nice. No one would ever say that about her, that was for sure.
“Maybe it would be better not to know. You know, ignorance is bliss and all that.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You gave me a new lead to look into with Dad. I haven’t had one in years. I can’t wrap my head around him being involved in anything illegal. But what do I know? I thought he wasn’t the type to ever leave us, either.”
“Hopefully, this has nothing to do with him,” she said.
“Hopefully,” he agreed wistfully. “But I’d rather have the truth hurt than not know anything at all.”
* * *
Sean exhaled, his mind racing. He sorted everything that had happened into categories and tried to prioritize what to think about first. One thought kept rising to the surface, demanding that he think about it even if it hurt. Was his family involved in this in any way? Was it just coincidence that they were using Loomis-Callaghan land, or was Sean a fool who’d been intentionally kept in the dark?
And who were the others he was referring to, anyway? “Did you recognize anyone?” he asked Deanna.
“A few. I saw Rex Turner,” she said, frowning. “Our businesses are steps away from each other. I see him every day, and I eat my lunch at the Wagon Wheel a couple times a week at least. He’s always been so nice to me.”
Sean nodded. “And I think I broke Greg’s nose.”
“I can’t imagine Greg being involved in this. At least, I don’t want to imagine it.”
“Me neither.”
Greg Martin was one of their former classmates. He wasn’t someone either of them would have called a close friend, but definitely more than an acquaintance. Another twelve-year vet who’d started kindergarten with them. In school, Greg was the clown, the guy everyone liked because he made people laugh.
“I bought a fishing license from him at the hardware store last week,” Sean said. “I’ve been laughing all week at a joke he told me. I never would have guessed this.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to be finding out a lot more people we’d never expect are in on this,” Deanna said. “I wish I could unknow all this. If I could go back, I’d never land in that meadow.”
* * *
There had been something else Deanna saw down there that Sean should know, but he wasn’t going to like it. She cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully.
“You’re pretty tight with Sheriff Johnson, right?” she asked.
“Jim’s one of my best friends,” Sean said. “Why?”
“I saw the sheriff’s department decal on one of the trucks down there.”
She added quickly, “I didn’t see the sheriff. It just seemed strange that one of their vehicles would be anywhere near there.”
“Maybe they’re making an arrest,” Sean said.
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” she mumbled unconvinced, but her attention was back on the fuel situation. It was dropping rapidly.
“Uh, this isn’t looking good...”
Before she could say more, the noisy buzz of the engine went dead quiet. A small cry of alarm escaped her lips.
“What just happened?” Sean asked, his voice too loud against the silence.
Deanna shook her head. Her vocal cords rebelled, as if speaking it aloud would make the situation more real than it already was. She swallowed. She was the pilot. It was imperative that she keep her cool.
“Tighten your seat belt, Sean.”
His frightened gaze met hers.
“The fuel tanks in the wings must have been hit by the bullets,” she explained.
“Are you telling me we have no fuel?”
Deanna closed her eyes briefly, then forced herself to admit it. “We have no fuel and no working engine, either.”
She wished she and God were on better terms. Help me. It was all she knew to say. “You’re a religious man, right?”
“Religious isn’t exactly how I’d define it, but I guess you could say that.”
“Then I recommend you start praying.”
“Are we crashing?” He asked, his ever-steady voice finally wavering.
“No. We are not crashing,” Deanna insisted. “But get ready, because we are going down for an off-airport landing.”
“A what?”
She pointed out the window. “See that alfalfa field?”
“Yes. I own it.”
“Well, now it’s our new airport.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was.” She met his gaze again. “Brace yourself.”
A tangible silence sat between Deanna and Sean like another passenger as the plane glided noiselessly toward the ground. Sean prayed but kept his eyes wide open. If death was near, he wanted to see it coming. Would Dad be waiting for him on the other side?
Deanna aimed for the field below. For the second time in a day, she would be landing on Loomis land. And for the second time that day, Sean wondered if he would survive it when she did.
He’d plowed and planted this field himself. This alfalfa would become the hay they needed to feed livestock during the long winter months ahead when grazing wouldn’t be an option. The plants were nearly ready for second cutting. How much damage to his crops were they about to do? Would he be alive to even care, or had all that work last spring been simply the preparation of his own grave?
The twenty-acre field sat atop a plateau and wrapped around a brush-filled ravine that was too steep to farm. Somehow Deanna would need to land in the impossibly narrow strip between the sprinkler lines on the left and the timberline on the right without hitting the ravine.
At the far end of the field, Uncle Paul’s farmhouse sat tall and white, the only spectator to the event. Sean’s breathing shallowed as helplessness enveloped him. He watched the ground and the possibility of death come closer and closer.
Sean had always been a doer. He preferred keeping his ducks neatly in a row so life couldn’t surprise him. He hated surprises. But life had a mind of its own and seemed to enjoy humbling him. Live or die here, it wasn’t his call. Sean could do nothing but trust God and the skill He’d given Deanna.
In the final moments of descent, Deanna barked orders. “Get your seat up and make sure your belt is tight. This is going to sound crazy, but when I get close to the ground, I want you to open your door.”
“What?”
“You won’t fall out. Trust your seat belt. If the cockpit gets crunched on impact, the doors could get jammed shut. Plus, we might need to jump out fast.” She pointed behind her seat. “See that backpack? I’ve got an old jacket in there. I need you to use it to cover up the latch so the door can’t swing back and close itself again.”
If he didn’t worry that arguing with her would distract her, he would say more. It was counterintuitive to open his door when they were about to crash. But she was the pilot, and she knew best, so he kept his mouth shut and followed her instructions. Lord, please help us live through this.
The field came at them fast. What would the moment of touchdown feel like? The alfalfa looked like green grass and stood a foot to a foot and a half tall. It appeared lush and soft, level even, but it only hid how uneven and rock hard the