Return by Air (Glacier Adventure Series Book 1) Read online

  Return By Air

  Tracey Jerald

  Copyright © 2020 by Tracey Jerald

  ISBN: 978-1-7330861-6-5 (eBook)

  ISBN: 978-1-7330861-7-2 (Paperback)

  Editor: One Love Editing (http://oneloveediting.com)

  Proof Edits: Holly Malgieri (https://www.facebook.com/HollysRedHotReviews/)

  Cover Design by Tugboat Design (https://www.tugboatdesign.net/)

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  For Tara, who made the decision to go it alone and still found true love in the end.

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Jennings

  2. Kara

  3. Jennings

  4. Kara

  5. Jennings

  6. Jennings

  7. Jennings

  8. Jennings

  9. Kara

  10. Jennings

  11. Jennings

  12. Kara

  13. Kara

  14. Kara

  15. Jennings

  16. Jennings

  17. Jennings

  18. Kara

  19. Jennings

  20. Jennings

  21. Kara

  22. Jennings

  23. Kara

  24. Jennings

  25. Kara

  26. Kara

  27. Jennings

  28. Kara

  29. Jennings

  30. Kara

  31. Kara

  32. Jennings

  33. Kara

  34. Kara

  35. Jennings

  36. Kara

  37. Jennings

  38. Jennings

  39. Kara

  40. Jennings

  41. Kara

  42. Kara

  43. Jennings

  44. Kara

  Epilogue

  The End

  Also by Tracey Jerald

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Kara

  “How far along are you again, dear?”

  I let out a sigh of relief at my mother’s banal reaction over my overwhelming news. I’ve known since just before I left Alaska to come back to Florida, but this is the first time my parents and I have had a moment to reconnect.

  “Just over twelve weeks,” I reply, modulating my voice carefully. I smooth my hand over my navy blue shirtwaist dress, my grandmother’s bracelet glittering at my wrist. I dressed the perfect part of the daughter my parents always wanted today—demure, not the woman I grew into being.

  Most of the way to a doctoral degree in physics at the age of twenty-three, there was nothing I wanted more than to experience science tactically. That was until I met him.

  Then all I wanted was more of his words.

  My soul needed more of his kisses.

  And I lost myself in his touch.

  “Kara, are you listening?” my mother snaps.

  “I apologize, Mother. You were saying?”

  “I asked what your plans were?”

  “Well, based on my calculations, the baby should be due around mid-March.”

  “You haven’t seen a doctor yet?”

  “No, not yet. I wanted to resolve matters at school as I don’t feel it would be appropriate for me to attend next semester.”

  “No, that wouldn’t do at all. Would it?” My mother sniffs before taking a delicate sip of her tea. “Chip? What are your thoughts? You’re too quiet over there.” She tips her head imperceptibly in my father’s direction.

  My father’s so detached, he might as well be in another room. He was on the phone for some time, scribbling hastily in his journal. When my mother’s voice calls him to attention, he replies, “Hmm?”

  “I said, it wouldn’t do for Kara to attend school next semester. Do you agree?”

  “Certainly not. After all, how will she pay for it?”

  “Well, I understand babies are expensive, however, once grandfather’s trust comes in…” I carefully outline my—our—plans.

  My parents stare at me blankly, as if I’m speaking a foreign language. Then my father chuckles warmly.

  I relax my posture slightly. It will be all right. All that fear for nothing.

  Then he opens his mouth and shows me why I was terrified to come here—back to where they ruined so many memories, why I escaped into the land of fact over emotion. I wish I could whisk myself back to the land that matched his eyes for just a moment. Because even though I was less prepared for the consequences of lying in his arms than I am for this conversation, I felt safe there.

  Even if it was only for a short while. Here? I don’t know if I ever felt truly at rest.

  Addressing my mother, he says, “Pat, excuse me for my terribly rude behavior earlier, love. That was what the call was about. Kara’s trust can be blocked, just as it was for Dean.”

  “Excuse me?” I whisper. My older brother came out a few years before. And while we’ve maintained a close relationship, he was disowned by my parents. Or as disowned as a man of twenty-five could be. Thumbing his nose at the Malone heritage, he continued living exactly as he was as a fireman just outside the city limits.

  I’ve loved my brother my whole life, and who he chooses to spend the rest of his life with means exactly one thing to me—Dean’s happiness. But to my parents, it posed an image issue.

  So, they dealt with the image. Much like I suspect, to my queasy stomach, my father’s doing right now.

  Ignoring my presence, my mother beams at him. “Oh, that’s delightful, darling. I knew you could do it.”

  He smiles shyly at her praise for his abominable behavior. “They said it was trickier this time since Kara is over eighteen, however, I was able to convince the board she showed poor judgment by not only delaying her studies but by becoming sexually compromised. They agreed that if she was unable or unwilling to terminate the pregnancy, they would vote to revert her portion of the trust to the main fund.” Barely sparing me a glance, he bites down on his lower lip. “I don’t suppose you would consider—”

  “How dare you!” I leap out of the settee I’m perched on, outraged. “This is your grandchild.”

  “That—” My mother cringes. “—is an abomination. One we could still see about resolving if you’d use that logic you’re notorious for flaunting at inopportune times. Dear, Chip, did we apologize to the Fitzgeralds for the snub Kara gave their son the other night at the club?”

  “I don’t believe we did. Let me make a note to—”

  “You want me to murder my child!” I shout.

  “And you’re asking me to give up mine,” Mother interjects smoothly.

  Even as I press my hand firmly against my lower stomach, I hiss, “No one is forcing you to do anything except abide by your own worthless credo.” Storming to the door, I’m halted by my father’s voice. “Yes?” I spin to face them.

  “Before you leave, we expect you to return everything on your person th
at belongs to us.”

  Confused, I hitch my shoulders. “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Your credit cards, your cell phone. I’d ask for your car, but frankly, it’s too annoying to deal with selling for the value. Oh, and that.” He nods at the bracelet I’m rubbing back and forth across my wrist.

  “No, Grandmother left this to me.” I clasp my hand over it tightly. It’s memories of laughter between me and Dean as children running up and down the beach at her home on Amelia Island, free from rules and etiquette. Free from the worry of disappointing my parents again.

  “Your grandmother left it to the estate. We gave it to you,” my mother counters. Turning to my father, she wonders aloud, “I know I asked before with the other one, but is it possible to disown your grown children?”

  “I looked into it before, darling. I can see if anything different has arisen since then if you like?”

  “Do, please,” Mother encourages. “In the meanwhile, Kara—if you please?”

  Almost like a robot, I pull out the few items they can lay claim to on my person, knowing with it I lose one of two ways I have to contact Jennings about the baby.

  God, I hope he checks the email I sent him.

  Dropping everything with a clatter onto their Chippendale pedestal table by the door, I reach for the clasp on my grandmother’s bracelet. Without breaking eye contact, I stride right to my mother and whisper, “Grandmother wanted me to wear this. She wanted it for me.”

  “She didn’t want this for you,” my mother sneers, making a circle with her fingers.

  “Maybe not. But she still would have loved me.” Dropping the bracelet in her lap, I announce, “I’ll wear it again one day.”

  Without a word, without a sound, I turn and walk away from my family’s compound.

  Groaning, I flush the toilet of Dean’s bathroom. “I’m so glad I stayed with you when I got home.”

  Sitting on the edge of his tub, he rubs a hand up and down my back. “And this is where you’re going to stay, Kara.”

  “I don’t think your social life is ready for your sister to be curled up on your sofa bed—”

  “We’re moving this weekend,” he states firmly.

  “What?” I shriek, but that only sets off the nausea that seems to come whenever my emotions are out of whack. In other words, I don’t feel like I’ve kept a meal down since before Jennings broke things off in Juneau. And I didn’t even suspect I was pregnant then.

  “Shh. Let me put this on your neck. It will help with the nausea.” I hear the rush of water in the sink before a cold rag is dripping down my already ruined dress. “Goddamn bastards.” Dean rubs his fingers over my wrist where I’ve chafed it raw in the hours since I managed to make it back to his apartment.

  I let out a choked sob. “Mom and Dad?”

  “Among others.” He lets go for just a moment before I hear the opening and closing of a medicine cabinet. “Let’s get some cream on and bandage you up. You don’t need a scar.”

  “Dean, what you said—”

  “We’re moving, Kara. There’s a two-bedroom unit open on the other side of the complex. Some of the guys are going to come help us move. All we need to get you is a bed and a dresser.” He tells me our plans as he gently wraps my chafed wrist. “Think you can deal with your brother as a roommate?”

  “I’ll get a job as soon as I can. I’ll keep our home clean. I’ll…” My litany is stopped by Dean lifting my tearstained face to his.

  “You’ll take care of my future niece or nephew first. I love you, Kara. No matter who comes and goes in our life, you were the first person I loved.”

  I throw my arms around my brother and hold him tight in the cramped space. “You were too, Dean.”

  I don’t know how long we sit there just holding on to one another until all the fight leaves my body.

  When I wake up the next day, I wake up in Dean’s bed. There’s a small can of cold ginger ale next to me with a key and a note. Reaching for it, I read aloud, “Get out for some air. It will do you some good. See you when I get home from my shift tomorrow.”

  I put the note back and murmur, “I think I’ll stay right where I am. I’m pretty certain falling from the air is what landed me here.”

  Jennings

  There’s a light knock on my door. Not turning my head from my computer, I call out, “Come in, Lou,” knowing only one person would dare to interrupt me while I’m reviewing the payroll she banished me to my office to complete two hours ago.

  After all, as Lou informed me while nudging me in the middle of my back, “People like to get paid, Jennings, so why don’t you get on that and make it happen before they all walk out on you? Better yet, maybe they’ll steal your planes and just fly away to a better job. One with a boss who pays them on time.”

  I paused at the threshold of the door to glare down at the retired military drill sergeant who’s the operations manager of Northern Star Flights. “Why do I keep you around anyway?”

  “Because you’re too scared of me to fire me?” she joked.

  I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I entered my office and slammed the door behind me in response, refusing to admit she’s right.

  Now, for Lou to be interrupting me, either something’s gone wrong down at the airstrip, or there’s a phone call I have to be on. The door creaks open to reveal her trembling. I immediately jump to my feet in concern. “What happened?” Nothing shakes Lou’s composure except an utter catastrophe. Despite her diminutive stature, the woman frankly scares the crap out of every arrogant flight jockey who comes through my office.

  I’m now bracing myself as she makes her way toward me holding a large manila envelope. “What’s in there?” I nod toward it.

  Lou doesn’t stop at the front of my desk. Instead she walks around the side of it. Twisting myself around, my body locks solid when tears leak out of her eyes. “Just tell me,” I demand.

  “It’s from a probate firm in Juneau,” she rasps out. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but Jed’s—”

  “Stop,” I rasp out harshly.

  “Jennings, I’m so sor—”

  “No!” I cut her off, my mind already anticipating what she’s about to say. But if the words come out, then it will be real. And that’s impossible. She can’t be standing in front of me telling me I’ve lost one of the brothers of my heart. Somehow, I’d have known. Right?

  But even as my mind’s denying it, I’m reaching for Lou. Harsh sobs rack my body as I realize I’ll never see his wild brown hair standing up at every angle at one of our reunions ever again. I’ll never hear his crazy stories about the locals at his bar in Florida. And the only time I’ll likely get to meet his family—the man he married, his sister-in-law, and nephew—will be at his funeral.

  “Just hold on, Jennings,” Lou tries to soothe me.

  I swallow and open and close my mouth as I try to speak, but no words come out, only an agonized moan. For once, I do what Lou says without argument and just grab tight.

  After getting myself under control, I ask for a few moments alone. Dropping back into my desk chair, I wipe my eyes with a shaking hand before I reach for the offensive envelope. Pulling out the sheet of paper, I read the formal notification from Isler, Litchfield, Garrish, and Knight that Jed is truly gone.

  A quick glance at the contents offers a briefly worded apology for my loss as well as instructional information about “where a memorial and burial service will be held for the remains of Jedidiah Jonas Smith,” I read aloud in the empty office. “God, he didn’t even have a chance to change his name with the fucking attorneys.” Crumpling the paper in my hands, I press my fists up to my mouth to subdue the whimpering sounds of pain that try to escape.

  Jed’s gone forever. The best one of all of us. How? Why?

  And unable to find the answers in the carefully worded letter, I sink down into my chair, lay my head down on my desk, and let the pain swamp over me as planes take off and land behind me, for once without
my notice or caring.

  All I feel is numb.

  Much later when I’m again able to form coherent sentences, I pick up the phone to call another one of our “brothers,” Kody. “Did you—”

  I can’t even get the full sentence out of my mouth when he’s breaking in with a subdued “I won’t insult you by asking if you’re going.”

  “Absolutely. Do you want me to fly down to Portland and pick you up?”

  “Jesus, Jennings.” His laugh is riddled with tears. “When we first met, did you ever think you would actually be saying that to me?”

  A sharp pain stabs into me when my eye lands on the other item that was included in the envelope that came with the notification of Jed’s demise. A second envelope had a copy of a photo of the five of us from the last summer we were all in the Ketchikan Lumberjack Show together. Our arms are all thrown around each other, and we’re completely hamming it up for the camera dressed in suspenders and plaid flannel shirts—standard attire we wore for every show. Jed looks like a hillbilly in between us all wearing a pair of half-done-up overalls.

  I gruffly reply, “Jed did. He believed in all of us.” My mind drifts back to the nights we spent on break at the Smiths’ family home those summers we worked together. We’d stay up talking about what our futures entailed. For me, all it meant was being in the air, no matter what that took. Or whose heart it meant breaking to do it.