Johnny Winchester: River Hunter (9 page)

When the plane finally pushed back, Suzi laid her head
against the seat and closed her eyes.  She had dreaded this moment and
fought the temptation to equate this jet with the tiny plane that had fallen
out of the sky, with her in it, fought to keep the visions from crowding her
mind and taking her over.  It wasn’t until she felt Johnny’s hand on hers
that she realized she was clutching the arm rest for dear life and she forced
herself to relax enough to allow him to gather her hand into his.  Without
opening her eyes, she could feel him close to her.

“It will be all right,” he whispered.  “I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she chided
quietly, her voice more shaky than she liked.

“What makes you think I can’t keep it?  Don’t you
know who I am?  I’m Johnny Winchester, River Hunter!”

 She had to smile, but it didn’t last long. 
The plane sped up, then she felt it leave the earth, and she waited for the
sinking feeling of it returning in a heap.  Continuing to climb, the plane
eventually leveled out and Suzi began to relax.  It wasn’t so much that
she no longer thought it might fall out of the sky as it was the familiar
feeling of jet travel that gave her some sense of security.

Johnny had grabbed a pillow for her, so she took it from
her lap and put it behind her head.

“Doing better?” Johnny asked.

“I think the worst is over.  At least I hope so.”

“Are you going to try to get some sleep?”

“I’m going to try.”  She shifted the pillow several
times before she finally closed her eyes.  But she couldn’t seem to get
comfortable, and, without realizing it, she fidgeted and sighed.

“Can’t get comfortable?” Johnny asked her.

“No,” she sighed.  “I’m dead tired, so I thought
I’d at least be able to take a nap.”

“Here,” he reached out, “hand me your pillow.”

Doing as he asked, she watched as he pulled up the
middle seat dividers, put the pillow on his thigh, and patted it.

“Try lying down.  Put your head here,” he
said.  “We can put this other pillow under your elbow to take the pressure
off your shoulder.”

It looked tempting, but it was more intimate than she
wanted.  Whether his offer flowed out of his innate compassion or was some
special treatment reserved just for her, she could not discern.  Either
one was a problem: his innate compassion meant he didn’t really care for her,
and the special treatment meant he did, which wasn’t in the plan for her
life.  In the end, exhaustion won out and she laid her head on the pillow,
wriggling about as Johnny got the second pillow just right under her elbow.

 “How is that?” he asked once she had gotten
settled.

“This might work.”  She closed her eyes and started
to relax.

The only thing Johnny could do with his left arm,
without putting pressure on Suzi’s shoulder or fractured ribs, was to rest his
elbow on her hip and lay his hand on her forearm.  Watching her carefully
for any discomfort, he relaxed his arm, with no apparent effect.  He’d
done it again, let his instinct preclude rational thought and now Suzi laid on
his lap, his arm encircling her again.  With a stab of panic piercing his
chest, it struck him that every time he had a successful river hunt, he reveled
in the event, while still looking ahead to the next big fish; but right at that
moment, he could die a happy man.  Forcing the thought from his mind, he
laid his head back and drifted off to sleep.

The flight carried them to Vancouver where they changed
planes to fly to Spokane, and by the time they were in the air, Suzi’s level of
anxiety had subsided to a manageable nervousness.  Though both had thought
the sleeping arrangement of the last flight would only add to the tension, it
actually did the opposite: they could banter and touch and actually live to
tell about it.  With the relationship more relaxed, the flight and the
subsequent drive to Pleasant Valley (a small town in Idaho where Suzi lived)
seemed to go by quickly.  Pulling up to her small farmhouse just outside
of town, Suzi thought it was the best sight she’d ever seen.

As Johnny parked the SUV in the driveway, the front door
opened and a little knot of people spilled out.  Two young women, a young
man, and a little girl that appeared to be two or three years old.  Johnny
opened Suzi’s door, helping her out.

“Gramma, Gramma!” the girl cried as she ran towards
Suzi, arms wide.  “Are you okay, Gramma?” she asked, wrapping her arms
around Suzi’s legs.

“I’m okay, honey.  I just hurt my arm and got some
scratches.”

 There were hugs all around, Johnny knew that it
was painful for her, but Suzi made no complaint.  He retrieved the luggage
from the back of the SUV and followed the little knot, now containing Suzi, as
it shuffled into the house.  Once in the living room, Suzi was seated in
her favorite recliner and the footrest raised.  Then she made the
introductions.

“This is Johnny,” she motioned towards him.  “This
is my son, Ashe, his wife Aimmy, and their daughter, Willow.  And my
niece, Antoinette.”

Ashe offered his hand, with a sidelong glance, which
Johnny shook.

“Nice to meet you,” Johnny said.

Ashe nodded and shook his hand firmly.  Johnny
greeted and shook hands with the two young women.  They all settled in the
living room and wanted to hear Suzi’s story, so she gave all the highlights,
leaving out a number of details, ones that Johnny wished he didn’t know
either.  When she got to the beach on the river, she turned it over to
Johnny, figuring he’d remember it all better, but mostly because she was so
very tired.

Johnny finished the story, also leaving out a number of
details that he figured the family really didn’t need to be privy to; the pain
Suzi had endured, the NTSB interview. 

“I still don’t know why you didn’t call me,” Ashe said,
a bit sternly.

“I didn’t have my phone, I left it on the plane and
couldn’t remember your number.”

“She remembered your speed-dial number,” Johnny offered.

Ashe didn’t seem amused.  Johnny wondered if the
man even had a sense of humor. 

“I didn’t really like hearing about it on the news,”
Ashe continued.

“I didn’t really like being the news,” Suzi
responded.  “Honey, you know I didn’t purposely try to leave you
out.  It just all happened that way.  Then when you called, Johnny
just happened to be in the hotel lobby.  Besides, there was nothing you
could have done and that would have driven you crazy.”

“And you already had help,” he said, glancing at Johnny,
who was about to answer when Suzi stepped in.

“I love that you worry about me,
Ashie
,
but you know perfectly well that if I didn’t think Johnny was trustworthy, I
would have told him to take a hike.  Well, so to speak.  He’s Johnny
Winchester, the River Hunter…he doesn’t have much interest in anything else.”

The disarming smile spread across her face and Ashe
relaxed. 

“You might want to apologize for threatening to hunt him
down.”

An almost exact replica of Suzi’s smile broke his stern
expression.  Turning to Johnny, he admitted, “I guess I might have been a
little harsh.”

“I understand perfectly,” Johnny assured.  “You
didn’t know what had happened to your Mum and you had no idea who I was. 
I would have reacted the same way.”  Well, maybe not quite.

Antoinette and Aimmy had prepared dinner, so they set
the table and gathered everyone around.  Willow asked her dad if she could
say grace, to which he agreed, and in semi-articulate words set in
semi-complete sentences, she thanked Jesus for the food, for keeping her Gramma
safe, and for ‘that river guy.’  With all the germane subjects covered,
followed by amused smiles, dinner commenced along with small talk in which
Johnny engaged Ashe in one or two pleasant exchanges.  When dinner was
done, Ashe rose to clear the table and Johnny helped him remove the dishes and
put them in the dish washer.  They didn’t talk much, but at least Ashe didn’t
make any threats.

It wasn’t particularly late, but Suzi had had an
eventful day and, not only was the fatigue taking her over, the comfort of her
own bed called to her.  Expressing her happiness at seeing her family
members and her appreciation for dinner, she announced that she needed to get
to bed.   Unable to get herself out of the deep, overstuffed
recliner, Ashe rose to help her up.  Johnny checked his watch.

“Your medicine is still in my rucksack,” he said. 
“I’ll get it and bring you a glass of water.”

“Thanks,” she said as she shuffled down the hall to her
room.

The family exchanged glances as Johnny followed her with
prescriptions and a glass of water in hand.  Oblivious, Johnny stepped
into Suzi’s room, putting the water and meds on the nightstand, sitting on the
edge of the bed.  The bathroom door was closed, so he waited for her and,
when she came out in her PJ’s, he stood, pulled back the bedding and helped her
get settled.  Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, he handed her the
meds and water by turns until the antibiotics and the pain pills were all
consumed.

“Ashe is taking me to the airport early in the morning,
probably before you’re up,” he said.  It hadn’t really hit either of them
that this would be the last time they saw one another.

“Do you think you’ll live through it?” she teased.

“Ah!  I think we bonded over the dirty
dishes.  So I think we’re good.  Don’t you have another son?  No
one’s mentioned him.”

“That’s because he’s in the Himalayas.  Ashe
probably emailed him, but satellite coverage in the area is spotty.”

“What’s he doing in the Himalayas?”

“Searching for Yeti.  He usually looks for Bigfoot,
but he got funding for his team to go after Yeti.”

Johnny smiled slyly.  “The whole family has a sense
of adventure.”

She rolled her eyes.  “It seems to work out better
for the boys than me.”

“Perhaps.  But you’re safe now.”

 “Yes.  You’re leaving early?  So I may
not see you before you go.”

“Maybe not.”

The thought hung in the air, dividing them, pulling them
together.  Sincere gratitude prompted her to take his hand.

“I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done,” she
said, her deep blue eyes flooded with emotion.

“Just seeing you home and on the mend is enough for
me.”  This was going to be far more difficult than he’d thought.  “Will
your family stay for a bit to help you?”

“I don’t know how long Ashe and Aimmy will stay, but
Antoinette lives down the road, she’ll tend out on me.”

Johnny nodded.  “Good.  I’ve left you my email
address.  You’ll let me know how you’re
doing?

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”  She’d made a million decisions
that brought her to this moment.  Decisions to maintain her independence,
to prove to herself, and everyone around her, that she was master of her own
life, to go see the Alaskan tundra.  To prove that she didn’t need a
man.  And she didn’t need this man, either; but she sure wanted him. 
The memory of that morning she’d woken to him watching her washed over her, she
wished to wake so every morning.  The steady blue eyes, the dimples, the
compassion, the sharp wit.  His voice almost startled her.

“I’ll expect regular updates.”  The red-tailed
orange sturgeon didn’t seem very important at the moment.  Even though the
next episode was completely planned, he couldn’t remember what fish he’d be
hunting.  This woman stirred up emotions in him that he didn’t know he
could have, didn’t know anyone could have.  He’d heard people talk of
being in love, but he always thought it was exaggerated, or maybe just wishful
thinking.  It never occurred to him that it might be real.  That was
one reason he had chosen fishing all those years ago: he couldn’t imagine
loving anything more than angling, that those kinds of feelings even
existed.  But of one thing he was sure, they could not last and it was
best to say good-bye and walk away. 

“Will do,” she said.  “And you’ll let me know how
the fish hunting goes?”  This would never work.  She wanted him now,
but it wouldn’t last; she trusted him now, but he’d end up breaking that trust
as so many had before.  No, it was best to say good-bye and release him
back to his river.

It was easier thought than done.  Using every last
iota of her will, she withdrew her hand.  “I’m…”

“You’re tired,” Johnny finished as he stood. 
“Let’s get you settled.”

He helped her lie down and arrange the pillows to her
satisfaction.  Standing, he hesitated, then spoke.

“Goodnight,” he said softly.

“Goodnight.”

Turning, he walked through the door, closing it behind
him, but he couldn’t seem to make his feet move.  His heart wanted him to
go back, rational thought wanted him to go forward.  Finally, he squared
his shoulders and walked down the hall.  As he stepped into the living
room, he stopped short.  Suzi’s family was strewn about the room, they
were dead silent and all staring at him.  Puzzled, he looked from face to
face and then it dawned on him.

“What? I’ve been putting her to bed all week,” he
said.  The explanation didn’t seem to help.  “That didn’t come out
right,” he said quickly.  Johnny thought desperately about how to get his
foot out of his mouth, and avoid what looked for all the world like a lynch
mob.

Another
Brush with Death

Suzi was good to her word and emailed Johnny before the
first week was out.  Since he was in the middle of nowhere, and busy
angling, she didn’t expect to hear back from him right away, so the next
morning when she saw his name in bold letters in her inbox, she was surprised,
a little apprehensive, and excited.  She was going to have to get her emotions
under control.

So started an almost daily exchange of emails, the
subject of which was mostly updates on Suzi’s health and Johnny’s fish
hunt.  Both were progressing well.  Antoinette stopped by daily to
check on Suzi, bringing dinner with her for the first week; Johnny had a
glimpse of the red-tailed, orange sturgeon and had only to actually angle one.
 

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