Love. The word rang in Perrie's head. He had said the words while she had pretended to be asleep. I love you, Perrie, and I know you love me. At the time, she'd brushed them off, thinking mat they were empty of meaning outside the bedroom.
But what if Brennan was speaking from his heart? What if he truly loved her? "But if he loved me, why did he let me leave?" she said.
"Kincaid, what the hell are you mumbling about?"
Perrie glanced up at Milt, then shook her head and groaned. "I'm so confused. And I think I may have made a big mistake."
"On the Riordan story?"
"Oh, to hell with the Riordan story, Milt. I'm talking about me and Joe. I just walked out on him. When, all the while, he believed I would want to stay."
"Stay where?"
"In Alaska."
Milt stared at her, head cocked, as if she'd completely lost her mind. Then he patted her on the shoulder again. "By the way, I showed your wolf story around. Great piece of work. In fact, one of the syndicates got hold of it and called me. Wanted to pay big bucks for more. I told him you didn't live in Alaska and there wouldn't be more."
"I could live in Alaska," Perrie said, the notion not nearly as ridiculous as it once seemed.
"No, you couldn't," Milt replied. "You work in Seattle."
"I wouldn't have to work in Seattle. I could work in Muleshoe. I could call that syndicator and sell my stories to him. I have a lot more. And I could string for the Fairbanks or Anchorage paper. Or I could start my own paper. There's this old newspaper office above Paddy Doyle's tavern. I mean, I'd have to upgrade the equipment, get a computer, maybe even a new press. And there's not much circulation. But Joe makes flights into the bush all the time. I bet those families would be glad to get some local news. And running a weekly would be-"
"Kincaid! Stop! You're talking like a crazy woman. You can't live in Alaska."
A slow smile grew on Perrie's lips. "Yes, I can. I can live wherever I want."
"But what about your career?"
"I'm a writer, Milt. I can write anywhere, including Muleshoe, Alaska."
"I think you're overtired, Kincaid. Jet-lagged. Maybe you've been in the wilderness too long. It's my fault. I made a mistake sending you there. Go home. Get some rest You can write the Riordan story tomorrow."
Perrie reached down beneath the desk and grabbed the strap of her shoulder bag, then yanked it out. "No, Milt," she said, placing the bag in his arms. "You can write the Riordan story. Here are all my notes and research and evidence."
"The story is yours, Kincaid. You have to write it."
She stood up. "No, I don't. Right now, I have to go back to Alaska. I have to find out if Joe Brennan really loves me."
"Joe Brennan loves you? My Joe Brennan?"
Perrie laughed. "He was your Joe Brennan, but now he's my Joe Brennan." She grabbed the phone from the corner of the desk. "I have to call him and tell him I'm coming." She snatched her hand away. "No, maybe I should just fly up there and talk to him." She shook her head. "I'll call Julia. I'll let her know I'm coming. She can pick me up at the airstrip."
Perrie rummaged through the bag Milt held, searching for her day planner before she realized she didn't have the number for the lodge. "I need the phone number. Get me the phone number, Milt. Never mind, I'll get it."
She sprang out of her chair and hurried toward Milt's office. His phone file was on his desk and she riffled through it until she found the card for the Bachelor Creek Lodge. Grabbing Milt's chair, she pulled it up to the desk and sat down, then dialed the phone.
Her heart pounded in her chest and she prayed that Joe wouldn't answer. When she finally spoke to him again, she wanted to be standing face-to-face. She wanted to be able to look into his eyes and see the truth there.
The phone was answered on the first ring. "Joe?" said a feminine voice.
"Julia?"
"Who is this?"
Perrie cleared her throat. "It's Perrie Kincaid."
"Oh, Perrie. Thank goodness you called. Has Joe contacted you?"
Perrie frowned. "No, he hasn't. Isn't he there?"
A long silence met her question. Then Julia finally spoke. "Perrie, I have some bad news. Joe was ferrying supplies to a town near the Arctic Circle and he never showed up. He filed a flight plan and he radioed ahead so they were expecting him before dark. He took the Cub. At first we thought he might have flown down to see you."
"Me?"
"Tanner said he seemed pretty upset after you left. We thought he might have flown down to Seattle to straighten things out."
"He-he isn't here," Perrie said. "He didn't call."
"Hawk says that Joe would never deliberately deviate from his flight plan. That's why we're worried."
"He's a good pilot," Perrie murmured. "The best. He'd never…" Her heart turned to ice and her breath froze in her chest as the true meaning of Julia's words sank in. Joe's plane had gone down in the wilderness and they didn't know where he was.
She brought her fingers to her mouth to stop a cry of fear, then blinked back the sudden flood of tears pressing at the cornets of her eyes.
"I'm flying up mere," Perrie said, her voice surprisingly calm. "I'll get a flight out as soon as I can. I may have to fly into Anchorage and then on to Fairbanks, but I'll get mere by morning. I promise."
"Perrie, you don't have to-"
"I want to be there, Julia. I belong in Muleshoe."
"All right. Call the lodge before you leave Fairbanks and I'll send Hawk out to the airstrip to pick you up."
"I'll be mere as soon as I can. And, Julia?"
"Yes?"
"If they find him before I get there, would you tell him that I love him? And that everything will work out?"
The tiny airstrip at Muleshoe appeared in the distance just as the sun was rising. Perrie stared out the window of the bush plane, shielding her eyes against the glare, hoping she might see the red wings of Joe's Super Cub. But as the pilot descended, her heart fell, as well. There was no sign of the plane.
She said a silent prayer, hoping that Joe had turned up at another airstrip, hoping that he was safe in some other bush town. She'd been in the air all night, flying from Seattle to Anchorage to Fairbanks. And then she had struggled to find a bush pilot in the early hours of the morning.
They'd left Fairbanks before dawn, and as they came into Muleshoe, she realized that she hadn't slept in more than two days, since the last night she and Joe had spent together at her cabin. Her thoughts skipped back to that night, and then to the night after, when they'd made love.
She couldn't allow herself to believe that they would never see each other again. Joe had to be alive and safe. He flew in the wilderness all the time and he had bragged that he could put the Cub down anywhere he pleased. If he'd had trouble, perhaps he'd safely landed the plane and was just waiting to be found.
"Looks like there's someone down there," the pilot shouted, pointing to the far end of the runway.
Perrie squinted against the rising sun and saw the Blazer parked near the row of planes. As the pilot circled the landing strip, she caught sight of Hawk, staring up into the sky. She had talked to him by phone right before she'd left Fairbanks and there had been no news of Joe.
Now, two hours later, she wondered if anything had changed.
The plane landed on the smooth snow and slid to a stop. Perrie shoved the door open and hopped out, then ran across the snow toward Hawk. She threw herself into his arms and he hugged her tight, picking her up off the ground. Then he set her down and stepped back. "I'm glad you came."
"Has there been any news?"
Hawk shook his head. "They're sending out search planes right now. We'll find him."
"What about his radio? Hasn't he tried to contact anyone?"
"Maybe his radio is out."
"But how could the radio just go out, unless-" Perrie stopped short, not wanting to complete the thought. Unless the plane was damaged. Unless Joe had crashed somewhere in the wilderness.