CHAPTER 10
By Labor Day, Miles had become Eudora’s fair-haired boy. Somehow, the fact that he was gainfully employed had become his idea and Casey’s ultimatum had never happened. She couldn’t have cared less who took the credit. His streak of ambition had even rubbed off on Erica. She kept making noises about pursuing a career of her own and spent hours each day pouring over Fortune 500 magazines in search of ideas.
At night when it was time to go to bed, Ryder no longer wandered in and out of the bedroom in various stages of undress. Casey had her bathroom all to herself and began to realize why Ryder had become so upset when she’d moved him out of her life. The routine they’d been in had become normal, even comforting, and it was over. Because of the new bedroom, whatever connection they’d made between themselves was gone. In an odd sort of way, it was like being divorced.
But the awareness between them kept growing. It was there in the way Ryder watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking—and the way his hand lingered on her arm long after the need for keeping her balance had come and gone—even the brief, sibling-like kisses they left on each other’s cheek before saying good-night. They were wanna-be lovers, playing at being friends. And always, in the back of their minds, was the knowledge that the marriage they shared was a farce and the lie they were living was the very wedge that kept them apart.
* * *
It was just past noon when Casey turned off the highway and accelerated up the driveway into the Ruban estate, gunning the engine of her new car and taking the curve in a near skid. She pulled up to the garage and stopped just as Ryder slid out from beneath the Lincoln. His black hair was windblown and the grin on his face was too devil-may-care to ignore. His jeans were oil-slicked, his chest brown and bare. He was wiping his hands on a rag as he headed her way.
“Where’s the fire?”
She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and beg him to crawl back under that car and take her with him, but she couldn’t. At least, not today.
She bolted for the stairs. “I know, I was driving a little too fast, but I’m in a hurry.” She hiked up her skirt and began to run up the steps, two at a time.
“Take off those damned high heels if you’re going to run like that,” Ryder yelled. When she didn’t oblige, he threw down the grease rag. “Hardheaded woman,” he muttered, and followed her inside.
She was in the bedroom. A suitcase was open and she was yanking clothes from a hanger and tossing them on the bed with abandon. Anxiety seized him. She was packing to travel.
“What’s the rush?”
“I’ve got to be in Chicago by morning. I have less than an hour and a half to get packed and get to the airport..” She turned in a helpless circle, then dived back into the bottom of her closet, muttering as shoes came flying out behind her. “I can’t find my black heels.”
Ryder bent down and picked up a pair from the pile in the floor. “Like these?”
She straightened. A smile creased her face as she yanked them from his hands. “Yes! You’re a magician. Thanks a bunch.”
His belly was starting to turn. He kept telling himself it was going to be okay, that the only reason this was bothering him was because the news was so sudden.
“So, what’s in Chicago?”
“Digidyne Industries. We’ve been after them for years. Once before, Delaney had the deal all but done and they backed out. I just got a call that the CEO had a heart attack and died. The heirs are going to put it on the auction block and I want first dibs.”
Ryder started to pace, sidestepping her trips from the closet and back as she packed what she needed to wear. “So, it’s a big deal, huh?”
“Very! I’m lucky that Delaney’s old contact even thought to make the call and let me know. Otherwise, we would have been out in the cold.”
“Yeah, that was lucky all right.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the toes of his boots.
Casey glanced up. “You need to hurry and clean up. We’re going to have to drive like mad to make my plane.” Then she grinned. “However, that should pose no problem for you.” It was a joke within the household that the family chauffeur drove, as Eudora had put it, “Like a bat coming out of hell with its wings on fire.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Ryder said, and walked out.
A few minutes later, Casey burst into his room, her face flushed with energy, her eyes alight with excitement. “I’m ready.”
Ryder walked out of the bathroom, buttoning a clean shirt. He didn’t stop to analyze the wisdom of what he was about to do, he just knew that if he let her get on that damned plane without a piece of his heart, he wouldn’t make it until she got back.
Casey went willingly as he took her in his arms and crushed her against his chest in a smothering embrace.
“Just be careful, okay?”
She laughed. “Tell that to the pilot. I’m afraid it’s out of my hands.”
He groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair, crushing the curls and dragging her closer. “Don’t make light of fate, Casey Dee. Sometimes when you’re not looking, it’ll kick you right in the teeth.”
The first thought in Casey’s mind was that he wasn’t kidding. Even more, he seemed panicked about the upcoming flight.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “This happens to me all the time. Year before last, Delaney and I logged over seven thousand miles in the air. Of course we were in Europe three times, but that was an unusual year.”
God, keep her safe, Ryder thought, then he lowered his mouth and drew her close. Casey closed her eyes, yielding. bending to his will and embrace, swept away by the unexpected demands of a kiss that left her breathless and more than a little bit stunned.
When he whispered against her cheek, she opened her eyes. His panic had become contagious.
“I want you back in one piece.”
She shivered. She’d never seen him like this. It was almost as if he were in some kind of pain.
“I’ll certainly do my best,” she said, trying to lighten the moment. She grabbed at the undone buttons on his shirt and started buttoning them up. “I’m sorry to repeat myself, but we’ve got to hurry.”
He tucked in his shirt and picked up her bags. His heart was pounding.
“Go get in the car,” he grumbled. “I’ll make sure you catch that damned plane. But when you get back, we need to talk.”
Casey looked startled. An ultimatum?
She got in the car, watching as he dumped her bags in the trunk and then slid behind the wheel. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. If only they had time to talk now. She looked at her watch. They would be lucky if they made the plane, never mind finishing a conversation.
He only glanced at her once. “Buckle up.”
She’d ridden with him too many times before to doubt the necessity of doing as he’d asked. She did as she was told.
* * *
Casey was the last passenger to get on. She stood in the boarding area with her ticket in hand, waiting for the attendant to give her a boarding pass. Ryder stood beside her, pale-faced and stoic, yet his eyes never left her face. She reached out and touched his hand, wishing their circumstances were different, wishing she could throw herself in his arms and tell him he meant more to her than she could say.
“I’ll call as soon as we land and let you know where I’ll be staying.”
Ryder nodded, trying to maintain his equilibrium, but he felt sick. The high-pitched whine of the jet’s engines vibrated the windows overlooking the runway. In seconds, Casey was going to be up in that sky, and he knew only too well it was a hell of a long way down. He wanted to grab her and shake her until she listened to sense. Ruban Enterprises didn’t need another Fortune 500 business. It was already a gargantuan conglomerate of its own accord. Why acquire more?
But he couldn’t find a way to say what was in his heart. He couldn’t say, I’m afraid I’ll lose you like I lost my father. He couldn’t say, I’m afraid I’ll lose you before we ever make love. He couldn’t say, I love you—because that wasn’t part of the deal.
And then waiting was no longer an option.
“Take care!” Casey shouted, and started running down the gate toward the plane.
Ryder took several steps forward when the attendant grabbed his arm. “Sorry, sir, this is as far as you can go.”
He groaned. God help him, but he’d missed his chance. Just when he’d found a way to say the words without coming apart, she was gone.
He went to the observation deck, watching as the big silver plane started backing out of its slot. His fingers knotted around the rail as it rolled onto the runway. And when liftoff came, sweat was running down the middle of his back and he was praying with every breath. When the plane was no longer in sight, Ryder leaned his forehead against the vast expanse of glass, unaware of the heat against his brow. He closed his eyes, trying to picture her face.
“I love you, Casey.” But when all was said and done, he was a case of too little, too late.
* * *
It was almost sundown when Ryder walked into the apartment. His heart sank as a red blinking light winked at him from across the room. He tossed the car keys on the kitchen counter and pressed the button, waiting for the sound of Casey’s voice.
“Hi, there. Sorry I missed you. I’m staying at the Ritz Carlton. Here is the number.” Ryder jotted it down as she spoke, then settled back to listen to the rest of the message. “The flight was fine, just a little bumpy. I’ll be in meetings all day tomorrow, but I’ll try to call you tomorrow night Take care.” She paused, and Ryder would have sworn he heard her take a deep breath. “Well…anyway…I’ll miss you.”
The machine beeped. The message was over. Casey was gone. He played it over once more just to listen to the sound of her voice, and wished to hell that Dora hadn’t broken a nail. She’d had a fit the size of Dallas and nothing had satisfied her but to make an emergency run to her manicurist to get it fixed. He’d missed Casey’s call because of a broken nail.
The house phone rang. “Now what?” he muttered, and shoved himself out of the chair. Tilly was on the line.
“I’m making pot roast. You come on over here and get yourself some food.”
The last thing he wanted was to eat or to talk. Casey hadn’t been gone four hours and already there was a hole inside of him that food couldn’t fill.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just stick around here for the evening.”
“If you change your mind, you know how to get here.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
He hung up and then headed for the shower. After he cleaned up, maybe he’d watch a little TV, have an early night. After all, he had the whole place to himself. And it was the loneliest feeling he could ever remember.
* * *
By morning, it had started to rain. By the next day, and then the next, it alternated between gray skies and drizzle, with a downpour now and then in between. And as if the rain wasn’t bad enough, a line of heavy thunderstorms was pushing its way into the state and today was the day that Casey was due to come home.
He sat at the window looking out at the rain, ignoring the fact that today he’d already angered Erica and caused Eudora to have to change her plans.
He didn’t give a damn that Erica had a lunch date with a banker to discuss buying a business. He couldn’t have cared less whether or not Dora was going to miss her bridge luncheon. Erica knew how to drive and Dora could take a cab.
Erica argued, then whined, then begged. When she realized that nothing was working, she started in with what she considered simple reasoning. If she drove herself, then there was no way she could keep from having to walk in the rain. At this point, Ryder had heard enough.
“Where are you meeting the banker for lunch?” he asked.
She sniffed. “The Tea Room.”
“Take an umbrella, and use their valet parking.”
Erica knew when she’d been had. She rolled her eyes and flounced out of the library, muttering beneath her breath about hardheaded men who did not know their place.
Eudora patted her hair and straightened her belt. She was certain that the rapport she’d developed with this man would bring him around.
“Ryder, dear, it’s Evadine Nelson’s turn to play hostess for the bridge club. She lives right at the edge of town, remember? Hers is that big white house with the portico that I so admire.”
“Yes, ma’am, I remember the house,” Ryder said.
Eudora beamed. “Then you won’t mind just dropping me off. It won’t take more than half an hour either way. If Delaney hadn’t insisted on building this place out in the middle of nowhere, we wouldn’t be so isolated.”
Ryder shook his head. “Dora, you weren’t listening to me. I’m not budging until Casey calls. Dammit, look outside. There’s a storm due in within hours. Chances are, her plane will be delayed, or the pilot will wind up trying to outrun it. Either way, I want to know what the hell is going on. I’ll call a cab for you, but I’m not playing chauffeur today and that’s that.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, things have been upside down ever since-Casey brought you into this family. You’re supposed to be the chauffeur. Chauffeurs are supposed to do as they’re told.” She tried to glare.
“So fire me,” he said, and kissed her cheek, which brought a smile to her eyes that she just couldn’t hide. “Go on with you then,” she spluttered. “Go sit and wait for that phone call.” She walked away, mumbling beneath her breath. “Land sakes, what will Evadine say? Me coming to her door in a cab, like some commoner.”
Ryder followed her out the door. “Dora, you are a fine lady, but you are not the Queen Mother. Taking a cab now and then is good for the soul.”
Eudora pivoted, giving him a cool, pointed stare. “I declare,” she said, about to give him a piece of her mind, but Ryder didn’t wait around to listen.
He ran from the main house all the way across the courtyard, then up the stairs just ahead of a cool gust of wind. Pausing at the landing, he looked up at the sky, judging the dark, angry swirl of clouds overhead. Today was not a good day to fly.
As soon as he entered the apartment, he turned on the television and flipped to a local station he knew would be broadcasting weather bulletins all day. With the phone at his side, he sat down to wait for her call.
A half hour went by. By this time he was pacing the floor. She’d promised to call before she left. She wasn’t the kind of person who’d break a promise.
“A line of severe thunderstorms is blanketing the state,” the TV announcer stated.
He turned toward the television, picked up the remote and upped the volume.
“Wind velocities have been measured at fifty to sixty miles per hour with gusts up to seventy and eighty. Authorities advise staying off of the roads and avoiding low-lying areas that are prone to flooding.”
He glanced toward his bedroom. A sheet of rain splattered itself against the sliding glass doors that led onto the deck. His belly tied itself in a knot and he frowned, trying once again to focus on the weather man’s report.
“The line runs from…”
Ryder groaned. On the map, the line of storms was virtually from the top to bottom of the state and moving eastward at a very fast pace. What was even more disturbing, the front extended across a large portion of the northern states, including Illinois. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t heard anything. Maybe her flight had been delayed and she was waiting for new information before she called.
No sooner had he thought it than the phone rang right near his hand. He jumped and then grabbed it before it had time to ring again.”
“Hello?”
“Ryder! It’s me! I’m in a cab on the way to the airport. Traffic is a mess, but I’ll make my flight. I should get into Ruban Crossing around three. Can you pick me up?”
“What’s the weather like up there?”
“Ummm, it’s raining a little, but no big deal.”
No big deal. “It’s raining like crazy here. Why don’t you just take a later flight, or better yet, take the first one out tomorrow?”
She laughed. “Now I know I’ve been gone too long. You are already making excuses as to why I shouldn’t come back.”
He got up and walked to the sliding glass doors and then jumped when a stroke of lightning tore across the sky right above his head.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, as the phone cracked in his ear. “A storm front is moving through. Today is not a good day to fly.”
There was laughter in her voice. “It will be fine. You know they won’t take off if there’s any danger. Besides, the pilots usually just fly above the storms and land behind them.”
He felt sick. Something inside kept telling him this was wrong—so wrong. “Casey, don’t. I know what I’m talking about. Please, for God’s sake, don’t get on that plane.”
The underlying fear in his voice was about to make her nervous. She decided to change the subject. “You didn’t even ask me if the deal went through!”
He sighed and shifted the phone to the other ear. “Okay, I’ll bite. How did the meetings go?”
She hugged herself, resisting the urge to giggle. She was pretty sure that CEOs did not giggle. “We got it!” she crowed.
“It’s a done deal. I swear, Delaney is probably rolling over in his grave as we speak.”
“Don’t be talking about graves.”
She laughed. “Just be at the airport. I can’t wait to get home.”
Their connection began to break up. “Remember,” Casey said. “Flight 209. Three o’clock.”
“Dammit, Casey, I don’t want you to—”
The line was dead. Ryder hung up with a curse and sat back down, staring at the television as if it were the lifeline between himself and sanity.
* * *
Ryder heard someone groan. That’s when he looked up at the airport monitor, watching as the On Time notice of Flight 209 from Chicago was changed to Delayed.
His gut hitched itself into a knot. It figured. While it wasn’t raining at the moment, the sky was black and the intermittent flashes of cloud-to-ground lightning could be seen for miles. It was an all too familiar scene. One right out of his nightmares.
He stood and walked to the observation point overlooking the runway. A couple of planes were waiting to take off, another was off-loading. Except for the weather, nothing seemed out of sync.
I’m just borrowing trouble.
Fifteen minutes passed, and then Flight 209 was a half hour late and before he knew it, an hour overdue. And, the information on the monitor hadn’t changed.
He’d been up and down the terminal a dozen times, walking, trying to pass the time and ease the nervous tension that kept growing within him. Now he was back at the arrival gate, standing at the windows and watching the skies.
Suddenly, the skin crawled on the back of his neck and he turned. Nearby, a child was crying. A teenager was on a cell phone. A weary traveler had given in to exhaustion and was sound asleep, his head lolling, his mouth slack as every now and then a slight snore escaped. The attendant at the check-in desk was on the phone. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to warrant the gut-wrenching instinct he’d had that he was about to be attacked.
He glanced up at the monitor and sighed, then out of curiosity, back at the attendant. But when her expression suddenly froze and he saw her look up in fright, the same sensation came over him again, this time pulling a kink in the knot already present in his belly.
Easy. It doesn’t mean a thing.
Down the broad walkway, a small hom honked three times in succession. “Coming through. Coming through.”
His focus shifted to the electric cart coming down the terminal. It stopped in front of the attendant’s desk as she ran out from behind the counter. When she handed the driver a computer printout, the other man grimaced and wiped a hand across his face. Ryder stared as they scanned the list together. When the driver lifted his head and began to scan the waiting area, Ryder knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew.
He started walking—past the crying child, past the teenager on the cell phone, past the sleeping traveler. He came to a halt directly in front of the cart and didn’t wait for permission to interrupt.
“What happened?”
Both men looked up at him at once. But it was the glance they shared before one of them spoke that nearly sent Ryder to his knees. He’d been right. Something was worse than wrong.
“I’m sorry, sir? Were you speaking to us?” the driver asked.
Ryder leaned forward and pointed to the readout. “Don’t play games.”
Before either one of them could answer, an announcement came over the loudspeaker.
“All those waiting for information regarding the arrival of Flight 209 out of Chicago, please go to the VIP lounge in the west wing.”
Ryder stared into the eyes of the man behind the wheel and felt the ground coming up to hit him in the face. He leaned forward, steadying himself on the cart.
“Are you all right?” the man asked.
Ryder took a deep breath and lifted his head. “Should I be?”
The man looked away.
Ryder’s voice died on a prayer. “Oh, God… no.”
“Sir, you need to go to the VIP lounge in—”
“I heard,” he said shortly, and walked away, following the small crowd of people who were making their way down the terminal. A few looked nervous, aware that the request was unorthodox. Some merely followed directions—like cattle on their way to a slaughter.
An official from the airline was waiting for them inside the door. And Ryder stood with the crowd, listening to the end of his world and wondering how a man was supposed to live with so damned much regret.
“We’re sorry to inform you that Flight 209 has crashed in a cornfield just outside the Illinois border.”
A few started to cry. Others stood, like Ryder, waiting for the miracle that would pronounce their loved ones okay.
“At this point, we don’t know why this has happened, but there have been eyewitness reports that lead us to believe the plane might have been struck by lightning. We do know it was on fire when it went down.”
Someone’s perfume was too strong. The cloying scent drifted up Ryder’s nostrils. From this day on, he would hate the smell of musk. A woman shrieked and sank to the floor while a man somewhere behind Ryder started to curse.
“On behalf of our airline, I am very sorry to have to tell you…”
Ryder tilted his chin and closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.
“…there were no survivors.”
The wail that spread across the room began as a joint groan of disbelief. Ryder covered his face and then wished he’d covered his ears, instead. Maybe if he hadn’t heard it, it wouldn’t be true.
They were saying something about a passenger list and a verification of names, but he couldn’t stand still. He knew if he didn’t get out, he was going to come undone. He burst out of the lounge, even as someone was calling him back, and started the long walk back down the terminal.
One step at a time. That’s how he would get out of the airport. But how would he get home? How could he face that apartment without Casey?
But as far as he walked, he knew he couldn’t run away from the truth. He’d spent the last seven months trying to forget what he’d done to his father and now this? How far, he wondered, would he have to run to get away from Casey’s ghost? And with every step that he took, the thing that hurt worst was knowing he’d never said, I love you.
* * *
Casey kept glancing at her watch, then out the window of the plane. Neither hastened the arrival time of her flight. She was going to be at least an hour late getting home. Poor Ryder. He would no sooner get back to the apartment and hear her message on the machine than he’d have to come right back to the airport again.
She leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes, weary from the grueling three-day set of negotiations. But it was done! She’d proven her mettle in more ways than one. She’d been thrust into Delaney Ruban’s shoes far earlier than she’d ever envisioned, and while she’d known what to do, it was the doing she’d accomplished that made her feel proud. Delaney had worked all his life to create his empire. She couldn’t have lived with herself if she’d been the cause of its ruin.
Yet the glow she had expected to feel from her success was dim in comparison to the anticipation she felt in just getting home to the man who was her husband. She kept remembering their first meeting in Sonny’s Bar, of how he’d come out of the shadows and into her life. Now she couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without him.
Half an hour into the flight, the plane lurched, and she grabbed at her seat belt, testing the lock that was firmly in place. A few seconds later, it leveled back off and she relaxed. Ryder had been right. This wasn’t a good day to fly. Intermittent turbulence had been nonstop since takeoff, and she told herself she should have seen it coming.
Right after she’d talked to Ryder, her cab had come to a complete halt on the freeway. Traffic had snarled itself into a knot that only time had been unable to unravel. She’d known then that unless a miracle occurred, she was going to miss her flight.
For Casey, the miracle did occur, but not in the way she’d envisioned. She arrived at the airport forty-five minutes late. Not only had she missed her flight, she’d missed her lunch and her mood was not getting better. Just when she thought she was going to have to spend another night in Chicago after all, an airline with a later flight into Ruban Crossing had a cancellation. At last she was on her way home.
* * *
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will be arriving in Ruban Crossing in about five minutes. Please turn off all electronic and computer devices and prepare for landing.”
Casey did so with anticipation. If Ryder hadn’t already received her call about the change in flights, she would call home as soon as she got to a phone. By the time she collected her luggage, he would be picking her up.
And then the plane touched down and taxied down the runway, then up to the gate to unload. It was one of the few times in her life she wasn’t flying first class, but she didn’t even mind having to sit toward the back of the plane, or being one of the last to get off. She was home.
* * *
Ryder moved aside out of instinct as a fresh swarm of passengers began to come out of the hallway to his right. His hands started to shake as he watched a man laugh and wave to a woman and child who were just arriving.
It isn’t fair. That damned plane got here in one piece. Why not hers?
Twice he tried to move through the crowd and was unsuccessful each time, so he stood against the wall, waiting as face after smiling face moved past. Finally the flow was down to single file and he stepped away from the wall.
“Ryder!”
The hair stood up on the back of his neck and he stopped, but couldn’t bring himself to turn. He had to be hearing things. Just for a moment, he thought he’d heard Casey calling his name.
He took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and started moving again.
“Ryder! Wait!”
He groaned. God! He hadn’t even been this bad after Micah was killed.
Someone grabbed his arm and he turned.
Casey dropped her briefcase and threw her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you’re still here! This is fabulous luck! I thought I would have to—”
When her arms went around his neck, he started to shake. And when he felt her breath on his face, and her laughter rumble across his senses, he lifted her off her feet.
“My God… my God.” It was all he could say as he buried his face against her neck, turning them both in a small, tight circle in the middle of the crowd.
His grip was almost painful, but Casey laughed as her feet dangled off the floor. This was definitely the way to be welcomed home.
“Maybe I should have stayed that extra day after all,” she said. “If absence makes the—”
“You’re alive.”
The laugh died in her voice. “Of course I’m alive.”
He set her down on the floor, then cupped her face in his hands, and the tears in his eyes were impossible to miss.
“You missed your plane, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “You wouldn’t believe the traffic jam my cab got in. I missed my flight, my lunch, my—”
“The plane crashed. There were no survivors. I thought you were dead.”
She paled and then clutched at his arm, fixing her gaze on the shape of his mouth and the words coming out. She shook her head, finding it difficult to believe what he was telling her, but he was too distraught to ignore. Goose bumps broke out on her skin as the impact began to sink in.
“When my cab got stuck in traffic, the first thing I thought was if I missed my plane, I wouldn’t get to go home, and if I didn’t get home, I would have to spend another night away from you.”
Ryder’s heart skipped a beat. “I missed you, too,” he said softly.
“No, you don’t quite understand,” Casey said. “I did something selfish, very selfish, as I sat in that cab. I prayed for a miracle so I could get home. When I missed my plane, I was certain my prayer had not been answered.” Tears filled her eyes. “Oh Ryder, why me? Why was I spared when so many others had to die?”
He crushed her to him. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is. five minutes ago I was trying to find a reason to take another damned breath and now…” Unable to finish, he held her close as a shudder swept through his body.
Suddenly, Casey felt like crying. “Ryder?”
He eased up, but was unable to quit touching her and began brushing the hair from her face. “What is it, honey?”
“Will you take me home?”
He held out his hand.