LITMIR.BIZ

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hands. “I had the best of all worlds going for me until this earthquake hit.”

      “Didn’t we all,” Morgan murmured. He frowned. “You look worn-out. What have you been doing? Walking? There’re no highways left to drive on.”

      “No kidding. I live over in Bonsall, which is about twenty miles from Camp Reed. When the quake hit, there wasn’t much I could do where I was. I figured that, since I’m very recently out of the navy, and am still qualified to fly a military helicopter, you might need my services here at the base.” Leaning forward, her voice filled with excitement, she said, “Morgan, I’ve come to volunteer to help fly in supplies. I know that Camp Reed is probably the only base up and running in the Los Angeles basin right now.”

      “You’re right about that. We’re it. No land vehicles can get anywhere near the epicenter of the quake, which is located in south L.A. Right now, we’re limited to helicopters ferrying food, water and medicine, or transporting those who need surgery to this hospital. We’ve got C-141 Starlifters bringing everything we need in to this airport, and taking some of the injured out to a hospital in Seattle.”

      “Yes, I saw a couple of Starlifters being unloaded on the apron,” Rhona murmured. “This airport is overwhelmed with traffic, both rotocraft and fixed wing.”

      “Yes, we are.”

      “I figured the pilots stationed here are about worn-out and you could use some fresh replacements. I’m volunteering to do that.” Rhona leaned forward, her voice low with concern. “I’m qualified to fly the UH-1N Huey, and the CH-46E Sea Knight, Morgan. I see they have both models down at the airport. Are you in a position here at the base to get me slotted as a relief pilot in either of them? I’ll go wherever you need me. I’d use my own chopper but it has been retrofitted for crop dusting. I left it tethered at my airport.” She smiled a little. “A pilot is a pilot, right?”

      Morgan felt a wave of warmth move through him. How like Rhona to volunteer. She was a good, strong woman who had an enduring work ethic and sense of community. “I think your Navajo blood is showing,” he stated in a husky tone. “This community is reeling from this earthquake and you’re pitching in. You could have stayed in Bonsall and fought for your own survival.”

      Shrugging, Rhona grinned. “Not me. I like being where the action is, Morgan. You know that. I might be a civilian now, but you can’t take the military out of my blood.” She saw Morgan’s blue eyes gleam approvingly. He picked up his pen and studied her thoughtfully.

      “Sure you wouldn’t like to close up your crop-dusting business and come work for me? I can use someone with your patriotism and moxie.”

      Laughing, Rhona shook her head. “Nah. Thanks, though, Morgan. I love to fly. I love Mom Earth. Being a crop duster and helping out with the food we put in our mouths makes me feel good. I guess I’m more Indian than I ever thought.”

      “Just because you don’t live on the res doesn’t lessen your ties with your people,” he said.

      “That’s true,” Rhona murmured. “My parents supported my decision to leave the navy. I had many talks with both of them. My mother, who is full blood, thought turning my energies and focus toward helping the earth was a far better use of my time.” Rhona grinned.

      Rummaging through a pile of papers teetering on his crowded desk, Morgan said, “Your mother’s right. It’s the navy’s loss, though…. I’ve got the flight schedules here. Let me look through them.” He scowled and ran his index finger down the pilot roster. “Ah…here we go. Lieutenant Nolan Galway just lost his copilot to a bad case of food poisoning….” Morgan lifted his head. “With no electricity except here on base, we’re learning that the box lunches we’re making in the chow hall need better refrigeration. We had four pilots go down. Nolan’s copilot was just taken out by Starlifter to Seattle. He had a dangerous kind of food poisoning. If it’s not nailed with antibiotics, it could stop his kidneys from functioning.”

      Shaking her head, Rhona murmured, “There’re all kinds of things out there that can bite us in the butt if we can’t keep foodstuffs properly refrigerated.” She patted her well-worn navy knapsack. “I walked twenty miles today and ate nothing but some granola bars. They’re a safe bet because they don’t need refrigeration.”

      “Wise woman,” Morgan replied. “Yeah, we’re overwhelmed here. Our refrigeration units are crammed, and with more planes and pilots coming and going, and civilians pouring into the base for food, water and medicine, we’re running into food poisoning more and more.”

      “So, you want me to partner up with Lieutenant Galway? Stand in as his copilot and work his flight schedule?”

      “Yes, I do.” Morgan picked up the phone. “Let me contact Ops and get you officially on the roster.”

      “I’ve got proof of my flight proficiency and training right here if you want to look at them.” She patted her knapsack, which rested on her lap.

      Shaking his head, Morgan punched in the number for the flight desk officer at Ops. “Not necessary. I know you’re qualified, Rhona.”

      Her heart beat a little harder. Looking around the small, spare green office, Rhona realized she had missed life in the military, after all. Well, maybe some of it. What she didn’t miss were the Neanderthal males who thought women pilots weren’t their equals. Her hearing keyed on Morgan’s deep voice as he spoke to a Major Hickman, who was apparently the commanding officer of the pilot roster judging by the discussion Morgan was having with him. Smiling to herself, Rhona decided Morgan could charm a dead person back to life, he had such a persuasive gift of gab. Not many people had it. At Thane and Paige’s wedding, Rhona had been entranced by Morgan and his blond-haired wife, Laura. They were such a loving couple. What was nice was they’d been married for a long time and were obviously still in love and happy with one another.

      Sighing internally, Rhona realized that would never happen for her. The look in Laura’s eyes as she’d gazed adoringly up at Morgan during the ceremony was something Rhona kept in her heart of hearts. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a man adore her, love her, in the same way?

      Hearing Morgan hang up, Rhona lifted her chin and looked at him. He seemed pleased.

      “You’re in,” Morgan said. “Major Hickman is jumping up and down for joy.”

      “He knows I’m a woman?”

      “Yes, and he didn’t bat an eyelash over it. In his book—and he’s the head of the flight desk operations over there—you’re a warm body who knows how to fly a chopper. He doesn’t give one whit about your gender.”

      “Great!”

      Morgan frowned. “You’ve got to be hungry. Twenty miles you walked? That’s a helluva hike, Rhona. You look a little tired, too.”

      Shrugging her thin shoulders, Rhona murmured, “Listen, growing up on the res and running after a flock of sheep, I could put in twenty miles a day keeping up with them as they foraged for grass on that red desert.”

      “Still,” Morgan said, standing, “I told Major Hickman you’d see him in about two hours. You need to get some food in your stomach.” Brightening as he came around the desk, he asked, “Were you able to let your parents know you’re okay? I’m sure they’re worried sick about you since Bonsall is south of the epicenter of the quake.”

      Rising, Rhona murmured, “Yes, I have a cell phone.” She patted the leather case on her belt. “I got ahold of Paige in Sedona. There’re no cell phones up on the res, so I called her and asked her to contact my parents the old-fashioned way—via a real live telephone.”

      Chuckling, he slid his arm through hers and guided her toward the door. “Good. I’m sure they’re resting easier knowing you’re safe. Come on, I’m going to take you to see Laura. She’s up at the hospital recovering from ankle surgery. I’ll order in a tray of food for you while you two chat and catch up with one another.”

      “Laura’s hurt?”

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