The Single Dad's Guarded Heart. Roz Fox Denny
as she patted herself on the back for remembering, the wall phone rang.
“That’s the business line,” Pappy said, glancing up. “Mick says taking orders is gonna be your job. You might as well answer it and get your feet wet, twin.”
Marlee reached for the receiver and smiled. Another thing Pappy used to do—call one of them by their given name and the other twin. Sometimes he used boy or girl. “Hello,” she said, her voice reflecting the remnant of her smile. The caller mumbled that he must have dialed incorrectly.
“Wait—you’ve…reached Cloud Chasers.” She grabbed a pen and hunted for paper. “You’re Wylie Ames?” Marlee’s eyes sought Pappy’s, but he was watching TV again. “I’m sorry to have to ask if you’re an old account of Mick’s or a new customer. Mick? Oh, he’s gone to Kalispell. I expect him back anytime. Who am I? His sister.” She stopped short of adding isn’t any of your concern. Not a good idea to annoy a customer her first day on the job, the man was curt to the point of rudeness.
Her smile turned into a frown when it became apparent the guy didn’t trust her to deliver a message. Tersely, he said, “I have a generator on the fritz. The parts house in Kalispell promised to have my order ready for Mick by the middle of next week.” He sounded even more ill-tempered when Marlee asked if Mick knew where to deliver the goods, and snapped “Yes.” He clicked off without saying goodbye. Glaring at the receiver, Marlee banged it back into its cradle.
“Disagreeable jerk,” she muttered as her brother walked into the house, his limp more pronounced. There were fatigue lines around his mouth Marlee didn’t recall seeing earlier.
“Who’s disagreeable?” Mick shrugged out of a battered brown flyer’s jacket. Marlee remembered fondly when he’d saved up to buy it, or one just like it.
“A customer by the name of Wylie Ames.” She rattled off the reason for his call.
Mick took the message she’d scribbled on a corner of a brown grocery bag. “Wylie’s a good guy. He’s a forest ranger who lives year-round on a remote station on the Glacier Park perimeter. He’s the only official presence in thirty square miles.”
Marlene wrinkled her nose. “He could do with some manners.” Turning, she slid the potatoes in the oven and began to shuck corn.
Pappy had stirred when Mick entered. Stifling a yawn, he said, “You probably wanna steer clear of Ames, girl. Old-timers up-region say his wife disappeared in the dead of night. Just like that.” Pappy tried to snap his gnarled fingers.
Looking up from peeling corn silk, Marlee’s mouth sagged. “You mean people think he—” She broke off and cast a worried frown toward Jo Beth.
Mick hobbled to the couch, sat and picked up one of the child’s plastic dolls, turning it in his big hands. “Don’t pay Pappy any mind,” he said. “Those are crazy rumors, sis. You know how folks in the back country love to gossip. With each repeat, their bear stories get fiercer and fish tales bigger. Wylie’s a good man raising his son alone. Dean is a few years older than Jo Beth. So, you said Wylie expects his stuff when?”
Her mind shifted from Pappy’s warning. “Next Wednesday, he thinks, or Thursday. He said you could call Morrison’s parts house if you don’t hear by Thursday morning.” She found the griddle for cooking steaks and plugged it in.
Pappy Jack faced Mick. “What did the doc have to say about your hip?”
Marlee’s ears perked up.
“Same old, same old, Pappy. Hey, isn’t it good to see Marlee fixing us some decent food for a change?”
Pappy spiked a bushy brow. “Same old, how? You mean the bone doc still wants you in ASAP to replace that socket.”
“Mick? You need more surgery?” Alarmed, Marlee straightened and anxiously twisted the top button on her blouse.
Her brother pursed his lips. He took his time arranging Jo Beth’s doll in a tiny chair. He even clamped a bonnet hair dryer from the toy set over the doll’s head.
“You mean the boy didn’t tell you he’s put off havin’ that joint replaced nigh on four months now?” He turned to his grandson. “When Rusty Meyer called to say he couldn’t fill in to fly our freight runs, I thought you told him that it was okay ’cause Marlee was due in and she’d handle the route?”
Mick sent his grandfather a killer scowl. “Pappy, why do you forget what the hell day it is, and whether or not you took your blood-pressure medicine, yet you remember every frigging detail of my private business?”
Even as Jo Beth pointed out her uncle’s bad word, Marlee presented him with her back while she slapped steaks on a grill beginning to heat up. “Mick…I—”
He broke in. “I know, you made it clear you didn’t come here to fly. Josh Manley at the flying school in Kalispell has a student close to qualifying for solo. Unless the weather turns bad, he thinks the kid could manage our day runs. If he graduates in time. Of course, I’d have to notify Angel Fleet to take my name off their roster for mercy missions.”
“They still operate here? Why don’t people just use 911?”
“Oh, you city girl. Out here volunteers for Angel Fleet are 911.”
“I didn’t know you flew sick, injured or dying people around, Mick.” Marlee spun toward him, hands on her hips. “What else have you neglected to tell me?”
“Cloud Chasers is the charter service best situated to airlift needy folks out of the remote wilderness. Besides, most flights are tax-deductible. It helps offset the red.”
“Doesn’t Glacier Park have a search-and-rescue team?”
“Summers. They have a couple of small choppers. Since I’ve come home, I’ve seen an increase in accidents. They mostly occur in new, fairly inaccessible bed-and-breakfast sites or at fishing and hunting lodges. Tourists have discovered our area, Marlee.”
“I know you said one outfit cleared trees and put in a vineyard. And another planted a huge apple orchard. I suppose their workers might get hurt,” she said unhappily. “I’m just not sure about this growth….”
“Growth is good for Cloud Chasers. More lodges laying in food, liquor and such. I fly customers in and out. I didn’t think it’d be right to make money off tourists and not fly them to hospitals if they get hurt out here.”
“I suppose not. Besides, you know firsthand how a quick rescue can spell the difference between life and death. Which brings us back to the surgery Pappy said you need.” Marlee flipped the steaks. When Mick remained silent, she asked him again.
“Things aren’t that desperate yet,” he said, heaving a sigh.
When Marlee glared at him, she noticed him rubbing his face wearily with both hands. “Dammit, Mick, let’s have the truth,” she demanded, totally ignoring her daughter’s hissy fit over Mom’s swearing.
“The local sawbones says if I don’t get the socket in my left hip replaced soon, it’s gonna wear away the ball joint. Today I got a second opinion. Same report.”
“Pain?” She didn’t let up.
“Yeah. More all the time. I can’t take anything except industrial strength, over-the-counter, anti-inflammatory meds and still fly. But it’s my problem, Twin, not yours. I’ve got my fingers crossed that Manley will pass that student. My routes are straight-up flying. As a rule,” he added.
“I’ve seen some of those rinky-dink landing strips,” she said drily, dumping corn into boiling water. “Do you feel like setting the table?” she asked, changing the subject.
He climbed slowly to his feet. Marlee saw what it cost him to try to do that with panache. She said nothing else until they were all seated at the table, and Jo Beth had offered a simple prayer. Pappy alone dug into his meal.
“Out