A Healing Love. Doris English
sounds like a plane, but who would be foolish enough to fly in this weather? Must be a truck down on the state highway straining up Clingham’s Bluff with a heavy load.”
Then from directly above the house came the unmistakable whine of an airplane engine.
Laura joined Jonah and the two of them stood transfixed as they watched a small, single-engine plane lose altitude, its bright-red stripes glowing valiantly in the gray afternoon light.
Laura moaned, “He’s too low. He’ll never clear the mountain.”
With one last sputter, the engine died. They stared at the mountain now enveloped in fog, unable to tear their eyes from the little plane hurtling toward disaster. The small craft struggled on, before disappearing into the fog. A few moments later a flash of light pierced the gray shroud, then only silence reigned.
Laura whirled from the porch railing. “Papa,” she yelled over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs two at a time. “Call the hospital and tell them we’ll need to get a medivac copter from Louisville. I’ll saddle Maleeka and go on ahead. It may be a while before they can take off, since that storm is between the city and us.
“But, Laura, what can you do all alone up there?” Jonah protested.
Laura shot her grandfather a mischievous look. “Who was just reminding me what a competent doctor I am?”
Jonah McBride, acquiescing, nodded, a lock of thick white hair falling across his forehead. “Do you think there is a large enough level space for the copter to set down?”
“I believe there is a small plateau near the top,” Laura answered, her voice muffled by her closed bedroom door.
Laura had suited up and returned with bag in hand in record time. Her heart was pounding when Jonah met her at the bottom of the stairs, his deep-blue eyes grave with concern.
“I called the hospital. They’ll be ready. Won’t you wait for Mark? That trail is pretty treacherous after a storm. You know your mom got stranded on it one time.”
Laura smiled reassuringly at her granddad, all the while fighting the temptation to wait for Mark. She knew he had the afternoon off and her father was in surgery. She couldn’t risk the wait. Besides, didn’t she need to assume more responsibility?
“There’s a difference between Mom and me. I know the trail—she didn’t.”
“Nevertheless, it’s not safe to go up there alone. You know what kind of condition it’ll be in after that storm.”
“Do you think Mark could change the condition of the trail?”
“No, but being a man—”
“I can ride just as well as he can, Papa.”
“And doctor, too, but you might need just a little more muscle than you’ve got.” His eyes lingered on her small slender frame.
“We don’t have time to wait,” she responded gently when she encountered the fear in his eyes. Then she added with more confidence than she felt, “I’ll take some extra rope and let Maleeka make up for the muscle I lack. Suit you?”
“I guess it’ll have to. I’d give anything if these old legs would let me go up there with you. Maybe if we saddled up Stormy I might make it—”
Laura shook her head at her grandfather. “Dad would have my hide, Papa. Anyway, I need you here to direct the rescue and keep an eye out for my flares. I’ll drop some about every quarter of a mile once I get on the mountain, so you can follow my path. You will be more assistance here than on that narrow trail.”
“How are you going to get back down?”
“I don’t plan to let night catch me up there,” she said.
“What if it does?”
Laura shrugged nonchalantly and bent over to kiss her grandfather. “We McBride women seem attracted to that mountain. Don’t you worry. I won’t be the first one to spend the night up there if I have to.”
Her light tone did nothing to reassure Jonah, and he frowned, worry etched in every line of his face. “I don’t think that’s anything to make light of, Laura. Your mother was lucky she didn’t get hurt any worse than she did. You might not fare so well.”
“Luck, Grandfather? You know better than that. Mom’s destiny awaited her there. Who knows—maybe mine does, too. Anyway, we have no other choice and I could’ve already had Maleeka saddled by now. Your ‘grandfathering’ has overcome your medical instincts.”
“I just love you so, kitten,” he responded, his eyes moist and bright.
“I know, but I’m going to be all right. You just help me and your ‘kitten’ will be back before you know it,” she teased, as a lump in her throat threatened her studied composure. It had been a long time since her granddad had called her by that childhood endearment.
Laura spoke softly to Maleeka and the bay mare changed smoothly from canter to gallop as if sensing the urgency in the gentle command. For a few minutes her mistress remained tense in the saddle, as images of the disaster somewhere up above her tumbled through her mind.
Once again she was to face an emergency without the reassuring presence of Mark Harrod. She wrinkled her nose slightly at the thought of Mark and smiled. She had come to depend on him as a mentor, friend and adviser. He encouraged her when she was down, teased her unmercifully, yet was always protective of her. Perhaps her grandfather was correct—she had been hiding in Mark’s shadow, afraid to trust her own judgment.
Thick pine straw carpeted the trail, while the fragrance of cedar lingered in the air, fresh and clean smelling after the rain. The branches strewn here and there testified to the violence of the brief storm. What if there were larger trees ahead blocking the narrow path higher up the mountain? No need to borrow trouble; she would deal with that if and when she had to.
The broad trail eased up through the forest and she knew Maleeka would make good time for the first few miles. Soon the steady gait of her mare provided a rhythmic therapy. Her shoulders relaxed and her body leaned into her mount, as horse and rider became one.
The magnificent mare sensed the release and thundered through the forest. Gradually, the pure joy of riding pushed aside the memories of Laura’s hectic night, and the apprehension of what awaited her on the mountain retreated. For a few brief moments she gave herself completely to this balm of relaxation that could restore her alertness and quicken her reflexes.
Soon the grim line of her mouth eased but the fine lines of fatigue still lingered around her eyes. She closed them for a moment. The wind bathed her face in a refreshing coolness, and her abundant silvery blond hair escaped the scarlet ribbon that loosely bound it, to stream out behind her in wild profusion. Freckles sprinkled her slightly upturned nose and a determined chin hinted of an independent spirit, adding the final touch to a face that was half woman-half child and altogether enchanting.
The mare slowed her pace as the trail narrowed and bent sharply to the right, where it intersected another. They had reached the foot of the mountain. Laura reined Maleeka in and peered upward. The trail’s narrow, boulder-strewn surface was muddy and slick from the rain. Even though her mount was a strong, surefooted Arabian, it would take more than skill to maneuver up that mountain. She would need a miracle.
She hesitated, weighing her chances; then, unbidden, thoughts of Darlene and her immaculate city practice tripped through her mind. Had she envied Darlene’s life-style for its excitement? She chuckled while reaching into her saddlebag to drop her first flare. At least her grandfather would know exactly when she had started up the mountain.
About halfway up the steep trail Laura dropped a second flare. She glanced at her watch. It was 3:30, roughly four hours