“Negative,” Rufus said. “Daniel, I know that patch. You might be able to land, but you can’t take off. It’s not big enough.”
“I’ll make it big enough. Listen, Rufus, one thing–let Kendra know I’ll be late.”
“Daniel, you’ve got to wait–”
“Negative. No time. I’m going in.”
*
“Kendra, something’s breaking.” Larry Orrin, editor of the Banner, looked even more harried than usual.
She automatically stored the story she’d been working on and grabbed her notebook. “The fires? Are you sending a photographer?”
Larry took her arm. “I’m not sending you–not to report.”
“Why? I’ve got plenty of time to finish the food drive story.”
“I know. It’s–Rufus Trent called and asked me to tell you. It’s Daniel Delligatti’s plane. He landed to pick up some hikers trapped up top by the fire and they’ve lost radio contact.”
Kendra knew she held her breath, but for an instant it felt as if she’d held her heartbeat, too. Then she turned quickly and grabbed her purse. “I’m going.”
*
Rufus was talking into the radio, informing the pilot of the medical plane from Billings about ground conditions when Kendra and Larry joined the crowd packed into the office.
“Have they heard from Delligatti?” Larry asked.
A gray-haired man Kendra thought she recognized as a part-time mechanic for Rufus slowly shook his head. “Not a word.”
“Quiet,” barked Rufus, fiddling with the radio.
Then came the sound his ears had already picked up. A crackling on the airwaves that seemed to be broken into short segments.
“Is that him?”
“That’s him–it’s got to be.”
“Quiet!” Rufus roared. “Far Hills, requesting repeat on transmission. Repeat.”
“Far Hills, this is Cessna One Four Six One. Do you read?”
Kendra dragged in air, along with the sound of Daniel’s voice.
“Yes, Daniel, we read you. And we’re damned glad to hear you.”
“Feeling’s mutual, Far Hills. Fire line must have interfered with the radio signal.”
“What’s your status?”
Kendra stared at Rufus’ lined face as she concentrated on Daniel’s voice–trying to read unspoken messages beyond their words.
“I have both hikers. One’s injured. Compound fracture of the left leg. I can’t tell about internal. I had to take off west and circle south because of the fire, so fuel’s tight. Do you have medical transport at Far Hills?”
“Plane from Billing’s in its landing pattern here right now.”
“Good.” Daniel’s calm voice gave his location, some twenty minutes southwest of the airport.
“Roger. How’d the landing go up there, Daniel?”
“Not bad. The takeoff had rough spots, though.”
Rufus frowned. “Is that going to affect your landing here?”
“It wouldn’t hurt to have a fire truck. Gear might be messed up.”
“Roger.”
Rufus released the button that had allowed his words to go up to the airplane, and glanced at Kendra.
“Why is Daniel worried, Rufus?”
“Sounds like trouble with the retractable landing gear. Where he had to land up there, it’s awful rough.”
“We couldn’t get a fire truck here in time–even if there were any to spare. Everything but the bare essentials is fighting forest fires.” Larry looked at Rufus. “You know that.”
“So does Daniel. He’s giving us a head’s up.”
Rufus barked orders to bystanders about finding fire extinguishers and where to position themselves. Kendra watched half a dozen men take off running toward the hangar and a nearby shed.
The landing gear had to drop down. It had to. Her prayers should reach up and wrap around the tires and yank them down. “Can’t Daniel do something, Rufus?”
“There’s a backup, but if the hydraulics are gone . . .”
“What then?”
“He lands on the belly of the plane. And tries like hell to keep the wings level.”
“Why?” She had to know.
“That’ll keep the plane balanced–less likely to spin or pinwheel. And,” Rufus studied her from under his brows, adding gruffly, “because if the tip of one wing or the other drags against the runway it’ll spark, and even with him low on fuel it could start a fire–the kind of fire we’d have a damned hard time putting out.”
“Can’t you foam the runway?” Larry asked.
“Sure, if this were O’Hare or Kennedy. Not Far Hills. We can do a little. But it’s mostly up to Daniel.”
Kendra nodded her thanks for telling her the harsh truth, then dredged up a smile. “If anyone can do it, Daniel can.”
A grin lit his sun-lined face. “Damn right. He’s a hell of a pilot.”
Rufus stepped outside to watch the medical plane from Billings land, and Kendra followed as if he were her lifeline to Daniel. The plane eased in, then rolled somewhat cumbersomely off the runway. The pilot and a medic hopped out and jogged over to Rufus, shaking hands.
“I heard your transmissions. I spotted him up top. He should be in sight any minute.”
“Kendra!” Marti hurried from the parking area toward the knot of people.
“Marti, how did you–”
“Fran heard, she called me. What’s happening?”
Larry and Rufus filled her in with a few brief phrases.
“But he was going to take you up today,” Marti protested.
“He did. We’d landed when this call came in.”
“And he went anyway? Just left you here?”
“She told him to,” Rufus said. “Not that the boy didn’t want to go.”
Marti turned to Kendra, perhaps waiting for her to refute that.
“Daniel said he wouldn’t go if I asked him not to. I . . . I couldn’t make the words come out, Marti. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d told him not to go.”
“Oh, honey.” For a moment Kendra thought her aunt was going to take her into her arms. Then, as if the older woman saw how fragile her control was, she instead wrapped both hands around her upper arm. “This is going to work out. This is all going to work out.”
“There he is!” shouted someone.
All among the growing crowd, hands went up to shield eyes as they peered at a dot coming from the southwest. To Kendra’s eyes, the dot had barely resolved into an airplane when the medical plane pilot and Rufus Trent dropped their hands and exchanged a look.
The medical pilot said, “I’m going to get my machine started, and out of the way. If there’s a fire–”
“Yeah, go on,” Rufus interrupted in a quelling
