Chapter 14

Brianna and I sit at the airport at our gate, neither of us saying a word.

Brock and Dave sit across from us, also not speaking.

Finally Brock opens his mouth. "This is a huge aircraft, just like the one we flew out on. It's not a small chartered plane flying over the choppy English Channel."

Is that supposed to make us feel better? Instead we'll be flying over the Atlantic Ocean, which is way bigger than the Channel.

Brianna grips her cell phone. "I need to talk to Jesse."

"He's in rehearsal," Brock says. "Besides, you just talked to him an hour ago."

She gulps audibly. "I know."

"Look," Brock says, "we all have to just get a grip. We are safer in the air than in a car. We all know that. And besides, our plane didn't crash. We lived."

"Is Rory okay?" Brianna asks.

"She is. She was pretty shaken up," Brock says, "but we all were. We had a few days to recoup. None of us thought we would be getting on a plane this soon."

I close my eyes. "The first thing I said when we got off the plane was that I was never setting foot on an airplane again."

"How did you think you'd get home after the tour?" Brock asks.

"Honestly, I wasn't thinking that far ahead. I thought I had a couple of months to figure that out. And maybe I'd be over my fear of flying by then."

Brock chuckles. "I suppose there's always an ocean liner."

Maddie rolls her eyes. "Very funny."

"Do you think they give out tranquilizers in the first-class cabin?" Brianna asks.

And I honestly can't tell if she's joking or not.

"Everything's going to be okay, Bree," Dave says. "I don't want either of you to worry."

Dave and I have been intimate, and Brock and Brianna are engaged to two of my siblings. Plus Brianna and I have been friends for years.

Still, I feel like the odd one out here.

Again.

I'm getting on a plane with three Steel cousins, and I'm flying first class again, on their dime.

I haven't even told my mother and father I'm coming home.

They'll be happy I'm home, though. I'll most likely be able to go back to school. At this point, I've only missed a couple of weeks.

But then I'll be in Grand Junction, and Dave will be on his ranch outside Snow Creek.

On the other hand, whatever's going on with his family may not give him a lot of time to spend with me.

Something I hadn't considered before, but I consider it now.

He's not sitting with me. He's sitting with Brock.

I jerk as a voice comes over the intercom. "We are now boarding flight nine forty-seven nonstop from Paris to Denver. Boarding group one, you may board."

We all rise and gather our carry-ons. I force my feet to work as I grip my passport and my phone. I scan my boarding pass and follow Brock and Dave onto the aircraft. Brianna follows behind us.

We get onto the plane, and I check my seat assignment, expecting it to be next to Brianna.

It's not.

It's with Dave, and Brianna and Brock are together with lie-back seats.

"Oh," I say, when I see my seat.

He smiles at me. "I thought it might be nice if we enjoyed the flight together. Is that okay?"

I take a deep breath in. "As long as you don't mind me gripping on to you for dear life."

"If it comes to that, I don't mind if you're on my lap." He smiles.

Some of his joviality has returned. But he's not back to the Dave who met us in Europe before the fiasco on the chartered plane.

"How'd you get through this?" I ask. "You seemed so calm when it was all happening, but then afterward, you were as shaken up as anyone. But now…"

He closes his eyes and breathes in. "I'm trying to focus on gratitude, Maddie. On the second chance we were given. And honestly, going to the Louvre helped me a lot."

"Yeah, you mentioned that at dinner. But you didn't say much more."

He frowns. "I'm not sure it's anything I can put into words really. Just seeing the works of the great masters, learning about them, thinking about how much more there is to life than any singular incident. Plus, like I said, we're pre-disastered now."

I laugh. Sort of. It sounds more like a joke.

"I'll feel better once the plane is in the air," he says.

"You sure about that?"

"Not really." He lets out a short laugh. "But I'll get a cocktail."

I smile at him, reach over, and squeeze his hand. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here with me. For the necklace. For the last couple of days together. I just want you to know that whatever happens, I appreciate everything. This meant something to me."

"It meant something to me too, Maddie," he says. "And it means something to me. Present tense. This isn't over. Not by a longshot."

"I didn't mean to imply that it was."

He cups my cheek. "Then stop talking in past tense. I'll probably be busy when we get home, dealing with family stuff. But I will make time for you. We'll see how this goes."

I nod.

And then we wait. Being in the first boarding group isn't all it's cracked up to be because we get to sit here and ruminate while everyone else gets on the plane. And it's a really big plane.

Once everyone has boarded, a flight attendant shuts the door.

The plane begins to taxi.

My heartbeat races, and sweat beads on my forehead. I try to take a breath in, but it's shaky. I hold on to Dave's hand for dear life and bury the other one deep into my armrest, my knuckles white.

The flight attendants' voices, first in French and then in English, are garbled. Jumbled noise coming at me yet going through me.

Taxi, taxi, taxi…

And then I brace myself as the plane accelerates…

"Everything's okay," Dave says above the roar of the engines.

Still, I'm freaked, and when the plane first lifts from the ground, I have to force down nausea.

Then Dave, jovial Dave, leans over to me. "We can always join the mile high club."

And I feel better. So much better.

Not that I want to join the mile high club. Airplane bathrooms are so small and kind of gross.

I close my eyes then. Try to still the beating of my heart as I swallow down the queasiness.

To my surprise, the nausea stays down, and within a few moments we're airborne and leveling out.

I don't dare look out my window. In fact, I wish Dave and I had traded seats so he was by the window.

I close the shade.

I close my eyes again.

Send out good vibes to the universe or God or whomever that the plane will safely bring us home to Colorado.

Half an hour later, Dave nudges me. "They're coming around with cocktail orders. Do you want something?"

"I didn't look at the menu."

"Take a look now, or just order whatever you want."

I blink. "I'd love a sidecar."

"Good enough."

When the flight attendant gets to us, Dave orders. "I'll have a Knob Creek, neat, and the lady would like a sidecar."

"Have you made your selections for your dinner yet?" she asks.

Dinner, right. I haven't looked at that menu either.

"Maddie?" he asks.

"I'm sorry. I haven't looked at the menu. Could you just tell me what there is?"

"Of course, mademoiselle. We have a lovely boeuf bourguignon or a chicken Cordon Bleu."

"I'll have the chicken, please."

"Same for me," Dave says, "and a glass of the Burgundy, please." Then he turns to me. "I'm sorry, did you want wine?"

I shake my head. "I'm going to keep it to one drink."

"Sounds good."

A few moments later, my sidecar arrives, and I take a drink of the cocktail made with cognac, lemon juice, and a sugared edge. It's always been one of my favorites. I finish, and when our dinners arrive, I ask for water.

Dave and I don't talk a lot as we eat, which is fine. The chicken is great—another perk of this first-class ticket I didn't pay for. You can't go wrong with tender chicken breast stuffed with ham and cheese topped with a Dijon and white-wine sauce. Still, though, the nerves about the flight are there, and I only finish about half my dinner. Then I close my eyes, hoping to escape my anxiety.

And hoping that my dinner stays down.

Someone nudges me.

"Hey, Maddie."

I open my eyes. It's Dave.

"Baby, we landed."

My vision is blurry. I blink a few times to focus. "Are you kidding me? I slept through the whole thing?"

Yeah, I did, because I have to go to the bathroom really badly. I'll have to wait until we get off the plane at this point.

"You did. It was a totally smooth flight. No turbulence at all." He lifts the shade on my window. "See? We're here, Maddie. We're in Denver. We're almost home."

I heave a sigh of relief. The plane is taxiing, and it stops when we get to our gate.

"I can't believe it's over."

He grins. "See? I told you we were pre-disastered."

I give him a good-natured swat in the arm. "Yeah, you did."

We remove our seatbelts and gather our carry-ons. A few moments later we're deplaning. Brock and Brianna are in front of us.

"All right," Brock says. "On to baggage claim and then through customs. I've got a driver waiting to take us home."

"Ugh," I say. "A four-hour drive."

"You'll be comfortable, Maddie. We'll be in a limo."

I've been in more limos since this whole thing began than I've ever been in my life. Crazy stuff.

But I can't think about any of it anymore.

I'm oddly awake, though, probably because I slept through the whole flight.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"It's eight p.m.," Brock says, "Colorado time."

My stomach lets out a growl. "I'm kind of hungry."

"Yeah, we'll grab a bite before we take the long drive home."

Dave whispers in my ear. "I'm kind of disappointed. You were asleep, so we couldn't join the mile high club."

"Dave, that's really kind of gross."

He smiles. "I sort of agree, but it seems like it should be a rite of initiation for one of the original three Rake-a-teers."

I feel a hook catch in my heart. "So you still consider yourself a Rake-a-teer, huh?"

He shrugs. "We'll see. For the right woman, I'm willing to give all that up." He smiles at me again.