Chapter Eight

“Don’t you have to be at work?” Savannah asked, cradling her Starbuck’s coffee cup.

“I’m on vacation,” Noah stretched out his long legs and watched her like a cat. “Don’t you have meetings?”

“Not until Monday. I gave myself plenty of time to recover from the conference.”

“Good idea.”

“How much longer do you have off?”

“I haven’t really decided yet,” he said.

Savannah frowned. “That must be nice.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I kinda like it. It’s giving me some ideas.”

She looked askance at him. “What kind of ideas?”

“I’m thinking maybe I should quit and venture out on my own.”

“That’s kind of a giant leap, isn’t it?”

“Now that I have my own plane, it isn’t so much.”

“Why now?”

“After my dad died, I decided to spend some of his money after all.”

“Ironic.”

He smiled. “It is ironic, I know.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a. . . determined streak?”

“It may have come up.” He sipped his coffee. Stared into space a moment. “So, if you could pick one place that you wanted to go, where would it be?”

“That’s easy. I want to go to Venice.”

“OK.” He laughed. “Let me rephrase the question. One place in the states.”

“I don’t know.”

“Really? I could name five places right off.”

“But you said only one. That’s harder.”

“OK. Name five then.”

“Denver. San Francisco. Salt Lake City, Las Vegas. Seattle.”

He coughed, nearly spitting out his coffee. “That’s interesting. You kind of like the West, I see.”

“I’ve been to all these places for conferences. They were nice. Places I’d like to visit again.”

“Oh. I see.” His eyes took on a curious expression. “Name one place you’d like to go that you haven’t been.”

“That’s harder. How would I know if I’ve never been there?”

That elicited an odd expression.

“OK,” she said. “I’ll play along. I’ve always wanted to visit Mackinac Island.”

“Where in the world is that?”

“Michigan.”

He pulled out his iPad. Began typing. “It’s a small airport,” he said. “But the Mustang can handle it.”

She chuckled. “The Mustang?”

He glanced at her and then back at his iPad. “The airplane.”

She giggled a little and sipped her coffee. “You named your airplane.”

“No, silly,” he said, turning his attention to her. “It’s a Cessna Mustang. Cessna is the brand like Toyota. Mustang is the model name like a Camry.”

“Oh,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.

“It’s like a Ford Mustang.”

“OK,” she said, keeping an almost straight face. “I get it.”

“Anyway,” he said, shifting back to his iPad. “The weather looks good, but if it turns, we can land at Cheboygan and take a ferry.”

She nodded, serious now. “No cars allowed on Mackinac.”

“How do you even know about this island?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. An Alabama girl knowing about an island in north Michigan is a little. . . unusual.”

“It’s where Somewhere in Time was filmed.”

He waited a beat. “I saw that movie. It was set there?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know it was a real place. And if I remember correctly, he drove.”

“He did drive, but that was just for the movie.”

“Hmm. It says here there’s a golf course just north of the airport. We can get a horse-drawn carriage and stay at the Grand Hotel.”

“Sounds nice.”

“And you’ve never been there?”

“Never.”

Five minutes later, he turned the screen so she could see.

He had pulled up a map from Birmingham to Mackinac Island with a line connecting them highlighted in magenta. There was a splash of green here and there and one splash of yellow, but nothing over their direct route.

“Good weather,” he commented. “The green means light rain, and the yellow means a little heavier rain.”

“I’m well acquainted with the Weather Channel,” she said, the amusement still playing about her lips.

According to the map, they could be there in two hours and ten minutes.

“It’s a lot closer than I expected,” she said. “Wouldn’t you have to get approval to fly?”

“I would,” he said. “We have to tell them when we’re leaving.” He looked at her questioningly.

“Let’s say we wanted to leave now.”

“All right,” he said. “We tell them there will be two souls on board.” He clicked two.

“Souls! That sounds morbid. Almost like they’re counting on a crash.”

He grimaced. “Yeah. It’s an archaic term, but it’s still the way the FAA counts the number on board.”

“OK. Now what?”

“We’re not far from the airport, but I’ll give us an hour. So. . .” He checked his watch. “We should eat lunch first.”

She nodded.

He typed in one o’clock. “That should give us plenty of time to eat lunch and get to the airport and get boarded.” He hit enter.

“We’re all set,” he said.

“What else would you have to do?”

“We need to go eat and get to the airport.”

“Now?”

“Sure. The flight plan is filed. . . and, your suitcase is packed from New York.”

A little bubble of panic blocked her throat. She coughed.

“Our luggage is in the trunk of the car we borrowed from the airport,” he reminded her.

“Well, yeah, but. . .” She did have her luggage packed. Hell, she practically lived out of a suitcase. “I have a suitcase full of heels, cocktail dresses, and business suits.”

“The dress and heels will come in handy when we have dinner at the Grand Hotel.”

“What about clothes? This is my only clean pair of jeans.”

He clicked on his iPad again. “The hotel has a laundry and. . .” More clicking. “They have shops in town.”

She took a deep, steadying breath. Closed her eyes.

Noah put his hand on hers. “Savannah,” he said. “No strings attached.”

Savannah felt tears welling in her eyes. No strings.

She couldn’t do no strings. Especially not with him. She shook her head and felt a tear slip down her cheek. She couldn’t go down that route again.

“Hey,” he said. “No, no.”

He slid her against him, kissed the tear from her cheek, kissed her eyes, kissed her forehead. Tears started spilling from her eyes. Cradling the back of her head in his hands, he wiped them away, kissed the dampness of her cheeks. “I think I said the wrong thing,” he said into her ear. “If you come with me, I insist on strings. Lots and lots of strings.”

She laughed a watery laugh.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” she said. “I must look like a raccoon.” She wiped at her eyes and came away with mascara on her fingertips.

“I like raccoons.”

She laughed and looked into his eyes – his beautiful blue eyes. Eyes she knew so well. Eyes that now had little lines at the corners. Oh, so very sexy little lines. Her heart skittered the way it always did when she was this close to him.

“Give me a chance,” he whispered.

With his words, she felt twenty years of heartbreak begin to melt away. Heartbreak she thought had been healed long ago.

 

Noah couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Flying was the one thing that had always brought him true happiness. Sitting here in his very own Mustang, the plane he’d been dreaming about owning for years was enough to make him ecstatic. But having Savannah sitting next to him, in the four-point safety harness, was enough to just about send him over the edge.

Did she have any idea the effect she had on him?

She wore jeans and a burgundy sweater with cute little motorcycle boots. Her eyes were bright as she watched everything he did. She had picked up the headset on her own so she could listen in on the traffic control chatter, even though she didn’t need to. She could just as easily have stuck her head in a book and waited for him to get them to their destination.

But Savannah Richards was no spectator.

She was full of life and wanted to be a part of whatever she was doing.

While they had waited on their lunch at a local sandwich shop, they made a reservation online at the Grand Hotel. She hadn’t objected when he’d reserved a two-bedroom suite for two nights. The anticipation of exploring the area with her was enough to have him pinching himself to make sure this wasn’t another of his fantasies.

“That’s us,” she said, with her hand over the microphone when their plane was cleared to taxi to the runway.

“I’m impressed,” he said, after responding to the control tower. “By the way, you can talk,” he told her. “I have you muted.”

“Gee thanks.”

He grinned. “I thought you might enjoy the freedom.”

“I do.” Nonetheless, she sat in silence as they taxied out to the runway. With Birmingham being a small airport, there was no wait.

He watched her clutch the edges of her seat as the plane went airborne. His favorite part of flying. Feeling nothing but air beneath him. For a moment in time, he felt like a bird.

As he checked controls, his mind went into autopilot.

How was this supposed to work? How long before he could begin thinking of her as his girlfriend again?

OK. How long before he could begin calling her his girlfriend again? For twenty-one years, Savannah Richards had been his girlfriend.

She always was.

She always will be.

The thought came out of nowhere. Perhaps from the free air around them.

Oh, there was so much he had to make up for. The very fact that she had agreed to come with him meant that the stars had aligned, for once, in his favor.

He had been given a gift – a second chance – and he would do everything in his power not to screw it up this time.

There was nothing anyone could say that could keep him from Savannah now.

With one exception.

Savannah.

He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had never spoken to him again. But it was almost as if they had picked up where they had left off.

He wondered how long he was supposed to wait before he kissed her again.

And for the second time, the air brought a swift answer to him.

She had settled into her seat now. It was hard to be excited for very long when there was nothing to see but clouds and sky. And acres and acres of land beneath them. Besides, Savannah was a frequent flier, so that part wasn’t new.

Once he had the plane leveled off, he set the autopilot control and, reaching out, took her hand. Their seats were close enough that if he leaned toward her and pulled her toward him just a little, he could put his arm around her.

She came willingly, tilting her head as though she thought he was going to tell her something.

He placed his hand under her chin and pressed his lips lightly against hers.

They hit a pocket of air that had them reflexively clinging to each other.

All he could think was divine intervention.

His tongue lightly swept along her lower lip. He felt her shudder, whether from turbulence or his kiss didn’t really matter.

Everything he had pushed out of his memory. Everything that had faded from his mind about her, flooded back in a wave of sensations. Her feel. Her taste.

She dug her nails into his upper arms to bring him closer. There was no closer. Not with their harnesses in place, and he wasn’t about to release them with precious cargo in flight.

He deepened the kiss. His tongue swirled against hers. He wanted to taste everything. Feel everything all at once.

Don’t rush. Take your time.

Forcing his sanity to return, he kissed her in a series of little short kisses. Little promises of more.

He pulled back, her eyes were closed, her lips parted.

He groaned. Kissed her again, lightly.

She blinked, opened her eyes, and smiled.

He scooted back in his seat. Checked his controls.

“Hold that thought,” he said, his voice sounded tremulous, even to his own ears.

Noah had a lot to do before landing. He checked the weather again. Spoke to the traffic controller in Minneapolis. Nothing was coming in on Unicom, the communication system for small, unstaffed airports. They were clear to land.

Curious about the island, he made a little loop around before lining up to the runway. The Grand Hotel, at least from the air, lived up to its name.

The landing took all his concentration. The short runway gave him no leeway for error.

After a smooth landing, he parked the plane and they climbed out. There was no car waiting for them here.

However. . .

Noah had called ahead while Savannah had been in the restroom at the sandwich shop, and a horse and carriage waited for them, a driver dressed all in black standing at their beck and call.

“It’s like a fairy tale,” she said, turning to him, her face glowing.

Noah beamed. He pulled her against him and kissed her on the lips.

A fairy tale indeed.

 

Savannah huddled in her sweater next to Noah. Her first purchase was definitely going to be a jacket. The driver of the little carriage didn’t seem to notice the cold.

“You two barely made it before the Grand Hotel closes next month,” he said. “There are a few places open in winter, but it gets a little more difficult to get here. Especially after winter really gets going.

“Do people live here in the winter?” Noah asked.

“A few hearty people. You won’t catch me here though.”

The ride to the hotel was majestic. The driver took them around so that they traveled along the tree lined road up to the hotel. When the Grand Hotel came into view, it nearly took Savannah’s breath away. It was truly an American castle.

She smiled at Noah. It was hard to believe that just less than three hours ago, they had been sitting in Birmingham, Alabama. Not much longer than it would take her to drive from her home on Lake Martin to Atlanta for a day of shopping. Now here they were on the other side of the country in another world.

The driver stopped at the front of the hotel, and, like royalty, they were greeted by the valet, who took their luggage and helped her from the carriage.

Noah took her hand as they went up the stairs, across the front porch, and through the lobby to the check-in desk.

“Good afternoon,” the clerk greeted them.

“We have a reservation for Worthington,” Noah said.

“Ah. Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Worthington,” the clerk said. “We have you in a lovely two-bedroom suite.”

Savannah opened her mouth, but Noah just shrugged. So she didn’t say anything. Didn’t correct the clerk to tell her she wasn’t Mrs. Worthington.

The clerk handed them keys – real keys, not key cards, and they followed the bellhop to the elevator and up to the fourth floor. He opened the door. “Welcome to the newly renovated Cupola suite,” the bellhop said.

“I tried to get the Somewhere in Time room,” Noah said, “but it was already booked.”

“No,” Savannah said. “This is perfect.” Everything was elegantly decorated. The walls were papered in a cheerful blue color - the drapes and flowers matched. “It looks like a room for a princess.”

After the bellhop left, Noah pulled her into a hug.

The clock on the wall chimed five times. “Hey,” he said. “It’s five o’clock.”

“Time for a martini?” she asked.

He grinned. “You read my mind.”

She laughed. “Give me a minute to freshen up.”

“Take your time.”

Suitcase in hand, she paused and then turned back to him. “Which one is mine?”

“You can have whichever one you want.”

Savannah dragged her suitcase into the room to the right, which had two queen beds, dug her toiletry bag out of her suitcase, and went into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and brushed her hair. It had been a long day, so there wasn’t a lot she could do. After freshening her makeup and adding some lip gloss, she took a deep breath, stretched, and looked around. What were they going to do with all these beds?

At thirty-nine, she was not easily impressed.

And she knew better than to be swept off her feet.

This was a no-strings trip.

It was important to keep her head out of the clouds. Noah may have been the one she’d always loved, but. . .

She ticked off the things to be wary of:

He was still married.

He had a daughter.

He had walked away from her once.

He had shattered her heart.

She shook her head. But she was here. She mentally rewrote her list:

He was almost divorced.

His daughter was an adult, so not a big issue.

He was here now.

There was still a place for him in her heart.

Much better. Putting a smile on her face, she went back to join him. He was standing at the window, so she could see his profile. What she saw surprised her. Instead of the carefree man he attempted to portray, in this unguarded moment, she saw pain. What had caused him so much hurt?

She realized that whatever it was, she wanted to make it go away. Even if that meant setting aside the pain that he had caused her.