Texas Heir. Linda Warren
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feet a wave of dizziness assailed her. The plane wasn’t level, so it made the dizziness worse. The cabin was pushed together and there was very little room. She gripped the wobbly captain’s chair and reached for the pulse in Reed’s neck. She didn’t find one. Ohmygod! No!
Take a deep breath. Stay focused.
Trying to keep her nerves from spiraling out of control, she stepped over more debris and made her way to Melody by holding on to parts of the shattered plane. The cabin was so mangled Cari couldn’t stand upright. She knelt by Melody, checking her pulse. None. Blood oozed from her head. Cari wouldn’t let herself think as she frantically tried to reach Fletcher. Parts of the plane dangled from above, blocking her reach. Then she smelled it.
Fuel.
Smoke.
Ohmygod!
Stay focused! They need you.
The door of the plane had been ripped away. She peered outside. A chilly foreboding swept over her and she trembled. The crushed plane was balancing precariously on a ledge or a mountain. She knew they had to get out and get out fast.
Her high heels crunched on Waterford crystal. She had a sudden urge to laugh hysterically—but she had to get them out. She couldn’t fall apart.
It was hard to stay balanced in her heels, but there was glass everywhere, so she couldn’t remove them. She unsnapped Reed’s seat belt and shook him. “Reed, wake up. Please, wake up.” He didn’t move or make a sound. Blood dripped from his head onto her hands. She grabbed a towel from the floor and wrapped it tightly around his head and then she pulled and dragged him as close to the door as she could. He weighed a ton but she never paused in her struggle. Once there, she placed his arms halfway out the door.
She glanced down, kicked off her heels and jumped. Since the door was tilted down, she misjudged the distance and almost fell flat on her face. Pain shot through her body, but she quickly scrambled to her feet. Looking up, she caught her breath. The opening seemed so far away. The plane was a mangled mess. How was she still living? Oh God! She had to take several deep breaths.
Focus! Focus!
She had to get Reed and the others out before the plane ignited. She stood on her tiptoes until she could grab Reed’s hands, and then she tugged and tugged with all her strength. Slowly, she inched him forward. Catching her breath, she reached for his armpits and dragged him out. Once his weight shifted, his body slid forward quickly and took them both to the ground. She struggled to her feet and grabbed hold of him once again. Her muscles strained and her arms burned, but she jerked and pulled until she had him safely away from the shattered plane.
Now she had to get Melody and Fletcher. Taking a deep breath, she sprinted back toward the plane. A loud explosion flung her backward. Flames roared through the crumpled fuselage.
No! No!
The excessive heat yanked her from the abyss of terror. She rose and pulled Reed farther away from the flames. Then she collapsed into a ball of fear, her body trembling uncontrollably.
She drew her knees to her chin. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she tried to stop the tremors. In a chilled stupor, she watched the smoldering plane until nothing was left but a melted heap of twisted metal.
Hot, smoldering metal.
The rain had stopped, so there was nothing to cool the offensive heat. She didn’t know how long she sat there lost somewhere between Dallas and this horrendous nightmare. When reality returned, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was holding Reed’s hand.
Praying.
Praying for a pulse. Praying he was alive. But he just seemed cold. The towel was soaked with blood, but it looked as if the bleeding might have stopped. That was good. More tears followed. She cried for Fletcher and Melody and she cried for life’s cruel injustice. After a moment she pulled herself together.
Looking around, it seemed as if they were on a crater of the moon—dirt and rocks and nothing else except an endless sky. Not the moon, but probably a mountain somewhere in west Texas.
They had to just wait and someone would find them.
Someone would rescue them.
She prayed it was in time to save Reed.
RICHARD PRESTON HUNG UP the phone as his wife, Vanessa, entered his study.
“Are you ready?” she asked. Even in her late fifties she was still an attractive woman with blond hair and a svelte figure flattered by a Vera Wang suit. She had the body of a dancer and she never grew tired of reminding him of what she’d given up for marriage and motherhood. He wasn’t going to think about that, though. They were getting along and their children were happy. Life was good.
“I don’t feel like going to the Maxwells’ for dinner,” he said, testing the waters. The Maxwells were her ballet friends and they bored him to death with endless chatter about the next greatest dancer to grace Lincoln Center.
When she frowned, he quickly added, “I just got off the phone with Clyde Harwood. He and Muriel are planning an engagement party for Reed and Daphne. They would like a list of guests by the end of the week.”
“So.” She lifted a finely arched eyebrow. “An evening with friends isn’t going to delay the list. Admit it, you just don’t want to go.”
“Maybe. I’m all keyed up about Reed’s engagement and I would prefer to stay home. Our son has made an excellent choice. Daphne is a charming, sophisticated young lady who will do the Preston name proud.”
“Yes, Daphne will make Reed an exceptional wife.”
Richard stood. “I was worried he’d fall for Cari Michaels.”
“Cari’s a nice girl and a very good friend to Marisa.”
“But she’s not suitable as a wife for our son.”
Vanessa sighed. “Oh, Richard, haven’t you learned your lesson? We almost lost Marisa and I will not tolerate you doing anything to jeopardize Reed’s happiness.”
“That’s what is so wonderful. Reed made the perfect choice all on his own.”
“I don’t know. Marisa seems to have reservations and I trust her instincts. I just hope Reed is as deeply in love as our daughter.”
“He is. You can see it.”
Vanessa nodded. “They make a lovely couple. Marisa is very fond of Cari and I think she’s more disappointed Reed and Cari didn’t get together than anything else.”
Richard smiled at his wife. “That’s it. Reed made a choice without pressure from Marisa or me. That’s why I’m so excited and would rather stay home to go over the guest list. It will be the party of the year.”
She lifted an eyebrow again. “Maybe. Get your jacket. You’re going tonight. We have something to celebrate.”
“Vanessa…”
A tap at the door stopped him. Winston, the butler, stepped in. “Sir, there’s a gentleman here to see you, a Mr. Darin Avery, a representative from the regional office of the National Transportation Safety Board.”
Richard frowned. “What does he want? Is there a problem with the plane?”
“I don’t know, sir. Would you like for me to send him in?”
“Yes.”
A balding man with a worried expression walked in. “Mr. and Mrs. Richard Preston?”
“Yes,” Richard replied. “What’s this about?”
“I regret to inform you the Dalton jet went down at 1439 hours somewhere in west Texas.”
Richard felt a blow to his chest. “What?”
“No!” Vanessa screamed and Winston rushed in.
“As