Opening the door, she stepped into the office. “Duke, I—” She stopped as soon as she realized it wasn’t Duke standing there, but Scott O’Halloran.
“Morning,” he greeted her cheerfully. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee and didn’t bother to look up.
Her smile quickly faded. “Where’s Duke?”
“Sleeping in, I assume.” Scott finally glanced up. “I’m taking the morning flight.”
Chrissie hesitated, unsure what to do.
He reached for a clipboard and headed out the door. He paused when she didn’t follow. “You coming or not?” he asked, as if it was of little concern to him. “I’m leaving now. I have some deliveries to make in Fairbanks.”
Chrissie figured she didn’t have any choice. She might as well get used to being around Scott, no matter how uncomfortable she felt.
Climbing into the plane, she was relieved when Scott immediately placed a pair of headphones over his ears. Making polite conversation with him would have been difficult, and at least he’d circumvented any requirement to do so. He ran through a flight-check list before starting the engine of the Lake LA4 amphibious plane. He could have been flying alone for all the attention he paid her.
Frankly, that was the way Chrissie wanted it. Yet when they soared into the endless blue skies toward Fairbanks, she found herself wishing circumstances could’ve been different. This wasn’t the first time she’d flown with Scott; she’d been in the air with him dozens of times. In Hard Luck planes were equivalent to cars anywhere else. More than one summer’s afternoon had been spent flying to nearby lakes for a refreshing swim.
The first time he’d ever kissed her had been underwater. They’d done plenty of kissing above water, too. Chrissie closed her eyes, not wanting to remember.
At the first sign of Fairbanks, she relaxed, grateful to be close to her destination and away from the confines of the plane. Away from Scott. His landing was smooth, a greaser as the pilots called it, and the aircraft came down gently, touching the tarmac with barely a jolt.
“Nice landing,” Chrissie said when Scott removed the headphones.
“Thanks.”
“Will you be flying me back tomorrow afternoon?” Not that it mattered, but she wanted to know.
“My name’s on the schedule.” He unlatched the door and climbed out, his jaw noticeably tight—as though her question had angered him.
Refusing to allow his mood to intimidate her, Chrissie opened her own door and climbed down the wing, rejecting Scott’s offer of assistance. Once firmly on the ground, she slipped her backpack over her shoulders and straightened. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
He nodded curtly.
Without another word, Chrissie turned and started toward the terminal.
“Have fun with your boyfriend,” he called after her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Boyfriend? She couldn’t imagine where he got that idea. Chrissie thought about explaining that she was mentoring a twelve-year-old girl, then changed her mind. Perhaps it was for the best if Scott believed she was involved with another man. Not many people knew about her work with the experimental foster-care program. Her parents, of course, and Tracy. She’d briefly mentioned it to Ben’s wife, too, but none of the details; she’d only referred to visiting Joelle on a particular weekend.
Joelle’s group home was a foster-care program being tested by the state. School-age children were placed in a situation similar to a boarding-school facility. Each student was assigned a volunteer mentor from the community, who spent time with the child, encouraging and listening.
Chrissie had been working with Joelle for two years and had grown to love the quiet soft-spoken child. At first it was all Chrissie could do to get the painfully shy girl to speak above a whisper. Gradually, over time, thanks to the support of the group home and the trust Chrissie had built, Joelle grew more confident. Chrissie could hardly recognize the child she’d first met in the smiling chattering girl Joelle had become.
“I leave at four o’clock sharp,” Scott shouted.
“I’ll be on time,” Chrissie responded, tossing the words over her shoulder.
“See that you are,” he snapped, “or I’ll leave without you.”
His parting shot annoyed her, and she jerked open the heavy glass door leading to the terminal. Her frown quickly changed to a smile as Joelle raced toward her. “Chrissie, Chrissie!” the girl shouted. “Guess what? I got an A on my essay for English!”
Chrissie enveloped the girl in a hug as a surge of joy and triumph rushed through her. Joelle had come so far, and Chrissie couldn’t help feeling a personal pride in the progress she’d made. Every accomplishment was significant, Chrissie knew; every accomplishment took her farther from her disadvantaged past and toward a hopeful future.
“Oh, Joelle, I’m so proud of you.” Simple words, spoken with heartfelt sincerity, and it was a wonder to see the smile on the girl’s face.
“I’ve got a busy weekend planned for us,” Chrissie told her.
Joelle wrapped an arm around Chrissie’s waist. “I brought my paper if you want to read it.”
“You bet I do,” she told her, and they walked out of the terminal together.
FOUR O’CLOCK Sunday afternoon, as promised, Chrissie was back at the airport. Two days with Joelle, and she was exhausted. A friend who worked as a flight attendant for one of the airlines let Chrissie use her apartment. The arrangement worked well for them both. Jackie usually had weekend assignments, and whenever she was on duty, Chrissie watered her plants and brought in her mail.