“It’s in the mountains in the very northern part of Georgia. My mom and I vacationed there with Harvey and his family last Christmas. It should only take us about two hours in this plane.”
“So, what’s after Georgia?”
“Well, this is your escape, but I was thinking we could fly out to Colorado after a couple days at Harvey’s place. I know some people out there and I think we’ll be pretty safe.” He reached over and gently touched my arm as I held the controls, “You can relax, Leese. We’re going to be fine.”
“What did you tell your mom?” my voice sounded strange as it came across the mic.
“I told her that you were in a tight spot and needed my help,” he said, settling back in his seat and watching the horizon.
“And that was enough for her?” I couldn’t mask my disbelief.
“I told her this was going to give me some time to decide about the military. She’s nagged me to change my mind ever since I decided to follow in Dad’s footsteps. So, to tell the truth, I think she’s hoping you’ll put me on a different path.”
I swallowed hard. I had put him on a different path, one that was just as dangerous as flying into a combat zone.
The next two hours passed quickly as Ryan explained every instrument on the displays, talked about a few of the crazy things he had done when flying, and spoke more freely about his dad. It was obvious how much he loved his father and, at one point, he simply went silent to keep from getting emotional.
I marveled at the beautiful mountains below us when I saw the landing strip appear in the distance. I wasn’t expecting anything impressive, after all this was supposed to be a housing community, but it was a straight, smooth 5,000 foot concrete strip on top of a mountain done as well as any commercial airport.
“Okay, Leese, I think I’d better handle this part,” he said as we lined up with the runway.
He set us down as gently as a feather gliding to earth and then turned and taxied to a group of hangers in the center of the strip.
Once the airplane was secured, one of the men that assisted us getting it into the hanger offered us a ride up to Harvey’s house. He had a small pickup truck, so Ryan said we’d ride in the bed. I’ve never ridden in the back of a truck and it was actually fun, but what made it even better was the fact that we weren’t sitting in the cab making up stories as to why we were here.
The house was a single story ranch with a lot of natural stone and wood on the exterior, set on a landscaped acre of ground with a long range view down the mountainside. We waved goodbye to our ‘country taxi,’ as Ryan called it, and went inside. The interior of the house was like stepping into a log cabin. There was a huge stone fireplace, rough sawn beams across the cathedral ceilings, heavy wooden furniture with oversized cushions, and a large kitchen with pine board cabinets and granite countertops.
Ryan set down his bags and said we’d better head into town if I wanted to have something different to wear by tomorrow.
“I know you may think I’m being a little dramatic, but it might be a good idea to see if Harvey’s got a couple ball caps or something so we don’t look so much like-like us.” More importantly was that I didn’t look so much like me. Over the last several months it wasn’t odd to see my face on the front of a tabloid or newspaper. I had been offered to be featured in People magazine when I came out of the hospital, but I wasn’t ready for the world to completely jump into my life.
It didn’t take him long to find a pair of caps. I ran my fingers through my long hair, pulling it away from my face and into a makeshift bun at the back of my head and secured it with the cap. Ryan slipped on a Cessna cap over his silky black hair and asked if I was ready. I nodded and we went out to the garage.
Harvey’s truck was much bigger than what we’d ridden in to his house. It was a Dodge Ram 2500, with over-padded cloth seats and a plush interior. It felt as if it took up half the road as Ryan carefully backed it out of the garage and turned it toward town. It left me wondering what it would be like to drive something so big. Every vehicle I’d had was small compared to this, and Ryan made it look easy as we drove down the mountain.
By one-thirty we were pulling into a Super Wal-Mart. We locked the truck and headed inside as I gave a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked as he snagged a buggy from the parking space beside us.
“I’m going to have a complex about Wal-Mart,” I said, shaking my head.
He gave a half laugh and asked why.
“It seems that every time I’m on the run, I end up at a Wal-Mart, once with Mom, Micah and now you.”
“They say the third time is the charm,” he said, flashing his dazzling smile, “So I must be the charm.”
“Well, come on Charming, we’ve got a lot of stuff to buy.”
We picked up enough groceries to last us three or four days and then I grabbed two new duffels, jeans, skirts, shirts, shoes, and a big purse. I did find it interesting that Ryan would not go into the ladies unmentionable aisle with me as Micah had once done (without so much as a blush). Ryan stood far away by a display of apples and acted as if he were thoroughly inspecting each piece of fruit.
When we rolled up to the pharmacy area where the cosmetics, bathroom items, and feminine products were kept, he made a beeline for the blood pressure machine and must have taken his pressure three times as I walked around picking up things I needed.
I finally grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the machine as I explained that I needed his help with something. He looked petrified until I took him down the hair color aisle and asked for his opinion on what to dye my hair.
“Black, definitely black,” he stated grabbing a bottle of color.
I pulled it from his hand and placed it back on the shelf, “No. I want your opinion on what shade of blonde to buy. I’m cutting it, too,” I added as I grabbed a pair of shears and threw them in the buggy.
He picked up an electric trimmer and said he guessed he needed to change his appearance as well. He grabbed a bottle of light auburn hair color and put it in the cart.
“Red?” I was trying hard to keep the funny lilt out of my voice, “I can’t picture you with red hair.”
“Well, I can’t picture you as a blonde, but you will need streaks he said grabbing more hair products.
“I don’t want streaks,” I protested, afraid I’d come out looking like an odd type of skunk if I let him get carried away.
“Too bad, you’re getting them. I mean, if you aren’t going to let me dye it black then you’re going to, at the least, have great blond highlights.”
I frowned and started for checkout before he decided I needed a little bit of blue or pink streaks, too.
We loaded the counter as the cashier began scanning our items. She kept looking at us and smiling.
“Ya’ll must be newlyweds,” she finally bubbled out, as her eyes went from my spectacular rings back to our faces.
“Yup,” Ryan lied, putting his arm around me and giving me a squeeze, “her luggage got lost on our flight from California to here, which sucks for a girl.” He was covering quite smoothly for the fact that we were buying a tub-load of clothes for me and nothing for him.
“Aah! I know what you mean, honey,” she said as she gave that little southern flick of her wrist. “My sister lost her luggage when she flew in from Vermont last year. Lordy, it was terrible how long it took before they finally found it. It had gone all the way to Washington State. How long ya’ll been married?”
I couldn’t speak, but that was okay because Ryan was on a roll.
“Since yesterday; this is our honeymoon,” he winked at the cashier.
She blushed and kept ringing up items, “Where ya’ll stayin’? Up at the Dillard House? I hear it’s real nice there.”