Flying Home - Mary Wilson Anne

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woman looked up and nodded. “Why, of course, that’s why I’m here.”

      Merry motioned behind her. “Was that Gage Carson?”

      Obviously the wrong way to start the conversation. Privacy had to be one thing a moneyed business, like a luxury jet charter, offered its clientele without any question. The woman’s expression changed from warm to cautious. “Is there a problem?”

      “Oh, no,” Merry said quickly. “I just hadn’t heard anything about him being back...in Wolf Lake. You see, our hometown’s so small, everyone knows everything about everybody and no one mentioned he had made a visit.”

      “Maybe he hasn’t made it there yet,” the woman offered, confirming to Merry that he was heading there.

      Perfect. “Maybe not,” she conceded, trying to control her growing excitement. “I just never expected to see him here, either. You know, on a charter. After all, the word is he’s got tons of money. But maybe it makes more sense to lease instead of buy. I don’t know anything about big business.”

      The woman seemed a bit put off by Merry’s confession. “I wouldn’t know, but most men in his position have a company plane. He’s no different.”

      His own plane! She felt like screaming, “Yes,” and pumping her fist, but instead she shrugged. “Of course.”

      “You’re friends with Mr. Carson?” the woman asked, the smile all but gone now.

      “I knew him since we were kids,” she said, deliberately slanting the truth toward the idea that they’d been close. Merry left without another word and carried her bags across to the store that Gage had entered.

      She stepped in, and spotted him in a rear display area, looking at snow globes. He lifted one, shook it, put it back, and repeated those actions as he worked his way through about a dozen or so ornaments. She took a breath, tried to still her hammering heart, then headed toward the man.

      CHAPTER TWO

      “A SNOW GLOBE INSPECTOR?” Merry asked, going for the silly approach as she got within a few feet of Gage Carson. She’d save the serious begging for later, when she worked up the nerve to ask him for a ride on his plane.

      The man turned at the sound of her voice, and she met the darkest brown eyes she’d ever looked into. They were narrowed on her, either from puzzlement or annoyance. She wasn’t quite sure. “Are you speaking to me?”

      “I’m sorry, I saw you checking out all the snow globes and I had images of...” She shook her head, stopping mid-sentence, knowing that hokey line had run its course. “I’ve always loved snow globes.” That was the truth.

      He surprised her by not dismissing her abruptly. “So does my mother, and I need a peace offering of sorts for when I see her. I missed Christmas with the family.” He glanced at the globe in his hand, and then put it back on the shelf. “The thing is, none of these seem right.”

      “What does she like—angels, Norman Rockwell scenes, Winnie the Pooh?” She glanced at the American flags encased in three of the globes. “Something patriotic?”

      He chuckled roughly at that and shook his head. “No, none of those seems quite right...” Merry scanned the globes and saw a smaller one sitting in a corner and reached for it. “Well, then, how about this?” She held it up to Gage after she shook it so the artificial snow was swirling around a solitary man in buckskins who stood with his head thrown back, and one hand raised to point to something he seemed to be yelling to. Then she saw the shadow on the glass, the smoky silhouette that was barely there, the suggestion of a wolf.

      Gage looked at it critically, then slowly took it from her hand and studied it. “Great,” he said as he twirled it in his strong fingers. Then his dark eyes met hers again. “Thank you...” He raised an inquiring eyebrow at her in a question.

      “Brenner,” she said. “Merry Brenner.”

      He twirled the globe again. “Well, Merry, she’ll love this,” he murmured. Merry had seen Gage’s mother, Lark Carson, a long time ago—a tiny woman with flowing black hair, a ready smile and a real pride in her Indian heritage. As the daughter of the man whose family had given his family name, Wolf, to the town, she could imagine her being particular about the general presentation of the Native spirit, even in a snow globe. And to have a wolf suggested in it would be specific to her. “It will really suit her,” she agreed.

      He glanced at her quizzically. “How would you know that?”

      She blinked, realizing what she’d said. She couldn’t take it back, so she pushed on. “You are Gage Carson, aren’t you?”

      He was obviously surprised. “How do you know me?” he asked, as his gaze flicked over her.

      “From Wolf Lake,” she said, letting him digest that and ask his own follow up question.

      And he did. “You’re from town?”

      “I was, a long time ago, but then I came back for work. I remember the stories about your grandpa helping form Wolf Lake.”

      He looked puzzled. “I really don’t remember any Brenners in town.”

      “You wouldn’t,” she started to say, ready to tell him her birth name, but she didn’t get the chance before the guard he’d spoken to earlier, came rushing up to him.

      “Sir, Mr. Carson? It’s all ready. Just pick up the papers, and head on out.”

      “Thanks,” Gage said, and when the guard left, he looked back at Merry as he held up the globe. “Thanks for your input.”

      “Sure, no problem,” she barely got the words out before he was on route to pay for the globe before ducking out of the store with the guard. Without a backward glance, he crossed the walkway and veered away from the charter service desk with the blonde still behind it.

      Merry could have kicked herself. Talk about handling the situation all wrong! She should have just walked up to him, introduced herself, and immediately asked for a ride on his plane. “Should have, could have, would have, but didn’t,” she muttered, angry with herself as she quickly rushed after him.

      Dragging her bag after her with one hand, the duffel in the other, she frantically tried to catch up to him as he cut diagonally across the seating area. His long stride was eating up the distance as he darted toward a side door marked “Private,” where another guard stood.

      When he stopped to show identification to the security guard, Merry called out, “Mr. Carson...Mr. Carson!”

      He frowned as she sprinted toward him, stopping within a few feet of him. She let the duffel and suitcase drop by her feet. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, breathless from the exertion. “I don’t mean to bother you, I really don’t,” she said. “But I need to ask you something, and you got away too fast in the store.”

      He didn’t bother hiding his impatience as he looked pointedly at his watch, then back to her. “What is it?”

      Mary filled him in on her predicament. She spoke in a rush of words, trying to get everything in before he up and left. “I can’t get out until tomorrow sometime, and that’s not acceptable because I’m needed back in Wolf Lake now.”

      He hadn’t moved while she spoke, and she barely paused to take a breath before going on. “Since you’re on your way there, and you’ve got your own plane, I was wondering if I could hitch a ride with you back home?”

      His intent gaze didn’t change for a long moment; he shattered her hopes with a shake of his head. “No, I can’t do that, and I’m in a hurry.”

      “Why not?” she asked before he could disappear through the door the guard had just pushed open for him.

      “It’s a company plane.” He held up one hand, palm toward her when she started to protest. “The rules are, no one gets on board

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