Chapter 1
One
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.”
Shelly Griffin’s fingers compressed around the armrest until her neatly manicured nails threatened to cut into the fabric.
Flying had never thrilled her, and she avoided it whenever possible. It had taken her the better part of a month to convince
herself that this trip would be perfectly safe. She told herself that of course the Boeing 727 that had taken off without
incident from San Francisco almost ninety minutes ago would land unscathed just a little while from now in Seattle. Still,
if it wasn’t Christmas, if she wasn’t so homesick, and if she’d had more than four days off, she would have done anything
except fly to get home for the holidays.
“Seattle is reporting heavy snow and limited visibility,” the captain continued. “We’ve been rerouted to Portland International
until the Seattle runways can be cleared.”
A low groan filled the plane.
She forced herself to relax. Snow. She could handle snow, right? She wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of having to land twice, but she was so close to home now that she would willingly suffer anything to see a welcoming smile light up her father’s eyes.
In an effort to divert her thoughts from impending tragedy, she studied the passengers around her. A grandmotherly type slept
sedately in the seat beside her. The man sitting across the aisle was such a classic businessman that he was intriguing. Almost
from the moment they’d left San Francisco, he’d been working out of his briefcase. He hadn’t so much as cracked a smile during
the entire flight. The captain’s announcement had produced little more than a disgruntled flicker in his staid expression.
She had seen enough men like him in her job as a reporter in the federal court to catalog him quickly. Polished. Professional.
Impeccable. Handsome, too, she supposed, if she was interested—which she wasn’t. She preferred her men a little less intense.
She managed to suppress a tight laugh. Men? What men? In the ten months she’d been living in the City by the Bay, she hadn’t
exactly developed a following. A few interesting prospects now and again, but nothing serious.
As the plane made its descent, Shelly gripped the armrest with renewed tension. Her gaze skimmed the emergency exits as she
repeated affirmations on the safety of flying. She mumbled them under her breath as the plane angled sharply to the right,
aligning its giant bulk with the narrow runway ahead.
Keeping her eyes centered on the seat in front of her, she held her breath until she felt the wheels gently bounce against
the runway in a flawless landing. She braced herself as the brakes quickly slowed the aircraft to a crawl.
The oxygen rushed from her lungs in a heartfelt sigh of relief.
Somehow the landings were so much worse than the takeoffs.
As the tension eased from her rigid body, she looked around to discover the businessman slanting his idle gaze over her.
His dark eyes contained a look of surprise.
He seemed amazed that anyone could be afraid of flying.
The blood mounted briefly in her pale features, and she decided she definitely didn’t like his cold attitude, no matter how handsome he was.
The elderly woman sitting next to her placed a hand on Shelly’s forearm. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Of course.” Relief throbbed in her voice. Now that they were on the ground, she could feign the composure that seemed to
come so easily to the other passengers.
“I hope we aren’t delayed long. My daughter’s taking off work to meet me.”
“My dad’s forty minutes from the airport,” Shelly offered, hoping that he’d called the airline to check if her flight was
on time. She hated the thought of him anxiously waiting for her.
The other woman craned her neck to peek out the small side window. “It doesn’t seem to be snowing much here. Just a few flakes.
They look a bit like floating goose feathers, don’t you think?”
Shelly grinned at the image. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
She remained seated while several of the other passengers got up and took advantage of the captain’s offer to leave the plane
during the delay. The businessman was among those who quickly vacated their seats. But since the captain had said he didn’t
expect them to be in Portland long, Shelly didn’t want to take a chance of missing the flight when it was ready to take off
again.
After checking her watch every ten minutes for forty minutes, she was starting to think that they would never leave Oregon.
The blizzard had hit the area, and whirling snow buffeted the quiet plane with growing intensity.
Her anxieties mounted with equal force. Suddenly her dire musings were interrupted.
“This is the captain speaking.” His faint Southern drawl filled the plane. “Unfortunately, Seattle reports that visibility
hasn’t improved. They’re asking that we remain here in Portland for another half hour, possibly longer.”
Frustration and disappointment erupted from the remaining passengers, and they all began speaking at once.
“This is the captain again,” the pilot added, his tone one of wry humor. “I’d like to remind those of you who are upset by
our situation that it’s far better to be on the ground wishing you were in the sky than to be in the sky praying you were on the ground.”
Shelly added a silent amen to that. As it was, she was beginning to feel claustrophobic, trapped inside the plane. She grabbed
her purse and reached for her cell, then discovered when she tried to turn it on that she must have forgotten to charge it,
because the battery was dead. Unsnapping her seat belt, she stood and headed down the narrow aisle toward the front of the
plane.
“Do I have time to make a phone call? My cell is dead,” she explained.
“Sure,” the flight attendant answered with a cordial smile. “Don’t be long, though. The conditions in Seattle could change
quickly.”
“I won’t,” Shelly promised, and made her way into the terminal. Thank heavens airports still had payphones, she thought as
she found two lonely phones sandwiched between a newsstand and a bagel shop.
She claimed the only unoccupied one, then frowned when she saw the “Out of Order” sign taped over the credit card slot.
It wasn’t until she was sorting through her purse for change that she noted that the unsympathetic businessman from her flight was sitting at the other phone.
Apparently even someone as focused as he seemed to be could forget to charge his phone, too.
“This is Slade Garner again,” he announced with the faintest trace of impatience creeping into his voice. “My plane’s still
in Portland.”
Shelly scowled at her wallet. She didn’t have change for the phone.
“Yes, yes, I understand the snow’s a problem on your end as well,” he continued smoothly. “I doubt that I’ll make it in this
afternoon. Perhaps we should arrange the meeting for first thing tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock?” Another pause. “Of course
I realize it’s the day before Christmas.”
Rummaging in her purse, Shelly managed to dredge up a token for the cable car, a breath mint and a lost button.
Pressing her lips tightly together, she mused about how coldhearted Slade Garner was to insist on a meeting so close to Christmas.
Instantly she felt guilty because her thoughts were so judgmental. Of course he would want to keep his appointment. He obviously
hadn’t taken this flight for fun. Her second regret was that she realized she had intentionally eavesdropped on his conversation,
looking for excuses to justify her dislike of him. Such behavior was hardly in keeping with the Christmas spirit.
Pasting on a pleasant smile, she stepped forward when he replaced the receiver, thinking to claim the working phone, but someone
practically knocked her over and got there first.
“Excuse me,” she said politely as Slade turned in her direction. He refused to meet her gaze, and for a second she didn’t
think he’d heard her.
“Yes?” He finally looked her way, his expression bored, frustrated.
“Have you got change, by any chance?”
He uninterestedly checked the contents of his pocket, then looked down at the few coins in his palm. “Sorry.” Dispassionately
he tucked them back in his pocket and turned away.
She was ready to approach someone else when he turned back to her. His dark brows drew together in a frown, something about
her apparently registering in his mind despite his preoccupied thoughts. “You were on the Seattle flight, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Here.” He handed her what change he had.
The corners of her mouth curved up in surprise. “Thanks.” He was already walking briskly away, and she was convinced he hadn’t
even heard her. She didn’t know what difference it made that they’d shared the same plane, but without analyzing his generosity
any further, she dropped the first coin in the slot, then shifted her weight from one foot to the other while the phone rang,
hoping her father—one of the last holdouts against owning a cell—wasn’t already at the airport waiting for her. She was pleased
when he answered.
“Dad, I’m so glad I caught you.”
“Merry Christmas, Shortcake.”
Her father had bestowed this affectionate title on her when she was thirteen and her friends had sprouted up around her. To
her dismay she had remained at a deplorable five feet until she was seventeen. Then, within six months, she had grown five
inches. Her height and other attributes of puberty had been hormonal afterthoughts.
“I’m in Portland.”
“I know. When I phoned the airline they told me you’d been forced to land there. How are you doing?”
“Fine.” She wasn’t about to reveal her fear of flying or how much she was dreading getting back on that plane. “I’m sorry about the delay.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“But I hate wasting precious time sitting here when I could be with you.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll have plenty of time together.”