Anna's Courage (Rose Island Book 1) (29 page)

I passed through the airport entrance and headed to the last hangar where Patricia ran the flight academy. My hands shook as I parked the car and marched to the office, only to find the door locked. Was everyone already gone for the holidays? Would I have to wait until after Christmas to conquer my fear of flying?

Slowly, my pulse returned to normal as it sank in that today would not be the day I flew. Nevertheless, I walked around the side of the hangar and stared at the R-44. As though pulled by an invisible cord, I moved toward the aircraft. How many times in the past had I made this journey?

Reaching the helicopter, I ran my hand over the metal, down to the cowl door. Muscle memory kicked in, and I opened the door to begin my pre-flight safety inspection.

“It’s been a long time,” said Patricia, walking toward me.

I smiled at the older woman. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. Do you have your voucher?”

“No,” I said, surprised and a little bit guilty. “I ran it through the shredder.”

Patricia threw her head back and laughed. “I told that man you wouldn’t appreciate a gift certificate. I told him to buy you a sweater or perfume, but he was adamant, so he left me no choice but to take his money.”

“Serves him right.”

“No kidding,” she said. “But you don’t need a voucher to fly with me. I’ll just charge you for gas. You know that.”

“Thanks. Do you think I can still do it?”

“It’s like riding a bike, honey. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

I looked from Patricia to the helicopter. “You’ll take over if I can’t do it?”

“Yes, but that’s not going to happen.”

I nodded and continued the preflight. Climbing into the pilot’s seat, I put on the safety belt and headset. I ran my hands over the instruments, amazed it felt like yesterday instead of seven years since I’d last sat here.

You can do this. Trust in yourself and your skills. Know that I am with you.

“Let’s fly over your in-laws’ ranch and out to Camp Windham,” Patricia suggested.

“Sounds good.” The summer camp was located about ten minutes away and abutted a large practice field the flight academy often used. Marcus and his sisters had all gone to the summer camp as little kids and worked there during high school.

Turning on the master switch, I exhaled deeply and reminded myself I’d done this plenty of times. I took my time running the system checks and cleared the area. Then it was show time.

Taking a deep breath, I gently lifted the aircraft into a hover, holding it there longer than necessary. A jolt of excitement rushed through me, and I beamed with pride. Pilots compared the skill of hovering to balancing a marble on top of a beach ball, but I’d never had any trouble.

“Okay, hot shot, you’ve proved your point,” Patricia growled. “Let’s see what else you remember.”

I grinned and pushed forward on the cyclic to gain speed. When the machine reached forty-five knots, I pulled back slightly, allowing the helicopter to climb and accelerate.

I followed the river out to the camp, amazed by the spectacular view. To my relief, flying really was like riding a bicycle, and I had no problem keeping my altitude and speed. I’d missed the adventurous woman I used to be and regretted all the years I’d stayed on the ground.

Below, I saw the white caps of the ocean, green fields, deer, and a pair of roseate spoonbills. I thought of Nick and wondered what he would say if he could see me now.

Walter and Luella’s homestead came into view as well as Jillian’s car in the driveway. I waved as I flew over the ranch and continued past the summer camp until we reached the helipad. A hint of fear rushed through me as I thought about landing, but I pushed the anxiety away, determined to be brave even if I didn’t feel like it.

“You’ve got this,” Patricia said. “Keep it into the wind, and you’ll be fine.”

I aligned the helicopter with the pad and reduced the power by slowly lowering the collective. I pulled back on the cyclic to descend, maintaining the heading with the pedals.

Wind from the blades scattered rocks and dirt surrounding the helipad. The tall grass swayed like waves in the ocean. When the skids hit the ground, I let out the breath I’d been holding as a rush of exhilaration washed over me.

I’d been so mad that Nick had tried to fix me with that stupid gift certificate, but getting back in the helicopter was exactly what I’d needed. Regret sank in as I realized he’d been right about flying again. I simply had to try, despite my fear.

What was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t call him back and accept his half-hearted marriage proposal. If he’d been serious, he would’ve proposed properly. He would’ve knelt down on one knee, confessed his undying love, and offered me a ring.

But he hadn’t, and telling him no was the right thing to do.

Still, I couldn’t let this moment pass without sharing it with him. Pulling out my phone, I stared at it, wondering what to say.

“Texting lover boy?” Patricia asked.

I smiled. “Maybe.”

“I remember you always called Marcus after you landed safely.”

Sadness filled me, but it didn’t hurt as much. Even though I would never forget my husband, it was time to move on. Time to kick fear to the curb and take a chance.

Smiling, I fired off a quick text to Nick. “I’m in a helicopter right now. I just flew, and it felt amazing.”

His reply came immediately. “Texting while flying is not safe!”

I laughed. “We’re on the ground.”

“Good. Proud of you.”

I waited for more, and when he didn’t text back, I returned the phone to my pocket.
If we’re supposed to be together, Lord, I know you’ll make it happen. Otherwise, I’ll have faith that this is how things are supposed to be for us right now.

*

Before walking into
church, I checked my phone messages. Still nothing from Nick. Resisting the urge to text him a
Merry Christmas
, I turned off my phone and stuck it in my purse.

I’d flown today, and if that was all that came out of my relationship with him, I was going to be okay.

“Do you think Santa will show up this year?” Travis asked with a wink.

I smiled. “When I talked to Grams this afternoon, she said the church found a replacement.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “She wouldn’t tell me. Maybe it’s the real Santa.”

Travis laughed. “Good one, Mom.”

We entered the church, decorated with green garland and sparkly gold stars. A tall Christmas tree lit with thousands of soft yellow lights stood near the altar.

Travis and I took our usual seats in the front pew with the rest of the Morgan family. Luella gave me a big hug and wished me Merry Christmas.

Across the aisle sat the Woodalls with their new son Colton and a baby girl about the same age as Gabby.

“It’s Christmas Eve!” Colton said in a voice loud enough for the entire congregation to hear.

Carrie smiled at her newly adopted son and gently explained he needed to be quiet in church. But nobody minded. The entire assembly buzzed with anticipation only Scrooge could disapprove of.

The service began with the hymn, “O Come All Ye Faithful.” As I sang, I became very emotional, missing Nick, the girls, Marcus, and my parents. My mother had opted to stay at the hospital with my father, and even though I had the Morgan family beside me, it didn’t seem like Christmas without my own parents.

As for Marcus, I would always miss him, but I was willing to trust that God had a plan.

I had no idea what would happen between Nick and me. He’d returned my text this afternoon, but he’d been silent since then. Maybe our relationship was over.

Or maybe having an entire ocean between us would provide the time and distance we needed to grow our friendship. And maybe in the end, our friendship would develop into something more.

I loved Nick, and I loved those girls. I already missed them and I didn’t want to lose them, but like I’d told Nick after his impromptu proposal, losing someone wasn’t a reason to get married.

Wanting to make a lifelong commitment was, and that’s what I wanted. That’s what I was ready for, but until he was ready, I’d have to wait. I’d have to live without him and embrace the life God had given me. I’d go back to flying. Back to living my dream.

And through it all, I wouldn’t be afraid. I’d hold my head high and have the courage to overcome my fears and anxiety.

Taking hold of Travis’s hand, I gave it a firm squeeze.

“Ouch, Mom,” he hissed.

“Sorry. I just wanted you to know I love you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know that already, so you don’t have to break off my hand.”

“Do you love me?”

He gave my hand a fierce squeeze. “How’s that for an answer?”

I smiled, my heart bursting with love for this kid I hadn’t planned. He’d been such a joy, especially during the worst time of my life.

Glancing down the pew, I took in the Morgan family. My family. The family that had loved and supported me all these years. I was so fortunate to have them in my life.

The service was beautiful, and right before the last hymn, the pastor asked the congregation to remain seated for a special announcement. “As you know, we’re fortunate to have an important visitor every Christmas Eve.”

“Santa!” Colton shouted, jumping up and down. “It’s Santa!”

The pastor smiled “That’s right. I can see someone has been paying attention. This very special visitor asked us all to pray for Tom Chamberlain, who’s in the hospital tonight, but God-willing, will go home soon.”

I smiled, confident my dad would make a full recovery. The pastor continued. “We all know Santa is very busy tonight. In fact, this is his busiest night of the entire year. But despite his hectic schedule, he still made time to come to church, and I’d like to give him a blessing. Would that be okay?”

All the children, even Travis, shouted a resounding yes. A wave of excitement swept through the congregation, and heads turned to watch Santa make his way down the aisle.

I was almost thirty-years-old, but every year I became swept up in the magic of this moment, and tonight was no exception.

“It’s Santa!” Colton said, bursting with elation. “It’s really him!”

“That’s right,” the pastor said. “Santa has come to church on this most holy night because he understands that being busy is no excuse to stay away from God.”

As Santa came closer, I became highly aware of my pulse.

Something about the way he carried himself seemed familiar. When I saw those beautiful, mesmerizing gray-blue eyes, I had no doubt as to his identity.

V
icki leaned over
and whispered, “Good-looking Santa.”

“It’s Nick,” I said, my voice squeaking.

“Really?”

I nodded. What was Nick doing here at the church playing Santa? Had my father coerced him into coming back? Or had Nick returned on his own?

And more importantly, was he here only to play Santa, or had he come back for another reason as well?

When Nick reached the front of the church, the pastor placed a hand on his head.

Heavenly Father, we ask you to bless this man and his endeavors. Help him to always seek your guidance and rely on your benevolence to do Your Will. Protect him tonight and give him the strength to accomplish his mission. Amen.

“Amen!” Colton shouted, causing the gentle sound of laughter to echo through the church.

“Okay,” the pastor continued, “we can’t keep Santa any longer. As you know, he has a lot of work ahead of him tonight, so let’s all stay in our seats and sing our closing hymn as he leaves.”

Colton Woodall rebelled by flying out of his pew and flinging himself at Santa. Nick embraced the child, then bent down and whispered something in his ear.

“Yes, sir,” Colton said, running back to his mother.

Nick turned to leave, but before he did, he looked directly at me and winked. My heart leapt out of my chest, and it took every ounce of self-control not to follow Colton’s example by throwing myself at Nick.

The music began, and as the congregation sang “Joy to the World,” I had visions of grabbing Colton’s hand and sprinting through the church to find Santa.

When the song finally ended, Vicki squeezed my arm. “Don’t trample any little kids, okay?”

I smiled and pulled free. I had to reach Nick. Had to find him before . . . before what? Before he hopped on his sleigh and flew off into the night?

I laughed at myself but kept my head low and focused on getting to Nick. Several people stopped me to ask about my father. I smiled and quickly addressed their concerns while continuing to move up the aisle, hoping I didn’t appear rude.

“Anna.” Dr. Mitch Norman smiled as he stepped from one of the back pews to stand before me. “Merry Christmas. Let me introduce you to my mother.”

My stomach clenched, but I forced a smile and exchanged pleasantries with the dentist’s mom. Like her son, Rita Norman was also a dentist with impeccably straight, white teeth and a friendly personality.

My mind raced for a way to politely excuse myself from the conversation, but before I could figure out what to say, Mitch leaned forward, gripped my arm, and winked. “We don’t want to hold you up. I know you’re anxious to talk to Santa.”