Turbulence. Dana Mentink

thinking.”

      He gave her a curious look as the plane banked and sliced through a storm-washed sky.

      She closed her eyes and gave herself to sleep.

      They’d been in the air for two hours going on a lifetime. The plane was a six-seater Cessna, and Paul could see Maddie’s chestnut hair just over the top of the seat in front of him. He couldn’t decide if he had caught the scent of her, the fragrance she always wore that reminded him of cinnamon, or if it was the cruel taunting of his memory.

      Dr. Wrigley’s surreptitious glances in his direction didn’t help him relax. “What?” Paul said finally, turning to him. “What’s on your mind?”

      “I’m worried.”

      “About what?”

      Wrigley raised an eyebrow. “Flying with an unstable, grief-blinded woman, for one.”

      “She’s not unstable.”

      “No? Well blaming the hospital and the both of us for the tragedy isn’t rational. She’s bought into her father’s madness. He’s had it against me since grad school.”

      When you had an affair with his fiancée? Paul imagined his own wrath if someone had tried to steal Maddie from him. The pain in his gut reminded him she was not his anymore. He cleared his throat. “She’s just here to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

      Wrigley’s eyes narrowed. “And the man from Heartline. Do you know him?”

      Paul looked at the passenger he’d been trying to identify since they took off. “No. Maybe Maddie does.” He sighed, thinking about how much he’d lost since they’d broken up. It had been a little more than a year since the accident, two months since he’d last spoken to her, and then it was merely a strained conversation outside a lawyer’s office. She seeking a civil suit against the drunk driver who killed her nieces, and he in search of any kind of help for the same man, whom, in spite of everything, Paul loved.

      His older brother, Mark, who was in prison.

      Paul pushed away the ever-present pain and tried to read his book. This one was set in a submarine. The hero a rugged ex-marine who would accept no failure. Big guy, big guns, lots of good one-liners. If only things were so black and white. You wanted something, you worked hard at it and bingo: dreams came true.

      He’d learned early on that, in the field of medicine, dogged determination didn’t keep damaged hearts beating. Hard work and a brilliant understanding of the human body wasn’t enough.

      And sometimes love wasn’t, either. It was ironic that he could hardly look at Maddie due to the guilt, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her for a single moment. He leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and tried to refocus on the book.

      After the okay from the pilot, he saw Dr. Wrigley check his emails.

      “It’s from Director Stevens—‘Sorry I missed the flight. Thanks for “having a heart” and taking my place. Look forward to your report next week. Keep your eyes on that heart.’” Wrigley grimaced. “Funny guy. I thought I’d had enough of his jokes when he pawned off a meeting on me yesterday and flew the memo into my office on a paper airplane. I had better things to do than sit next to a heart all the way to Washington.”

      Paul smiled at the thought of Dr. Wrigley chasing a paper airplane. He instinctively glanced at the box between them.

      Keep your eyes on that heart.

      If anything happened to that biomechanical miracle, it would most likely mean death for Bruce Lambert. There would be no time to procure another device, with all the red tape that had to be plowed through, and the unreliable quantity of human transplants made that option unfeasible at this late hour in Bruce’s journey.

      Paul pictured the powerful man as he had been that night in the emergency room last year—scared, defiant, even through the pain.

      And at the news Paul hadn’t been able to save the children?

      Incalculably angry.

      Paul wished that he could lose himself in anger, too, steep in the rage that would drive away darker feelings. The emotion that filled him to overflowing was guilt, wrapped in a terrible sorrow for the children.

      For Bruce Lambert.

      For his brother Mark.

      And most of all for Maddie and what they had lost. Bruce’s rage bled into his daughter, proving to Paul that love and anger weren’t compatible. One feeling must crystallize at the top, like the unbreakable sheet of ice atop a frozen lake.

      Whatever love Maddie had felt for him before the accident was frozen under the icy weight of her fury and her father’s.

      He should read, take his mind off the stew of memories, but even the rollicking adventure novel didn’t stir his interest.

      Paul looked out the window, taking in the rugged Cascade Mountains, snowcapped and sharp against the gray sky. The plane dropped below the cloud cover and more of the Washington terrain came into focus. White-capped peaks, the vivid green of trees against the snow. He wondered why they were flying so low.

      It reminded him of winters in Yosemite. So crisp, cold. So beautiful it hurt to look at it.

      They’d been planning a honeymoon there, at the old Ahwahnee Hotel. He could imagine it so clearly. Moonlight dancing on snow, the bottomless blue of her eyes, her cheeks flushed with her love of him and that irrepressible joy that always filled her. It was that persistent hope and optimism that enabled Maddie to get broken people on their feet again, to will them through the pain of physical therapy and back on track to living. He’d loved her desperately for that.

      His ruminations stopped abruptly as the plane lurched violently.

      Dr. Wrigley peered around Paul’s shoulder. “What was that?”

      There was a crash from the cabin and a thud, as if something had slammed into the door.

      The pilot’s voice came over the radio, garbled and indistinct.

      Dr. Wrigley grabbed his arm. “What did he say?”

      Paul struggled out of his seat, instinct screaming at him to get to Maddie, as the floor moved beneath his feet.

      “Hold on!” His shout was lost in the cacophony of engine noise as the plane dropped.

      His gut knew what was happening, even if his brain could not comprehend.

      Their plane was going down.

      TWO

      Maddie was awakened by a strange jumble of noise and a thunderous concussion that would have thrown her from her seat if not for her seat belt. The cabin shuddered and bucked while it filled with a dense black smoke. It seemed as though the floor was the deck of a ship in high seas as it heaved under her feet.

      She looked wildly through the smoke. “What’s happening?”

      Jaden’s face was barely visible through the choking blackness. “I think we might have hit a pinnacle of rock. The pilot’s trying to keep it in the air.”

      The words froze her for a moment. “Trying to keep it in the air?” The thought went through her like a knife. Save the heart. With frantic fingers, she fumbled at the buckle of her seat belt.

      A strong sucking wind pulled everything toward the opposite side of the cabin, now illuminated by the glow of the flame. Where was Paul? Had he been injured? Some papers and a blue blanket whirled by her face. She saw Jaden free his backpack from under the seat in front of him and cradle it like a baby. He looked resigned.

      Maddie was not. She would make it down the aisle and get that box. Finally, the catch on the buckle gave and she ripped the seat belt off. The acrid smoke grew denser, expanding into every inch of space above their heads. She kept her head bowed, trying to inhale the cleaner air below, and struggled to her