From Out Of The Blue

After her mother and Hayden had fallen asleep, Kate left the room

She walked to where the soda machine hummed and moths dashed themselves to death against the bare light bulb burning above. She fed coins into the machine and pushed the button for iced tea. There was a crashing thump as the can landed in the dispenser, but she left it there because iced tea wasn’t what she’d really come out here for.

She’d come to think about what her mother had said about Hayden deserving a father and Mitch deserving to know he had a son. Why did mothers always have to be right?

Mitchell McCray. For years she’d tried not to think about him, but as her son grew, that became increasingly impossible. Hayden looked way too much like his father. She tried to forget how she’d behaved that night, because a part of her just couldn’t believe Mitch had so easily, so effortlessly swept her off her feet.

Dear Reader,

Stories are sometimes like stray cats. You don’t go looking for them; they find you. This past December I went online to shop for a new dog sled. Sled Dog Central links to all related sites, and their main page announced the shocking news that Susan Butcher, four-time winner of the 1100-mile Iditarod Sled Dog Race, had recently been diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia.

Susan’s influence on the lives of others has been profound. At twenty-nine, I watched her being interviewed during the Iditarod by an ABC news correspondent and was awed. She was inspirational, forging her way boldly through the middle of the magnificent Alaskan wilderness, driving her beloved team of sled dogs and handily beating the male-dominated field. Women all over the world rode the runners with her and thrilled to her victory, not just once but four times. Her courage and determination changed our world. How could such a strong-spirited woman with two beautiful daughters and a devoted husband be diagnosed with such a life-threatening disease?

While researching her illness I learned about the critical need for bone marrow donors and joined the donor registry. Then I wrote this story, hopefully to open the eyes of others who might want to help save a life. The characters in this story are fictional, but there’s nothing fictional about leukemia. Progress is being made in the treatments, and the long-term survival rate is climbing, especially for children, but we still have a long way to go. To find out more about how to become a donor, go to www.marrow.org.

Whoever said “If you have your health, you have everything?” was right. Count your blessings and cherish each day. Love your little ones and sing them to sleep. Life is short.

Nadia Nichols

www.nadianichols.com

From Out of the Blue
Nadia Nichols

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nadia went to the dogs at the age of twenty-nine and currently operates a kennel of thirty Alaskan huskies. She has raced for fifteen years in northern New England and Canada, works at the family-owned Harraseeket Inn in Freeport, Maine, and is also a registered Maine guide.

She began her writing career at the age of five, when she made her first sale, a short story called “The Bear,” to her mother for 25 cents. This story was such a blockbuster that her mother bought every other story Nadia wrote and kept her in ice cream money throughout much of her childhood.

Now all her royalties go toward buying dog food. She can be reached at nadianichols@aol.com.

For Susan

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

FUNNY, HOW SMALL the house looked from the curb. It was the exact same size as all the other cookie-cutter houses on the base with the exact same size lawn in front, but now that it was no longer her home, it looked sad and abandoned and small. The lawn was dry and brown and the bushes against the foundation drooped in the Southern California heat. The street was quiet. No curious onlookers were on hand for her departure. Her CO had kept his promise that there would be no farewell fuss or fanfare. Her furniture and belongings were packed away into the moving van and the crew was ready to roll. One of the men was closing the van’s rear door while the other approached with a clipboard.

“If I could just get your signature on the bottom, ma’am, we’ll be on our way.”

She took the pen and clipboard and signed her full name on the line: Katherine Carolyn Jones. She left off the part she was leaving behind—“Captain.” As of three days ago, when ten years of Navy life had come to a premature end, she was officially a civilian. She handed the clipboard back. “Thank you. See you in a few days.”

“Montana’s not that far. We might even beat you there.”

“You will. We’re taking the scenic route,” she said.

He climbed into the cab of the moving van with his partner, started up the truck and pulled away from the curb.

She wasn’t aware that her mother was standing beside her until she spoke. “Honey? You all right?”

“Sure. Just a little hot, that’s all.” Kate slipped her arm around her mother’s waist. Ruth Jones had been like a rock the past few days, throughout the long, arduous process of packing up. Dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt, Ruth radiated that ageless Montana cowgirl vitality and had the lean, fit build to match. Her graying hair was neatly bound into a braid that hung between her shoulders.

“Montana’ll seem chilly to you after all these years away.” She glanced toward the car. “Maybe we should get going. Hayden’s getting antsy. He keeps asking where Rosa’s gone.”

Kate followed her mother’s gaze to where her young son fidgeted in the backseat along with Wiggins, the family cat. Neither of them enjoyed riding in vehicles, and the journey was just beginning. This was the first time Hayden would be separated from the woman who’d cared for him during Kate’s frequent absences from his life. Rosa’s tearful goodbye the day before had been heartrending, but she’d refused to come to Montana. It was too far from her family in Mexico. Too cold and snowy. She would stay in California and find another nanny job. Kate knew that wouldn’t be difficult. The fifty-eight-year-old woman was marvelous with children, and an excellent cook and housekeeper to boot. Kate would miss her calm, cheerful competence very much, along with her chicken relleno, green chili stew and guacamole salads.

Hayden was already missing her. He was fussy and irritable and nothing his mother or grandmother did or said seemed to comfort him. It would take them at least three days to drive to Montana because Kate was determined to make it an enjoyable road trip and not a marathon. Her mother’s company would be a good distraction. It would keep her from thinking about why she was giving up the life she’d loved and the career she’d worked so hard for.

She took one final look at her house and was walking toward the car when the base’s postal truck turned the corner and made the requisite stop at the bank of mailboxes that served all the houses on the street. She groaned as her own mailbox was opened and a handful of what were no doubt huge medical bills were stuffed inside. “Hang on a sec, Mom. I’ll be right back.” She trotted up to the postal truck and leaned in the window. “Hey, Charlie, do me a favor?”

“Sure, Captain. What’s up?” A fixture on the base, Charlie had a broad, friendly face and a ready smile.

“I put in a change of address form a couple of days ago. Can you check to make sure it’s gone through? I shouldn’t be getting any more mail delivered here.”

Charlie frowned. “You being transferred?”

“Something like that. Will you do that for me?”

“You know I will, but I wish I didn’t have to. Good luck, Captain. Won’t be the same around here without you stirring the pot and keeping the flyboys on their toes, but I figured something was up when I passed that moving van.”

As he drove off, Kate reached into her mailbox for the last time, drawing out a sheaf of envelopes. Some junk mail, a phone bill and two medical bills. She stuffed the junk mail back in the box for Charlie to deal with and tucked the bills into the visor pocket when she slipped into the car. The hot seat stung her legs, so when she started the engine, she maxed the air conditioner. Cool air poured forth from the vents as she put the car into gear. “Okay, gang, let’s rock and roll.”

Hayden was complaining loudly that Wiggins had clawed him—he’d let the cat out of the pet carrier against her orders—and her mother was talking about the wildflowers blooming on the flanks of the mountains back home, naming each and every one, but the voices faded into silence as they approached the guardhouse.

“Wow,” Ruth said. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

Kate had slowed the car but forced herself to continue driving toward the gate. Ranks of officers in dress uniform flanked both sides of the road and stood at attention, saluting her as she exited the base for the final time. She recognized them all, of course. She’d flown with some of them, commanded others and lived among many for the past four years. She focused her eyes forward, tightened her hands on the wheel and willed herself to remain visibly impassive while inside she fell completely apart. Her CO had promised her this wouldn’t happen. He’d sworn to keep her resignation and departure, and the reasons for both, in the strictest of confidences. Yet here they were, the men and women she’d served with, saying a final goodbye the only way they knew how, even though she was no longer a naval officer—just a thirty-two-year-old civilian mother returning home to fight the toughest battle of her life.

At the very end of the row of uniformed officers, Kate saw her CO, and next to him, in the flesh, stood the legendary Fleet Admiral Ransom Gates, the highest ranking officer in the United States Navy. Feeling overwhelmed as Admiral Gates approached the car, Kate put the vehicle into Park and struggled to unbuckle her seat belt. He waved a hand, stilling her.

“At ease,” he said, leaning toward her open window. “Your commanding officer informed me of your resignation. But since you’re one of the finest officers in my fleet, I’m not accepting it. As of now you’re on an extended emergency medical leave, with full benefits and pay.”

“But, sir…”

“I’ve done a little research. I know what you’re up against and I’m aware it could be two years before you’re out of the woods, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that you’ll make it all the way back.” He passed her a letter-sized sheet of paper and riveted her with eyes as blue and cold as the oceans he ruled. “You’re a fighter, Captain. Beat this thing. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.” Kate took the paper from him, recognizing her own signature at the bottom. It was her formal resignation. The word Void had been stamped across it in bold red letters.

“Good luck, Captain,” Admiral Gates said, then stepped back from the car and saluted her. As she drove off the base, she narrowly avoided sideswiping the guardhouse. Suddenly her twenty-twenty vision wasn’t all that sharp.

BAD THINGS happened in threes. Three months ago Kate had been diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia. Three days ago, upon being released from the hospital after her second month-long chemo treatment, she’d resigned her commission, or tried to, after getting her health insurance coverage extended through the proper channels, and just yesterday the doctors had told her that as yet no suitable match had been found for a bone marrow transplant. That made three very bad things, which meant that for a while, at least, things should go pretty smoothly.

Sure enough, the first two days of the road trip were good. Hayden settled down, Wiggins resigned himself to riding in the pet carrier and had stopped his bloodcurdling howls, and she and her mother shared long rambling conversations about everything and nothing at all while the Sierra Nevadas fell behind and the Rockies loomed ahead. The one thing they never discussed was the reason Kate was going back home, which suited her just fine. Her mother had a tendency to become emotional when the topic came up, and emotional displays were something Kate had never been comfortable with. Her life in the Navy had protected her from that. The military discipline, male-dominated upper ranks and stern emphasis on protocol had served as her sword and shield.

It hadn’t been lost on Kate that her mother had put a huge box of tissues on the seat between them, no doubt for their mutual use should the waterworks ever start. If Kate had her way, the box would still be full at the end of the trip. Tears were pointless.

On the third day, about an hour after stopping for lunch at a little diner on Interstate 15 in Idaho, her mother looked into the backseat, saw that Hayden was napping, then faced front, folded her hands in her lap and sighed. “Kate, maybe it’s none of my business, but in all these years you’ve never volunteered much information about Hayden’s father.”

The subject was bound to come up sooner or later. Kate was surprised that it hadn’t been sooner. A whole lot sooner. She couldn’t blame her parents for wanting to learn everything they could about their grandchild. “That’s because there’s not much to tell. I’ve made a few mistakes in my life and that man was one of them. I’d rather not talk about him.”

“That’s been obvious ever since you told us you were pregnant, but he is the father of your child—one of the only two parents he’ll ever have.”

“And the only one, once I’m gone. Is that the point you’re trying to make?”

“You’re going to get well, Kate. That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just that I know how stubborn and unyielding you can be when it comes to men. I’m not saying I blame you,” Ruth was quick to add. “You’ve fought hard in your career and more than a few men have tried to trip you up. Nevertheless, at one time you must have felt something for this man.”

Kate felt herself flush. “Mom…”

“Did he treat you badly, or abandon you when you told him you were pregnant?”

“Not exactly.”

“Was he married?”

“I don’t think so.”

Her mother frowned at this. “Does this guy even know he has a child?”

A long silence passed between them and Kate realized her hands were cramping around the steering wheel. She forced herself to relax her grip and drew a slow breath. “I don’t think so,” she repeated.

“You mean, you never told him?”

“No. I never told him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he was never a part of my life. In fact, I know very little about him. Our relationship was nothing more than a one-night stand. That sometimes happens between two sexually deprived individuals. You know.”

“Sorry. I can’t say that I do, and I’m surprised to hear that you behaved that way.”

“I don’t make a habit of it, Mom, but that’s the reason I never told you about Hayden’s father. You expect me to be perfect and I’m not. Boy, am I ever not. But in spite of how Hayden came about, he’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, and if I should die, I want to know he’s with my parents, the other two most perfect things that ever happened to me. End of discussion.”

There was another long silence as they both stared out the windshield, then her mother pulled a tissue out of the box and blew her nose. “I think that’s very selfish of you,” she said.

Kate exhaled an exasperated breath. “How so?”

“Think how much your father would have missed if he’d never known you.”

“That’s different. The two of you were in love. You were married. You wanted to have a child together. You planned me.”

“I can’t imagine you’d have slept with just anyone no matter how ‘sexually deprived’ you were at the time. You’re too smart and independent minded. Besides, if the worst happens, what are we supposed to tell your son when he asks us about his father? This is something we need to know, Kate. It’s important.”

“As soon as he figured out there was suppose to be a daddy in his life, I told him his father died in a plane crash. He never asks anymore, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him the truth?”

“That his mother hopped into the sack with a man she’d just met and hasn’t seen since that night? What point would that serve?” Kate felt her heart rate accelerate as she fought to keep her cool. “Okay, here’s the deal. You want to know who this guy is? I’ll tell you. His name is Mitchell McCray. He was a major in the air force when I met him, stationed at Eielson Air Force Base in Alaska. I have no idea where he is now, but worst-case scenario, you could contact the base and find out. Just promise me you’ll never, ever hand my son over to a man you don’t even know.”

Her mother sat for a few moments, digesting this. “When were you in Alaska?”

“Well, Mom, we Navy types jump ship once in a while, especially when we’re feeling the need for…company.”

“And he never tried to contact you afterward?”

“He sent me one letter.”

“What did it say?”

“I don’t know. I never opened it.”

“Weren’t you the least bit curious?”

“No.” Kate felt her stomach muscles tighten as she recalled getting that letter at mail call one month into a blue water ops and just two days before the ship’s doctor had informed her she was pregnant. She’d seen the name and return address scrawled in the upper left-hand corner and felt a jolt of shock when she realized who it was from. The letter had been forwarded twice, the initial posting having been made three weeks earlier. She had stared at it for a few breathless moments, her cheeks burning as she remembered her shameless behavior with a virtual stranger, then flung it off the flight deck unopened. “It’s not like we had a long-term relationship, Mom. It was just one night.”

“Still, I think you should look him up.”

“Just call him on the phone, ask him if he remembers me, then tell him he has a son?”

“He deserves to know. You also need to find out his medical history and that of his family. That will be important information for Hayden to have.”

“What if he turns out to be a jerk?”

“I’m your mother, Kate. I know you. If this guy won your heart for even one night, he must have been something else. I suspect that’s also why you ran away from him so fast and never told him about Hayden and never opened that letter. A relationship would’ve complicated your life and distracted you from your goals.”

Kate opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again. She hated it when her mother talked to her in that tone of voice, but arguing with her would only prolong the lecture. She hesitated, then tried another approach. “It’s been over four years. He could be dead, for all I know.”

“I doubt that. Kate, your father is sixty-four and I’m sixty-two,” her mother continued. “By the time Hayden graduates from high school, we’ll be soaking our dentures in whitening solution and using canes and walkers to get around. We may not live to see him graduate from college. Then he won’t have any family to cheer him on or to fall back on in tough times. He’ll be all alone. Of course, we’ll take care of him if, God forbid, anything ever happens to you, and we’ll love him and cherish him and protect him for as long as we can, but that might not be for all that long.”

Kate fought to control her emotions, but realized she’d failed when the road ahead blurred and her mother handed her a wad of tissues.

“You told me this man wasn’t a part of your life, but Kate, if he hadn’t cared about you, he wouldn’t have written that letter. You still have the opportunity to give Hayden the father he deserves. Just think about it.”

THEY SPENT the final night in a little roadside motel and ate an early supper of burgers and fries at the adjacent diner. After her mother and Hayden had fallen asleep, Kate left the room and walked beneath the overhang to where the soda machine hummed and moths dashed themselves to death against the bare lightbulb burning above. She fed coins into the machine and pushed the button for iced tea. There was a crashing thump as the can landed in the dispenser, but she left it there because iced tea wasn’t what she’d really come out here for.

She’d come to think about what her mother had said about Hayden deserving a father and Mitch deserving to know he had a son. Why did mothers always have to be right?

Mitchell McCray. For years she’d tried not to think about him, but as her son grew, that became increasingly impossible. Hayden looked way too much like his father. She tried to forget how she’d behaved that night because a part of her just couldn’t believe Mitch had so easily, so effortlessly, swept her off her feet.

She’d been at Midway for a week of gunnery training and was planning to refuel at Adak en route to Mirimar when the winds became so severe they actually toppled a construction crane on the base. After she’d made two unsuccessful attempts at landing with wind gusts topping one hundred knots, Adak tower told her the only chance of putting her Hornet down was at Eielson. All of Alaska was snowed in by the storm and the weather was so bad no tanker was available for her to refuel, but they told her the winds weren’t quite as severe in the interior.

Good luck, they’d said.

She knew she’d need it. Eielson Air Force Base was 1,358 miles from Adak. She programmed the identifier for Eielson into her inertial navigation system and turned on the autopilot, realizing that if she made it there, it would be a miracle. A far more likely scenario was that she’d run out of fuel, eject from the plane and freeze to death before hitting the ground in her chute. Meanwhile, until that happened, she’d keep pulling the power back and climbing for altitude until it was time to start her descent to Eielson. The only thing in her favor was the wind. She was riding a jet stream of 160 miles per hour and, as it turned out, it was enough of a boost to get her to her destination just before engine flameout.

The landing was bumpy, and for a few moments after she brought the plane to a stop, she could do nothing more than slump in her seat while her heart rate slowed and the adrenaline oozed out of her. A man emerged from the nearest hangar and wrestled a yellow ladder through six inches of snow, pushing for all he was worth while twisting his upper body away from the bite of the wicked gusts. As he approached, she stirred herself back to life, popped the canopy and was un-buckling her harness when he climbed up the ladder to help her out of the cockpit. In the rapidly waning daylight she could see his dark hair whipping across his forehead.

“Welcome to the North Pole!” he called over the shriek of the wind. “You must be one of those fancy naval aviators we’ve heard rumors about. What happened? You lose your boat in the storm?”

He knew, of course, the reason behind her emergency landing at Eielson. He was just being a wiseass. When she pulled off her helmet and he realized he was talking to a woman, he backed away to read the name painted on the side of her canopy. “Well, Lieutenant K. C. Jones, that was one hot shit landing you just made in hurricane-force winds with zero visibility and nothing but auxiliary power. I’m Major McCray, but you can call me Mitch. Climb on down and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I don’t have time for socializing, Major,” she said. “I’d like to get my plane checked out before leaving. That was a rough landing and I had multiple caution lights. How soon can you have it ready to go?” she asked once her feet touched solid ground.

“This runway’s closed. Hell, this air base is closed, as is every other airport in the state. Everyone’s holed up for the duration.”

“The duration of what? Are you telling me a little snow and wind shuts down an entire air force base? I have a schedule to keep.”

“Not anymore. Don’t you swabbies listen to the weather report? This Pacific howler’s expected to drop upwards of three feet. Your flight log just ended here, a few miles shy of the arctic circle.” When she didn’t react, he added, “Don’t worry—we’ll get your plane checked out in time for you to catch up on your California sunbathing. I’m pretty skilled with a sledgehammer and chain saw, and the good news is you’ll have time for a drink or two at the Mad Dog while you wait. I’ll even drive you over there myself and introduce you around to the polar bears. They’re kinda cute when they aren’t hungry.”

She followed him into the hangar, where several hissing and sputtering Coleman lanterns provided the only light. “Power’s out and the emergency generator won’t come on line, probably because this is a real emergency,” he explained, slamming the door on the storm. “The lights you saw on the runway were from the plow trucks. We like to provide a little guidance for you lost pilots. Skidder! We got us a pretty little Hornet parked outside that needs to be dragged in here before the drifts get much higher. Both engines flamed out in the final approach and she had a rough landing.”

A hulking giant of a man ambled across the hangar and stared at Kate with that slack-jawed look she’d grown accustomed to over the years. “This the pilot, Major?”

“Skidder, meet Lieutenant K. C. Jones.” Major Mitchell McCray gave her a brash, arrogant grin. “She wants the plane checked over and ready to go ASAP. For some reason, she prefers California sunshine to our Alaskan blizzards, but she hasn’t been to the Mad Dog yet.”

THAT HAD BEEN almost five years ago, but it felt like yesterday. She could still smell the jet fuel and the fresh paint scents of the hangar, feel the sting of the wind-driven snow when he escorted her out to the plow truck to ferry her the blustery mile to the Mad Dog for the promised drink. Only, as it turned out, the Mad Dog Saloon was closed due to the power outage. That didn’t faze Mitch. The saloon owner tossed him the keys on his way out the door along with a brusque, “Lock ’er up when you leave.”

Major McCray fixed her a drink by the soft glow of a kerosene lamp and they huddled near the woodstove in the center of the room for warmth, first sharing flying stories, the way all pilots do, then war stories the way combat pilots do. Then they had another drink and the combined effects of the alcohol, the heat from the stove and the lack of any solid food for the past twelve hours conspired against her. Kate was way beyond being seduced by an arrogant jet jock with a type A personality. She’d long since decided that men had been put on earth solely to hone an intelligent and motivated woman’s desire to prove her equality, and in many cases, her superiority. She’d spent years fighting for every toehold on that precarious Navy ladder, years proving that she was a whole lot better than most of the men who looked down on her, yet she’d nearly thrown it all away in one stormy night with an air force officer in a rustic saloon called the Mad Dog.

For the past four years, she’d tried to forget how easily Mitch had seduced her, but now, standing in the harsh light of the motel, she admitted to herself that, once again, her mother was right. He’d been something else. Five minutes in his company and she’d felt like she never wanted to leave his side. Even before she’d taken the first sip of that drink he’d mixed, she’d been captivated by those dark bedroom eyes, that handsome grin and the masculine strength of him. Years of rigid discipline and unwavering focus had melted away in the heat of that passionate night. While the blizzard piled the snows up outside the Mad Dog and blew drifts beneath the door, the lone kerosene lamp gradually burned itself out, engulfing them in a darkness neither noticed.

She’d spent years trying to forget how he’d made her feel, but the memories could still make her blush. Mitchell McCray had effortlessly threatened a lifetime of dreams and visions and left her scrambling to find solid footing again in a profession that she’d fought so hard to be a part of. She’d landed on her feet after that fall from grace, but only barely. That one night had resulted in a pregnancy that nearly destroyed her career, but the only person she could blame for her actions was herself.

Kate retrieved the cold can of iced tea from the dispenser and started back to the room, stopping abruptly as the world shifted beneath her feet and tipped her off balance. She reached out for a porch post, closed her eyes and leaned against it until the dizziness passed. The fatigue gnawed at her constantly, but the dizzy spells and intermittent stomach pains were something new. She hadn’t been able to swallow more than two small bites of her hamburger, in spite of her mother’s frequent glances across the Formica table in the little diner, while Hayden smeared his fries in ketchup and in a feeding frenzy shoved them into his hungry mouth. “Try to eat,” her mother had said. “You need to keep your strength up.”

This had been so hard on her mother, and it was only going to get worse. What had she been thinking of, agreeing to spend the next two months in Montana? The base doctor had urged her to stay near the Seattle hospital that had been treating her, but her parents had argued that being home would keep her happier and hopefully healthier until that miraculous bone marrow donor came along. But what about Hayden?

What about Hayden!

She straightened, drew a shaky breath and wondered what the letter had said, the one she’d so willfully destroyed. What a fool she’d been. What an arrogant, stubborn, prideful fool. Was Mitchell McCray married now? Did he have a family of his own? Did Hayden have brothers and sisters he’d never met? These were things she needed to find out, and quickly. The bone marrow registry might come through with a good match for her, but thus far the prospects remained bleak. Not many people volunteered to be tested for such a donation unless a friend or family member was stricken.