Off The Grid Christmas. Mary Ellen Porter

      “We’ll be fine.” He hoped. There was a problem with the left flap on the wing of the plane. For now he could still fly, but depending on the issue, his ability to control altitude and speed of the aircraft could definitely be affected—the higher they flew, the worse it would be. More of a concern was the fuel pressure gauge that was definitely reading lower than it should. If they lost fuel pressure, they’d have no choice but to make an emergency landing.

      “Define fine,” she demanded, her face so pale even her lips were white. She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and a face that was more intriguing than beautiful. She also had a brain that rivaled anyone Kane had ever met—she’d definitely give his academically focused parents and those in their social circle a run for their money.

      Lying to her wasn’t going to work.

      Even if it would have, he wasn’t going to do it. Truth was always the best way. Even if the truth was sometimes difficult to swallow.

      “A bullet may have hit the wing flap,” he said, bracing himself for Arden’s full-out panic.

      To his surprise, she simply nodded.

      “That’s what I thought. I suppose you have a plan?”

      “Yeah. Get the plane back down and fix the problem.”

      “Is there another airport close by?”

      “It doesn’t matter. I won’t run the risk of landing anywhere in Maine if I can help it.” GeoArray seemed to have connections and resources. He was pretty sure the company could quickly mobilize the troops wherever he put down.

      “What if you can’t make it out of Maine?”

      “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” And if Kane was reading the gauges correctly, they’d be fortunate to make it across the border into New Hampshire.