Porter was performing beautifully, its engine purring like a contented cat.
There was no way to explain the premonition that ran along his spine like the stroke of an icy fingertip; the sense that something dire was about to happen. It was a feeling Dragan recognized from his boyhood years in Sarajevo when shells and mortars would rain out of the sky to explode in hellish bursts of flame. Back then, that danger sense had kept him alive. But why should he feel it now? Everything was fine.
By the time they sighted Ketchikan the twins were awake and fussing. The floats skimmed the water as Dragan landed the plane and taxied to the fuel dock by the small airport. Across the harbor, the town lay along the narrow edge of pine-forested mountains. Autumn was already setting in. The cruise ships were gone, the dockside souvenir shops closed. Fishing boats plied the waters for the last of the seasonal catch.
While Tessa changed her little girls and fed them snacks from her bag, Dragan ordered the tank filled and walked uphill to the terminal to pay for the fuel. At the snack bar he picked up a couple of sandwiches and some bottled water. On his return, he found Tessa sitting in the cockpit, her babies once more buckled into their safety seats.
“Hungry?” He held up the wrapped sandwiches. “Chicken or ham and cheese. Your choice.”
“Either one, thanks. But first I could use a restroom. And I need to dump these somewhere.” She held up a plastic bag sagging with the damp weight of what smelled suspiciously like dirty diapers. “Could you keep an eye on my girls for a few minutes? I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for an answer she opened the passenger-side door, climbed down to the float and stepped onto the dock. Dragan watched as she tossed the bagged disposable diapers into a trash can and strode up the long ramp to the terminal, her purse slung over her shoulder.
As he wolfed down the ham sandwich, Dragan watched her, admiring the confidence in her long, easy strides. She was a strong woman. She would have to be, to survive what she’d been through. And she was intelligent. He liked smart women—the bland, clingy ones were no challenge. The thought of getting Tessa Randall into bed and driving her wild with pleasure was enough to stoke a simmering blaze in his loins. But it was time for a dash of cold water. He couldn’t let his attraction to her distract him from why they were there. Tessa and her lawyer were out to drag the name of his company through the mud. He’d be a fool to let himself forget that.
A cooing sound from the rear caught his attention. He turned in his seat to see Tessa’s twins gazing up at him. A nap and a meal had transformed the pair from little screaming monsters to cherubs from a Renaissance painting, with Titian curls and sky-blue eyes.
Dragan tended to avoid children. Their innocence tore at his heart, stirring shadowed memories, sights and sounds he wanted only to forget. He’d vowed never to have children of his own. There was too much suffering in the world, too much danger.
He scowled over the seat at the little girls. The twin on the right smiled and giggled. The one on the left scowled back at him. Tessa had told him they had different personalities. He could see that already.
“So what are you two thinking?” His voice startled the smiling twin. Her blue eyes grew even bigger. Her sister’s suspicious frown didn’t change. “If you could talk, what would you say to me?”
“Da.” The smiling twin—by now he’d guessed she was Missy—began to jabber, making little nonsense sounds that were her version of conversation. When she turned her head, Dragan could see the tiny mole on her earlobe. He’d guessed right.
“So how about you, Maddie?” He addressed her sister. “What do you think of all this?”
“Phhht!” The flawless raspberry was punctuated by an impressive spit bubble.
Dragan couldn’t hold back a chuckle. At last, a female who spoke her mind!
“I see you’re getting acquainted.” Tessa climbed back into the plane and closed the door.
“You’re right, they do have different personalities.”
“See, I told you. Maddie’s quiet and restless like her father. I guess Missy is more like me.”
“Snuggly—that was how you described her. Are you snuggly, too?” It would be fun finding out, he thought.
“No comment.” She fastened her seat belt and slipped on her headset, as if to shut him out. “Let’s get going.”
Dragan taxied away from the dock and swung the nose into the rising wind. The plane skimmed across the water and roared skyward. The air was getting rougher now, turbulence buffeting the wing and the fuselage. It was nothing that couldn’t be handled, but he’d be relieved when they touched down in Anchorage.
Yet he knew that the time was limited for him to learn all he wanted to know about Miss Tessa Randall. So far he wasn’t making much progress.
She’d finished her sandwich and sat silent as the plane rose above the turbulence and leveled off in calmer air. Was she nervous about the flight or had he crossed the line when he’d asked if she was snuggly? Maybe she’d had a talk with herself in the terminal and concluded that she was being too friendly with a man who was planning to rip her apart in court.
The only sound from the twins was Missy’s contented babbling. The twins, thank heaven, seemed to like the drone of the engine and the motion of the plane. He could only hope the tranquility would last.
They’d passed over the old Norwegian fishing village of Petersburg and were headed in the general direction of Sitka when Dragan happened to glance at the fuel gauge.
His heart dropped.
The indicator was almost on empty.
Dragan stared at the fuel gauge in disbelief. He’d watched the attendant fill the tank in Ketchikan. Given the distance they’d flown, it should be at least three-quarters full. But he had to trust what the indicator told him. The tank was almost empty.
The plane had to be leaking fuel. Nothing else made sense. Maybe the fuel line had broken or become disconnected, or some unseen object had punctured the tank. The problem might be as simple as the fuel cap coming loose. Whatever it was, he had to get the plane down before the fuel ran out and the engine quit.
Willing himself to keep calm, he glanced at Tessa. She was looking out the window and hadn’t noticed the falling gauge. Good. The last thing he wanted was to have her panic. He would try to keep her unaware until he had a plan.
The country below was a vast jigsaw puzzle of islands, inlets and fjords. Landing on water shouldn’t be a problem. But if he came down in the wilderness, he’d be marooned with a woman, two babies and no supplies. The plane had a radio, but with a storm coming in, any rescue might be days away. He needed to get his vulnerable passengers somewhere safe.
Clouds were rolling in ahead of the storm, already obscuring his view. He had to make a decision fast.
Petersburg was too far behind, Sitka too far ahead. But the company lodge where he flew wealthy clients might be within reach. He checked the plane’s GPS. The lodge was just thirty miles to the northeast. It was their best chance, maybe their only chance.
Banking the plane, he veered sharply to the right. The sudden move caught Tessa’s attention. “What’s happening?” she demanded. “Why are you turning us around?”
Dragan willed himself to speak calmly. “We’re losing fuel—almost out. We need to set down while we can.”
“Down there?” She stared out the window at the wild mosaic of forest and water.
“Not if I can help it. The company has a fishing lodge a few miles from here. If we can make it that far, we’ll have a safe place to stay until help comes.”
For a long moment she was still. Suddenly she turned on him,