On Wings of Love (3 page)

With help from the overhead light in the parking lot, Ruth rummaged through her purse. She pulled out yesterday’s gas receipt, a pen and then a card from her wallet and dialed her emergency car service. The not-so-distant wail of an emergency vehicle competed with a landing plane as she explained her situation.

“An hour? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She rolled her eyes. Their promptness left a lot to be desired as the bored voice on the other end droned away with some excuse. “Yes, I understand. I know it’s late.”

Ruth disconnected.

She glanced at her watch. Ten o’clock. Being stranded in an almost deserted parking lot at night made her more than a bit uneasy. A million butterflies took flight in her stomach. Especially when she heard the echo of footsteps approaching. She might just have to attempt to change the tire herself in a minute.

Ruth positioned her car keys in her hand to use them as a weapon if needed. Right. As if a small piece of metal could do much damage. The thought of taking one of the self-defense classes at the YMCA she belonged to struck her as a good idea. Jumping back inside her car, she locked the doors and waited for whoever caused those footsteps to go away.

Suddenly, two familiar figures emerged from the darkness. Ruth’s grip on her keys relaxed as Noah’s agitated gait and Houston’s boundless energy brought them to the vehicle next to hers. She watched Noah pause, take a few steps around the back of her car and then disappear. Houston barked. A few seconds later, she saw the pilot
stand up and approach the driver side door, his dog at his heels.

With a forced smile, Ruth flipped on the ignition key and rolled down her window. Too bad she hadn’t pulled into the spot next to Brad’s car, wherever that was. No. Her knight in tarnished armor had to be the man least happy to see her. “Flat tire.”

“I see.” His lips formed a straight line.

“Don’t worry. The situation’s under control.” Ruth’s words held more conviction than she actually felt. She’d never changed a tire in her life, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of doing it. She’d just never had the opportunity. She could probably have it fixed by the time the other help arrived.

“Please pop the trunk, and I’ll change it for you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ve got it covered.”

Noah scraped a hand through his hair and stared at her.

“Look, Ruth. It’s late. Your car is disabled. I want to go home, but my conscience won’t allow me to leave you here stranded in the middle of the airport parking lot, which if you haven’t noticed is not exactly teeming with life right now.”

Ruth thought about her options. Wait in the dark for the tow truck to arrive, do it herself or let the handsome pilot wrapped in a blanket of sorrow put her spare on.

The pint of ice cream in her freezer called to her. Banana ice cream, fudge and walnuts just waiting to pass her lips and caress her taste buds. Fine. Ruth would watch Noah change it so she’d know how to do it next time.

“Oh, all right.” She popped the trunk and stepped out of the car. Noah had to be able to find the spare tire first. Her body protested the sudden movement as she strode to the rear and an incredulous looking Noah.

“What is all this?” Noah struggled with a large, blue duffel bag.

Out of habit, Ruth reached in and grabbed a business card from the side pocket and handed it to him before she hoisted the second bag out of the trunk. “CPR mannequins. I teach CPR classes on the side. I taught a class on Wednesday and forgot to take them out.”

Noah fumbled with the bag and dropped it, just missing his toes and his dog. He couldn’t have been more surprised than if the woman had said body parts. Death. Life. What a contradiction. An oxymoron. He stared at the blonde, trying to figure out how such two different people could reside in the same body. Only confusion racked his brain. Shaking his head cleared his mind of his thoughts, but the image of her wide, green eyes remained. So did her signature scent. So why did he tuck her card in his pocket instead of handing it back?

“The heat can’t be good for them.” Stepping away, Noah opened his tailgate to put the bags on in order to keep the bottoms clean. When he set his down, the contents hit the metal with a thud. No response. Ruth lugged the second one and set it down next to the first.

With the trunk now empty, he rolled back the carpet, exposing what he hoped was a useful spare and the tire iron. He handed her the L-shaped tool, then he tested the spare tire, glad to see it still held air.

“I have a blanket in the backseat of my truck. Could you get it out please?” Noah unscrewed the metal tab.

“Sure.”

He felt her gaze on his back as he wedged a rock behind her other rear tire to keep the car from moving while he jacked it up. A bead of sweat trailed down his cheek as he loosened the lug nuts in the dim light cast by the moon and
overhead light fixture. After he unscrewed them, he placed them in the exact position from where he’d taken them from her tire. Probably a little fastidious on his part, but he firmly believed each nut belonged to each individual screw.

Just as man and woman were created for each other.

But his other half had died and nobody could take her place.

As Ruth called the car service to cancel her request, Noah worked off his anger on the tire and let it dissipate in the stifling silence around them. He threw the useless piece of rubber into the well vacated by the spare, the loud thunk breaking the silence.

The sooner he changed her tire, the sooner he could slip back into the life of limbo he’d been living for the past three years and forget the memories the woman dredged up.

Now that they were alone, Ruth decided to speak up. She coordinated entire teams during the donation process, so she could handle Noah. Before she changed her mind, she tapped him on the shoulder as he put the spare tire on.

His unguarded expression of sadness and hurt when he turned to acknowledge her made her heart flip. She clenched her damp hand around the stress ball inside her pocket again to keep from reaching out to comfort him.

“Yes?” His gaze roved over her features before a tiny smile split his solemn expression.

Her mouth opened but no words tumbled out. She clamped it shut. Heat crept to her cheeks again, and from experience, she knew they were as red as the blouse she wore underneath her lab coat. Her blushing had always proved to be a challenge—and the brunt of a lot of jokes
from her colleagues. As if being a blonde and slightly overweight wasn’t enough. What she wouldn’t give for a whole garden full of weeds right now to take out her frustration.

“You wanted to say something?” Noah replaced the lug nuts and lowered the car back to the ground before he tightened them.

Ruth composed herself and straightened her shoulders. “I’m curious. Why do you think my team and I are vultures?”

“I was hoping you hadn’t heard that.” Noah stood and put her jack away before he dusted his hands.

“Well, I did. Care to clarify that comment?”

His unforgiving laughter skittered across her skin, raising goose bumps as he stood and threw the rock that he’d used to keep the car from rolling toward the chain link fence. “Not really. Let’s just say I don’t care for what you or your team of medical professionals do for a living.”

Ruth’s attention froze on Noah again, who now stood a few feet from her. The bleak expression carved into his face tugged at the thin string that seemed to connect them together at a subconscious level.

She shuddered as cold seeped into her pores. The overhead parking lot light cast his face into a series of shadows. She stepped back and bumped into the hard metal of the passenger side door. Noah’s words confirmed what she’d already suspected when she’d overheard their conversation. David had hated her job, too. At the time they were dating, Ruth had worked as an E.R. nurse and had just started to volunteer with the children. The irony that David worked in medical sales yet couldn’t handle not being the center of Ruth’s world was not lost on her.

After David’s defection and the death of another child she’d grown close to in the Children’s Center, she used the
opportunity to become a coordinator and lessen the incompleteness she felt.

“My job brings hope and life to people who desperately need it.” As an agent of life, she stood on the Lord’s side to help others in need. Especially to those who’d drawn the short end of the stick when it came to functioning organs. Like her sister Rachel. Passion filled her voice. “Why can’t you see that?

“You and
your
God represent death.” His whisper sliced open her emotions and exposed them like raw, open wounds.

Ruth didn’t have to guess at his spirituality anymore. What had happened in his life to cause such a rift between Noah and God? She swallowed and fingered the child’s butterfly charm bracelet around her wrist. The smooth metal soothed her. The gift that child, Bonnie, had given her before she died before a suitable organ could be found was all the reminder she needed.

No semi-stranger, no matter what his affect on her, was going to tell her any differently. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Thanks for changing my tire. I’ll see you around.”

“R
uth, wait.” Noah stopped her. The warmth of her skin under his palm shook his equilibrium. How long had it been since he’d touched a woman outside of a simple handshake?

Before the all-merciful God Noah used to worship took Michelle and Jeremy away from him; that’s when. Noah hadn’t understood why then, and he still didn’t understand why now. And when Noah had needed Him the most, God seemed to have taken a vacation and left him alone to deal with the emptiness and the loneliness.

Ruth placed her hand on top of his in comfort. That one touch, as if she understood him and the conflict warring inside him, undid the bands constraining his emotions. His heartbeat kicked into high gear the same time he noticed she wore no rings. Not that that meant anything. She could have a boyfriend.

“How old is this spare?” Noah continued moments later, thrusting his other thoughts back into the dark recesses of his mind. He glanced at his watch. Twenty after ten. Good thing he’d decided to tape his regular late night
shows since seeing them at their regularly scheduled time wasn’t an option anymore.

“Five years. Probably as old as the car. Why?” Ruth drew her eyebrows together.

“It may not get you home, and you look ready to drop. How far away do you live?” Noah wrestled with his conscience and scraped a hand through his hair. If her spare blew, she’d be stranded along the road. Not an option. Even in the dim light filtering down from the streetlamp, he could see the fatigue shadowing the delicate skin under her eyes.

“About ten miles from here. How do you know I may not get home? I see people drive around with these all the time.”

“Experience. I’ll follow you.” Michelle had had a similar incidence occur early in their marriage. Plus Noah’s mother would have his hide if she found out he let Ruth drive home without making sure she made it safely.

“That’s really not necessary.”

“It is. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t take the freeway or drive over forty-five miles an hour. And here. My cell is listed on my card in case you have any other problems.”

Ruth bristled but accepted Noah’s business card. His attitude reminded her of her older brothers. Which, in the stillness of the late evening, might not be such a bad thing after all.

Weariness bit into her body as she drove home, making sure to follow Noah’s advice. If her spare blew, she’d have no transportation at all, and she didn’t want to rely on his services again. She couldn’t wait for a nice, long hot bath and that pint of ice cream to soothe her muscles. If only it would do something to soothe her mind. The pain written in Noah’s eyes followed her all the way from the parking
lot like the real Noah did in his white truck. There, but not there.

On autopilot, she turned down the darkened street illuminated by overhead streetlights where her small three-bedroom house sat at the end of the cul-de-sac. The one-story slump block house in an older area of Scottsdale was too big for just herself, but something about it had fulfilled a need inside her.

Her headlights caught the neighbor’s black and white cat as it ran across the street and on to her front porch. Great. Why couldn’t the cat find another place to hide? Like under her other neighbor’s Camaro that he always left parked in front of her house.

Stifling a yawn, she pushed the garage door opener. As she waited, she stared at the tiny porch almost hidden by the overgrown fuchsia bougainvilleas planted on either side. Tomorrow she’d do a much-needed trim session on all her plants and trees and try to work off the feelings brought to the surface by Noah Barton.

By doing something productive, she could retain some semblance of order. Unlike Noah’s attitude, her sister’s death or all the sick children in the hospital waiting for her to bring them a transplant, Ruth had the power to control her yard, her laundry and even her emotions.

Somewhat. She’d forgotten to finish the laundry she’d started the other day. Before she pulled into her garage, she opened her window, mouthed a thank-you and waved goodbye. Noah’s headlights flashed across the exterior of her house as he slowly rounded the cul-de-sac before driving away.

Once inside the kitchen, she flipped on the lights, dropped her bag on the table, placed her uneaten dinner in the refrigerator and then scooped up the mail she’d
overlooked yesterday. Then she headed for the phone. She’d been gone all day. Even a friendly sales call message would be welcome right about now.

The quiet didn’t usually bother her, but with the memories of Rachel and Bonnie hovering near the surface, the stillness brought home the fact that something was missing out of her life. Burying the need for a companion with work and volunteering wasn’t working as well as it had before. Her “one day” had changed to “today.” She wanted a partner. A husband. A child or two to cuddle. She wanted someone to hang out with after work. Someone to talk over her day with. Someone to commiserate with.

God was there for her and always would be, but suddenly she wanted more than a one-sided conversation. Ruth bowed her head in shame. So what if the Lord didn’t talk back to her in words. She felt His comfort and His love all the time. He would never forsake her or fail her like others around her had.

Feeling better, she flipped her hair into a knot at the base of her neck, wandered into her dark kitchen and flipped the light switch. She thought about Noah.

Another Mr. Wrong.

Ruth grasped the freezer door and pulled. Much to her disappointment, only some waffles, a bag of frozen peas and a few ice trays resided inside. She wrinkled her nose when she realized she’d eaten her last pint a few nights ago. After smacking the door shut with her hip, she filled the teakettle with water and turned on the gas burner.

Her thoughts wandered to Noah again as she keyed her way to her voice mail. Unlike David, at least Noah didn’t lie or misrepresent himself about his beliefs. Even until the end, Ruth had believed David had been as committed to the Lord as her until she found out differently.

Five minutes and seven messages later, Ruth kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet underneath her as she sat on her oversized toffee-colored couch. The cup of tea she’d brewed sat on the distressed hardwood coffee table. Her gaze scanned the contents of her mail—bills, what looked like an invitation and a few credit card solicitations.

Her hand stilled on the society magazine she kept forgetting to cancel. Out of habit, she glanced through pictures of the “Who’s Who?” of Phoenix. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she stared at the picture of David with his new bride.

Betrayal stabbed her. Ruth squeezed her eyes shut and blindly reached for her cordless phone. Obviously David had no problem committing to another woman; it was just Ruth he had a problem with.

Tilting her head back to rest against the cool leather, she dialed her older sister’s number and waited. Karen had always had a knack of knowing when one of her siblings needed to talk. Tonight was no exception as Ruth returned her sister’s call. A night owl herself, Ruth knew her sister wouldn’t mind the late hour talk.

“Hi, Ruth, you’re up late. Work? Or are you seeing someone new?” Her sister’s chipper voice carried through the line, reminding Ruth of an earlier time and place. Back in the family fold. Safe and secure without a care in the world.

“David’s married.” Ruth paced to the laundry room and pulled out the wrinkled whites.

The pause on the other end of the line fed into the insecurities that had resurfaced today. Ruth wrapped strands of hair around her forefinger as her teeth bit her bottom lip.

“Good riddance.” Karen seethed.

“What?” Ruth pulled the phone from her ear and let
Karen rant. Her sister’s anger surprised her. Of all her siblings, Karen was the most even-tempered of the bunch.

“I never liked him. And how he treated you—”

Instead of shifting the dank smelling, damp clothes from the washer into the dryer, Ruth decided to rewash them as she tried to pacify her suddenly fiery sister. “Karen, stop. I’m sorry I upset you. Forget I mentioned it.”

Her sister ignored her words. “What’s his phone number again? I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”

“That’s not necessary.” The gnawing in Ruth’s stomach intensified as she twisted the knob into position and pulled it out to start the cycle. Then she dragged the basket of whites she’d pulled from the dryer back to the living room.

She stared at the picture of her and her two brothers and two remaining sisters sitting on the fireplace mantel. Tall, dark and thin, Karen resembled their father more than their mother, who Ruth favored, with her fuller figure and blond hair.

As usual, Ruth was stuck in the middle. The same as her birth order. But that wasn’t the reason for her position in the picture. Her siblings crowded her to protect her as they hadn’t been able to protect Rachel. “I can fight my own battles now.”

Her sister protested. “But it’s something we’ve always done.”

Ruth’s fingers tightened on the phone. It only took a phone call to undo the progress she made over the years away from her family. “I know, and I appreciate it. But I’m not a baby anymore. And I’m not going to die like Rachel.”

The silence drained her further.

“Listen. Please don’t say anything to the family about
David, okay? I’m over it. He has a right to start a new life just as I have.”

Her sister’s sudden lack of words freaked Ruth out, and if she’d had any energy left, she’d be pacing the room.

“Right. I love you and I just want you to know that I’ll always be there for you. No matter what. Call me anytime. Day or night.” Karen’s soft voice reached out through the telephone.

“Thanks, Karen.”

“Now to get back to my question. Were you working or are you seeing someone new?”

Ruth dropped back down on the sofa. “Work. “

“You work too hard. Check out that single’s group at the church you told me about. Live a little. Have some fun. The best thing for you to do is to start seeing someone else.”

“Work is my life. You know that, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll see what activities are scheduled for next month.” But she knew she was only saying those words to pacify her sister. Still, her voice hitched as an image of Noah Barton appeared in her mind’s eye. Heat crept to her cheeks at the thought of the pilot.

The man was all wrong for her. A wounded hero with tons of baggage like herself. Yet she couldn’t ignore his anguish and pain. Her nurturing side instinctively took over, and despite the fact the pilot didn’t like her career, Ruth found herself wanting to help him.

Her fingers grabbed the colorful striped pillow, and she clutched it to her chest. A stuffed piece of fabric was a far cry from holding another human being in her arms.

“Look, it’s late and I’m tired, Karen. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Bye.”

After hanging up the phone, Ruth plumped the pillow
and set it back down on the sofa. Then she picked up her tea. She took a sip and stared at the haphazard stack of magazines under her coffee table. The pile of laundry waiting to be folded mocked her. The basket of yarn with two needles poking out screamed amateur over her lame attempt to knit a scarf for her niece. Her life and job had descended into chaos. Starting tomorrow Ruth would get everything organized and tidy, but right now she needed some sleep.

“Hi, Ruth. Glad to see you today.” Mrs. Olson, the elderly woman who usually volunteered every weekday afternoon until eight at the reception desk in the Children’s Center in the Agnes P. Kingfisher Memorial Hospital in central Scottsdale, pushed the visitor registration clipboard across the counter.

“Hi, Mrs. Olson, what are you doing here today? Where’s Margaret Ann? I thought she was due back this week?” Ruth signed her name and grabbed a visitor badge from the basket next to the vase filled with silk flowers.

Concern etched into the retired nurse’s numerous wrinkles. “She’s come down with a staph infection from her hip replacement surgery. Keep her in your prayers for a speedy recovery.”

Disquiet settled across Ruth before she shook it off. The other elderly volunteer was probably healthier than she was. Margaret Ann would be okay, but Ruth would put out a prayer request nonetheless. “I certainly will. So how’s my favorite patient doing?”

“Little Marissa’s been asking for you all day.” Mrs. Olson pulled her reading glasses from her nose and let them hang from the brightly beaded holder. Her faded blue eyes softened and filled with moisture. “Some days
are better than others. Today is one of the good ones. I know she and the rest of the kids will be happy to see you.”

Ruth’s stomach relaxed as she pinned the badge to her blouse. Her gaze skimmed the scenic photos that lined the walls of the foyer and the potted plants stationed by the door. Today they brought a measure of comfort. Five-year-old Marissa was declining rapidly while waiting for a new heart. Each day she remained on Earth was a blessing to her parents, and the staff, and to the lives of the people Marissa touched. “That’s terrific. She wasn’t doing so well when I saw her on Wednesday.”

“Things have changed.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Olson. She’ll be my first stop then.” Ruth stepped away from the counter and headed toward the elevator that would take her to the fourth floor. The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. With a final wave and smile to the woman now talking on the phone, Ruth stepped into it.

A few minutes later, the soothing light blue colored walls greeted Ruth as she walked down the hallway toward the playroom where the head nurse had told her most of the kids were waiting—Marissa included. The heels of her sandals clicked an odd beat against the linoleum floor.

Outside room 401 she saw an empty wheelchair. Poking her head through the darkened threshold, she spied the carefully made bed and the unadorned walls and missing trophies and photo frames. A smile lit her lips. The doctors had finally released Johnny Trueblood.

Continuing down the hallway, she saw a towheaded child poke her head back inside the large room at the end of the hall, and soon the sound of giggles erupted the stillness. No chance of making a surprise entrance tonight.