two people could meet for the first time yet feel a kindredship that was timeless? With the seven-year difference in their ages, Kate would never have guessed they would have so much in common. And even those things they didn't agree on were so trivial that they weren't worth arguing about.

Lunch was not usually something they disagreed about, but today, Kate knew she had a task ahead that totally killed her appetite. "Look, if you won't tell my mother that I've skipped lunch today, I won't tell your mother that you've been dating the same woman for the past three weeks."

"Susan? She's a nice lady, and we've had a few laughs, but it's nothing serious."

"Why not?
I thought the two of you got along great." Kate was really disappointed to hear her plan had failed. She had assumed everything was going beautifully between her two friends.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "She's everything you said she was, but there're no sparks or shooting stars."

"Aren't you expecting too much? I think we outgrow sparks and shooting stars when we're seventeen."

His expression became solemn, almost pitying. "I sure hope not. I've been looking for those sparks and stars all my life. What a disappointment to find out they don't exist . . . or that I'm too old."

"For a man who doesn't want to fall in love, you have the soul of a romantic."

"I suppose the myth of finding a perfect match is alive and well. I don't really believe in it, but if it does happen, I want it all—the love, the laughter and the happily ever after."

"Well, I wish you luck." Kate breathed a wistful sigh. "But I don't think there is any such thing as happily ever after."

"Maybe not," he agreed, his voice now edged with doubt.

Several long, quiet moments passed as each considered their own interpretation of happily ever after. When Rusty spoke again, the lightness had returned to his tone. "This subject is too deep to contemplate on an empty stomach. I'll be back in a half hour or so. And I'm bringing you food whether you want it or not."

Kate knew it was useless to argue with him, so she said, "At least let me pay for it. Your salary isn't large enough to be so magnanimous."

"Ah, but that's all changing. We should have checks rolling in from all the jobs we've done."

Kate eyed the bills that had been sorted into stacks denoting the level of urgency for payment. "Things are looking better, but..."

"So many bills, so little money," he interjected.

"I'm not sure how long it will take to catch up on all these. Some have been overdue for almost six months." She ran her fingers through her hair in a gesture of despair. "I'm amazed some sort of legal action hasn't been taken on a few of them. I've been sending everyone a little, just to let them know I'm trying."

Rusty picked up a handful and flipped through the notices, A low whistle escaped his lips as he noted the amounts. "I don't mean to be too nosy about your personal finances, but how on earth did you run up charges like these? There must be a half dozen different VISA and MasterCard bills in here."

A faint blush colored her cheeks as she answered, "I had no idea we owed so much
to so many. I didn't realize we had more than one VISA card. Doug must have applied for the others when he got desperate for money to keep the company alive."

"I can't see how you could run up such high balances. Your helicopter was practically brand-new, so there shouldn't have been much expense for repairs. And if you weren't making very many daily runs, the fuel bills shouldn't have been too bad. Have you checked the charges to see what they're for?"

"No, I haven't had time. And I haven't been able to find but a few of the statements." She frowned. "It was probably a blessing in disguise when that secretary quit. Apparently, she never went near the file cabinet. And Doug was never very good at balancing the checkbook. I'm not sure why he insisted he handle our finances . . . masculine pride, I suppose."

"At some point he should have admitted he wasn't doing such a terrific job and asked for help."

Kate's reply was instant and defensive. "Doug started this business from scratch and ran it very successfully for years. It wasn't his fault the oil slump hit this area so hard. My husband lived for C-Breeze. He spent twenty-four hours a day worrying about it and trying to survive the crisis." She indicated the piles of bills with a wave of her hand. "And he suffered through having to face these awful payments every month without telling me because he was afraid I would think he had failed."

To both Rusty and Kate's dismay, she burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that about him," Rusty apologized with nervous profusion. "I'm sure he thought he was doing the right thing at the time. Hindsight is always more sharper than foresight. Here now, stop crying, and I'll try to think of some way to keep the bill collectors from breathing down our necks until we can bring in enough to get rid of these."

She sniffled and took the tissue he handed her. I didn't mean to sound so hostile. It's just that I wish Doug had let me share this problem with him. I can understand what a burden it was, and he dealt with it for a couple of years while I've known about it for only a month."

"I'll be right back. Maybe it won't look so bleak after we've eaten lunch," Rusty suggested hopefully.

HE CAJOLED her into choking down the roast beef sandwich he brought her. But while he was gone, the stacks had actually grown because the mailman had made an unwelcome delivery.

"Do you mind if I take a look at the checkbook?" Rusty asked as he placed a chair in front of her desk and sat down.

She shook her head and turned the ledger around so he could see the figures.

"Okay, so we don't have a lot to work with," he mused. "Which bills have to be paid immediately?"

"Tomorrow is the first day of the month, which means the house payment is due. The electric bill can wait until next week . . . and the telephone bill. But I'm going to have to make a payment on the Cadillac. It's almost four months overdue...."

"The Cadillac?" Rusty's puzzled gaze lifted to her face, then moved to pointedly stare through the window at the battered yellow economy car that she drove to work each day. "Are you making a joke?"

She didn't understand his confusion until she followed the line of his vision. "No, I mean the Cadillac that's parked in my garage."

"Excuse me," he drawled, looking back at her. "You have a Cadillac in your garage, but you drive that pile of bolts around town?"

Again the tears flooded her eyes, and she struggled to keep them from overflowing. "It was Doug's car. He loved it so much. He babied it as if it were a child, washing and waxing it every weekend. I can't bear to drive it." A shiver shook her. "I can't even stand to see it. That's why I don't go into the garage."

"How long had be had it?"

"Not very long..." She shrugged as she mentally counted backward to the month he had purchased the car. "He bought it last September when the new models came out."

Rusty frowned. "But how could he justify such an extravagance? He obviously couldn't afford it."

Once again Kate felt compelled to rush to Doug's defense. "Doug needed a good car because he was on the road so much. And he thought it would be good for the business to keep up our image, as well as having a nice vehicle to use when he took executives out to dinner or someplace for a meeting."