Vegas Sunrise (25 page)

What should she do first? Call the ski resort of course. She fumbled through the papers on the desk until she found the number Sage had given her. She placed the call, her heart racing inside her chest. “The phone lines are down, ma'am,” the operator said. Ruby broke the connection.

Ruby's racing heart speeded up. Call Sage or Fanny? Fanny had other things on her mind these days. Sage was tuned to his brother. Was she the only one in the world concerned? If so, why was it so? She was only an aunt from the wrong side of the blanket. Would anyone thank her, not that she was expecting thanks, for waking them in the middle of the night to tell them a storm was battering the New England states? Her clenched fist crashed down on the desk. “Like I really care what anyone thinks,” she mumbled. She reached for the phone just as it rang. Nobody ever called her at 11:15 at night. Fanny? Sage? Metaxas? Oh, yes, in my dreams. “Hello,” she said, her voice strangled-sounding.

“Aunt Ruby. Listen, I know I'm going to sound like an overanxious parent, but I just saw the evening news. I feel like I'm going to explode. Did you see the weather report? I dozed off and woke up just as it came on.”

“Oh, lord, Sage, I've been sitting here wondering if I should call you. All day I've had this . . . ominous feeling. Even the chickens are restless. At first I put it down to the fact that there is a full moon. I tried calling the resort in Vermont, but the phone lines are down. I tend to think that happens when there is a storm in those parts. I was debating calling the ranger station when you called. I'm sure we would have heard something if there was a serious problem.”

“How, if the lines are down? I have a really bad feeling about this. I always know when Birch is in trouble. He's in trouble. I know it. I sense it in every bone in my body. I feel like I should be doing something, but I don't know what. I wanted to call Mom but decided not to alarm her. I'm hoping I'm overreacting. For whatever it's worth I've been out of sorts all day myself. Part of it has to do with Iris. By the way, I engaged the services of a . . . never mind, it's not important,” Sage said when he remembered Celia Thornton was the spokesperson for the Thornton chain of Chicken Palaces. “Is your new plane gassed and ready to go?”

Ruby's heart turned over in her chest. “I . . . told them to keep it that way. Dad always kept the plane cleaned, gassed, and ready to go at a moment's notice. When they sent me away to school I got sick a lot in the beginning. Dad was always there before it got dark. He brought your father with him once, but Ash didn't know who I was at the time. I had appendicitis. When I finally got to meet him face-to-face before he died he said I looked familiar and even asked if we'd ever met. I lied and said no. God, why am I telling you this? It isn't important in the scheme of things. The answer is yes, the plane's ready. If you're thinking what I'm thinking, you better forget it. I'm certain the airport is closed. I don't even know if Vermont has an airport. Do you know?”

“They have a small airport. A lot of single-engine planes fly in and out of there. My dad could have set that plane down on a dime in weather conditions you'd only see in your worst nightmares. He was that kind of pilot. Hell, he was an ace during the war.”

In a jittery-sounding voice, Ruby said, “Are you that kind of pilot, Sage?”

“Probably not. I'd give it my best shot. Something's really wrong, Ruby. I want you to trust me on this.”

“I do because I feel just the way you do. Don't those places have CBs or two-way radios? What do they call those things? Truckers use them and have strange names.”

“I'm sure they do. It's not good enough. What if Birch got caught in the storm and lost his way? He could freeze to death. He's lived too long in hundred-degree temperatures in Costa Rica. He's no survivalist. When it comes to snow and freezing temperatures, not too many people are.”

“We need to be logical here, Sage. If that were the case, the lodge would send out the ski patrol to find him. Using their CBs or whatever you call those things they talk on. I'm switching the television to the weather station. You do the same. You call me when they do the next update. I don't want to call and wake Iris.”

“Ruby, do they ever find people in snowstorms?”

“All the time,” Ruby lied.

“Are they alive?”

“Of course,” Ruby lied a second time.

“You're lying, aren't you?”

“Yes. The will to live is very strong, Sage. People have survived horrible horrendous things against all odds. Look, we're probably worrying for nothing. All four of them are probably snug in their beds. Let's face it, we at least know Sunny and Harry are safe. It's the middle of the night in Vermont. I think you and I both reacted to the term ‘freak storm' and then both of us ran with it.”

“One last question, Ruby. If I decide I want to go there, will you let me take your plane? It's a lot to ask.”

“Let me ask you a question, Sage Thornton. If I let you take my plane, can I go with you? Dad gave me flying lessons one year as a birthday present. He kept a Cherokee at Logan Airport for me. I never got my license, though. Dad had his stroke. Sallie moved him to the mountain. Mom got sick, then Dad passed away. Life just got in the way. I might be some good to you.”

“Okay, it's a deal. I'll call you after the next weather forecast.”

“I'll be waiting.” Ruby broke the connection and called the main house. “Edna, I want you to pack me a bag. This is what I want, my long underwear, my fur-lined boots, some flannel shirts, and those heavy wool slacks. Bring my shearling jacket, a wool hat, some gloves, and extra wool socks. Bring both pairs of boots. Fill that huge jug with coffee and make it strong. Make a bunch of sandwiches, thick ones. Add some fruit. Pack up all the flashlights and extra batteries. Look in the garage for the flares. The box is marked. I think we only used half of them when we marked the runway during that dust storm when the pilot was bringing in those baby chicks. If there is an extra one, bring it too, and lots of cigarettes. Two bottles of that fifty-year-old brandy will do nicely. Don't forget anything, Edna.”

What in the name of God was she contemplating? Only a fool would do what she knew Sage was planning. What was even worse, she was planning to go along with his outrageous plan. They were both fools.

Ruby's hand snaked out to the phone. What she was about to do was probably another mistake. Later she could blame it on the bourbon even though she was now stone-cold sober. She dialed the number from memory, not because she dialed it often but because, like now, she'd dial the number and break the connection just as the phone was about to ring at the other end of the line. How many times had she done that? Hundreds? Thousands? Probably thousands. She sucked in her breath and held it for a long moment before she let it out with a loud swoosh. She looked down at her trembling hand. The last time her hand had trembled like this she'd been in bed with Metaxas Parish doing wild, wonderful things that she still dreamed about. Her shaky hand balled into a clenched fist. She banged the desk so hard everything scattered, pencils and pens skittering to the side and rolling on the floor. The small, portable television teetered a moment and then was still. Coffee swished upward to splatter everywhere. “So, who gives a good rat's ass,” she muttered.

The voice was deep, resonant, even at this time of night. Often the voice sounded like a mixture of gravel and molasses. She would know it anyway even if the owner was across a crowded room and whispering. “Metaxas, this is Ruby Thornton.”

“Sweet love, is it really you? Darlin' girl, I still dream about you and wonderful dreams they are. Ya'll having a change of heart where ol' Tex is concerned? Heard about your new venture. Ah wish you the best, li'l gal. So when are ya'll coming for a visit? My plane is gassed and I can be there before you blink if it's me ya'll want to do the visitin',” Metaxas drawled.

“I've been thinking about redecorating these offices. Sprucing the place up if you know what I mean. Some pictures, some plants, a new floor, maybe a chair with an ottoman. New window treatments, that kind of thing. Bright colors. The chicken business is booming. We're about to go with free-range. Maybe you should think about doing something like that with your cattle. You always say you want to be ahead of the pack. Our kickoff for the fast-food palaces is right on schedule. Promotion started a week ago. It's a billion-dollar industry.” Her voice was as jittery and shaky as her hands.

“That's a powerful amount of money. Decorating is something ladies do when they don't have anything else to do. Or else they sell real estate. I'd like to think you were pinin' for me. Now if you'd marry me, we could combine our little empires and control the beef and chicken markets in this country. Forget giving them Colemans a piece of the action. They got enough money with all their electronic and aviation sidelines. They're only distant relatives anyway.”

“You told me you hate chickens.” Ruby immediately picked up on the word marry. She drew in a deep breath. “You aren't free, Metaxas.”

“Sweet love, I am now. Colette up and asked for a divorce a year ago. She said she don't want none of my holdings. Now, don't that beat all. I was prepared to split things right down the middle. He's an artist fella who travels all over paintin' strange things. Bohemian, Colette called him: I bought a hundred pictures, sight unseen. She agreed to that. I'd be mighty pleased to send them to you for your decorating spree.”

Ruby gasped. “You're free!”

“Will be in two more weeks. I was planning a little trip your way. Was going to set my whirlybird right down in your chicken patch and surprise you.”

“You can't do that. It will scare the chickens. We don't have a patch. We have a yard, like in barnyard but big. You have a helicopter?”

“Hell, little love, I have a dozen of them. You want one? I can have it there by morning.”

“No. I. . . I just bought a jet. I'm keeping dad's old plane, though. Sage and Birch like to fly. I bought it for them.”

“That's mighty nice of you. Okay, sweet baby, enough of the polite talk. Why did you call me at this time of night? Are you in trouble?”

“I think so. I just want to tell someone in case . . . you know, let . . . there is nothing you can do. Do you still want to marry me?”

“Do birds want to fly? Didn't you just hear what I said?”

“I didn't hear you say, ‘Will you marry me, Ruby?”'

“I was going to do that in your barnyard after you give me the tour. On my knees. Chicken poop and all.”

“Really.”

“What's your answer going to be?”

“I need time to think and can't rush into anything. I'm not signing any prenuptial agreement.”

“Didn't ask you to, did I? Does that mean yes?”

“No, it doesn't mean yes. It means I'll think about it. I don't have a dress. Finding the right dress and shoes could take a long time.”

“Sweet love, we could do the honors in the buff. That takes care of that problem right off. I'd like to know so I can make some preparations. We want to merge right away. We can set Wall Street on its ear.”

Ruby's voice turned testy. She realized her voice was back to normal, and her hands weren't shaking. “It sounds to me, Metaxas, like you want my chickens more than you want me.”

“A long time ago you told me it was a package deal. Your exact words were, ‘Love me, love my chickens.' Do you
ever
eat beef?”

“No. Do you
ever
eat chicken?”

“No. It pays to be up front with things like this. We'll hire two cooks, one to cook for me and one to cook for you. Things always work out. You calmed down now? You sounded like a pregnant filly at the starting gate.”

There was a smile in Ruby's voice when she said, “Pregnant fillies don't run.”

“Exactly. My ears are open, sweet baby. What can I do for you?”

“Just listen.” The words exploded out of Ruby's mouth like bullets. “I'm ready. I'm just waiting for Sage. I'm sure the airport's closed. I need you to call somebody so we can use the runway. I don't know how that works. I'm sure Sage does. If my brother could land on a flight deck or on a patch of cleared ground in the jungle, then my nephew can land in snow. You have my word that we absolve everyone of any kind of liability. Will you do it, Metaxas?”

“Of course I'll do it. It goes without saying it's a damn fool thing you're planning on doing. You don't even know if there is trouble. You could get yourself killed on a hunch. Where does that leave me?”

Ruby burst out laughing. “Alone without my chickens. It's not a hunch or a whim. It's my gut instinct and the instinct of my nephew who knows his twin is in danger. That's enough for me. You've done worse things with less to go on, Metaxas.”

“That's true, but I'm a man.”

“What the hell do you think my nephew is? Don't go giving me that ‘Me Tarzan you Jane' crap. This is the eighties. We women have been liberated for a long time. We had this discussion once before, Metaxas, and I thought we both agreed that the only thing you could do that I couldn't do was stand up and pee in the bushes. And the only thing I could do that you couldn't do was deliver a baby. Put those things side by side and there isn't a woman in the world who would want to pee in the bushes. I rest my case.”

Metaxas's low rumble of laughter tickled Ruby. He'd laughed like that in bed. “I'm going to follow you,” he said. “If the people I'm going to be calling know I'm going to be landing first, your chances are better. I can leave right now. We'll probably meet up within the hour of landing. I don't want to brag, Ruby, but I can set my plane down on a lily pad without damaging the petals. I've been skiing in Vermont more times than I can remember. I could find my way on the Molly Stark trail blindfolded. Assuming we're going anywhere near the trail that is. As a point of reference the airport is close by. That doesn't mean we'll land at the airport. Trust me, sweet baby.”