The pilot shot Kendra a look, then sprinted back to his plane.
Daniel’s voice came from the radio inside. “Far Hills, this is Cessna One Four Six One.”
Rufus reached the radio in three strides. “Go ahead, Daniel.”
“Instruments indicate landing gear has not deployed. Do you require a fly-over for visual confirmation, Far Hills?”
“No fly-over needed. Visual confirmation, Daniel–gear has not–repeat not deployed.”
“Understood, Far Hills.”
“Daniel, there’s a fairly flat pasture north of town–landing on grass could be softer–”
“Negative. The plane waiting to take this passenger to a hospital is here. Besides, the fuel won’t stretch. I’m coming in.”
“It’s all yours, Daniel.”
Oh God, what if not even Daniel could pull this off?
An answer came that she hadn’t known was inside her until Daniel had found it–then she would be forever grateful that she had spent this morning with him. Hours she would have forfeited if not for his stubbornness.
As if by silent order, the crowd edged closer to the open gate that led to the runway. She became aware of Marti holding her hand and Rufus at her other side, his big hand cupping her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Daniel’ll bring ’em to earth safe and sound.”
My angel can fly and then come back to earth safe and sound.
“About to land, Far Hills,” came Daniel’s voice over the radio, as calm as ever. “See you in a minute.”
Please, Daddy, watch over Daniel.
And then, just before the radio transmission cut off came the bleat of a siren from inside the plane.
“Oh, my God–!”
“No. That’s okay. It’s the stall horn. He cut the engine on purpose, so when it hits it’s not as likely to explode.”
Explode.
Silence again. All breath held. All the world suspended. The propeller still circling, but slowed slightly, changing the texture of the blur made by its passing blades. The plane carrying Daniel and two people she’d never met seemed to float, as if it rode on a cushion of air. As if her prayers and hope alone could hold it up.
And then it dropped those final inches, squealing metal against groaning tarmac.
The back connected first. Screeching, howling, ripping metal.
The left wing dipped, then leveled. The plane skidded slightly sideways, all the while protesting the harsh brake of friction. The propeller broke its teeth trying to bite into the solid surface.
It seemed the sound would go on forever.
And then it stopped.
For a second no one moved, echoes of metal screams crashing in their ears, while their eyes tried to absorb the stillness of the crumpled tube before them.
“Hot damn! Let’s go!” shouted the medic. He sprinted to the medical plane, already taxiing closer, while Rufus and the others closed in on the maimed plane that held Daniel.
Kendra was aware of all the action around her and its purpose, was even aware of what the voices said–Marti announcing she had phone calls to make, some assuring her everything was okay, others extolling Daniel’s bravery and his flying skill.
She remained rooted to the same spot, just outside the gate.
Never taking her eyes off the plane.
Watching as the workers on the ground yanked open the stuck door under the plane’s high wing. Watching as they awkwardly scrambled to unload the injured hiker from the angled fuselage and started the gurney toward the awaiting plane.
The second hiker emerged, a teenaged version of the injured man. Father and son looked as much alike as Daniel and Matthew did. The boy started after the gurney, then reached back into the plane, shaking hands with the man still inside, the man who had rescued him and his father.
The boy jogged across the pavement to catch up with the gurney, coming alongside it a few yards beyond where Kendra stood, and clasping his father’s hand.
Kendra felt an amazing connection herself in that instant–to a woman she’d never met and probably never would. The mother and wife of these two strangers Daniel had rescued.
The woman who could have lost so much if it hadn’t been for Daniel Delligatti.
As if it were her own emotion, Kendra felt the unknown woman’s never-ending flow of gratitude that there had been a man like Daniel to rescue the man and boy she loved.
I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d told him not to go.
And maybe she couldn’t have loved Daniel Delligatti as much as she did if he hadn’t been the kind of man who wanted to go.
A man like Daniel . . .
A man who was so much more than the sum of the parts he’d played. A man who wasn’t yet convinced of that himself. But she was.
She had been from those first hours sheltering from Aretha.
She had loved him in those hours–him, the person beyond the names or the history. Not with the depth and complexity she now felt, but with a clarity and simplicity she no longer denied.
Daniel appeared, framed in the elevated doorway.
He jumped lightly down. A familiar slash of white split his face as he grinned at Rufus, and shook the older man’s hand.
She had a sudden, clear memory of Daniel’s hand on the piano the day he’d come back to Far Hills. Fingers positioned to play a chord, instead hitting the keys one by one.
That’s what she’d been doing to him–looking at each part of him individually, when they really formed a chord. If any note were missing, it would not be the same sweet sound–and he would not be the same man.
The others crowded around Daniel, and she could see him dampening their hyperbole. He and Rufus walked side by side around the plane, with their admiring entourage following. Daniel looked as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had changed.
Until he spotted her.
Daniel never took his eyes off her as he started toward her. She never took her eyes off him as he stopped half a foot away, not touching her.
“I heard you said that if anyone could land that plane safely, I could.”
“I did.”
He waited, but she said no more. She couldn’t. There were too many emotions to try to fit into words that couldn’t hold them.
“But that’s not
