“Of course, I’m okay.” Meg offered Farrow a smile. The more she got to know Farrow, the more Meg really liked her. They didn’t elaborate about what they were shopping for, but they didn’t have to. Meg knew Alik and Farrow went into the airport to pick up a few items she hadn’t thought to pack for the girl. Farrow had to have a few essential toiletries.
Evan offered to walk with Maze outside. The poor coyote was in desperate need of fresh air and a smooth patch of grass. The indoor doggie pads they had for him to use during the flight were just enough to make him mad. He yipped happily exiting the plane. Meg couldn’t help but smile at his joy.
Even though everyone had only been gone for twenty minutes, she found herself wringing her hands and pacing the aisle. She would stop periodically to close her eyes and focus on the foreign emotional signatures around the aircraft looking for any malevolence.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” a male voice called to her. Meg turned abruptly and watched Captain Jacobi wink reassuringly at her. “LAX is my turf. I know every one of the crew under this bird’s belly. They’re good people. Don’t fret, little lady. I’ll get you and your family to Dallas.”
She smiled at the older gentleman. It really was sweet of him to try to make her feel better.
She’d take his word for it a whole lot more if she hadn’t had to calm him down with her gift moments after they boarded the plane back on the Big Island.
Captain Jacobi had witnessed Paulie’s death and was severely shaken by it—rightfully so. But they needed him to fly, so Meg left the copilot in charge while she sat with Jacobi and mended his fractured psyche. She had never done that before. Good grief, all this was new to her, but she understood they needed him functioning and, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Meg hoped she didn’t overdo it in there. Jacobi seemed awfully relaxed and chipper.
Jacobi made a clicking sound with his tongue while winking and shooting a pretend gun at her before walking away. Meg shook her head, worried. Yeah, maybe I did overdo it.
From the back of the plane Meg heard someone call her name.
“Meg? Are you there?”
Smiling at the sound of his deepened voice, she walked back to see Cole. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she teased.
“Hey, you.” He smiled through a sleepy grin showcasing that sweet dimple in his cheek.
Meg giggled at his brown hair standing straight up, momentarily forgetting the possible dangers around them.
“What’s so funny?” Cole looked around himself.
“You are sporting some serious bed-head,” Meg laughed, reaching out to try to smooth the four inches of his thick hair defying gravity.
He grinned sheepishly and reached to run his large hands through his mane, only making it worse.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, hopping up to sit on what used to be Farrow’s gurney.
“Better. I needed that nap.”
Evan had removed his I.V. and allowed him to get dressed earlier. His wrinkled green T-shirt matched his eyes. Cole was always a handsome boy, but the infinite serum had morphed him into a strikingly gorgeous guy. His physique just seemed to keep redefining itself.
Meg hadn’t realized she was staring until Cole’s face started blushing red and he hopped off his gurney to busy his hands with folding his sheet.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“For what?” he asked, pretending nonchalance.
“For staring. You really have changed a lot. It’s like watching a butterfly work its way out of a chrysalis, fluttering its wet wings,” she marveled.
Cole shrugged in his aw-shucks-ma’am kind of way.
“I guess I was really lucky to have survived the serum,” he muttered.
“Yeah, you were.”
“I almost died, didn’t I?”
Meg blinked away the tears that sprang to her eyes. “Yeah, you did.”
“Dad told me you saved me.”
Now it was her turn to shrug.
“He said you used your evolved gift to help me.” Cole stopped fidgeting with the blanket he was folding and stared earnestly at Meg. She was studying her ragged cuticles.
“He said if you hadn’t done that, I may have died before we even made stateside. And that it hurts you to use your gift, but you did it anyway to try to save me,” Cole pressed.
Meg wished Dr. Andrews hadn’t mentioned that part. She hated looking weak to anyone. It was her turn to fidget, so she hopped off the gurney started straightening the wrinkles she just created there, intentionally turning her back to her friend.
“How did you know it would work, Meg? Why did you risk it?”
“What do you mean, why?” Meg felt a surge of defensiveness.
“You know what I mean,” he pushed.
“I didn’t know it would work. I wasn’t even trying at first. I was really mad at you, Cole Andrews.” She spun and glared up at Cole’s earnest face.
“I was sitting beside you, watching your blue lips and feeling your feverish forehead, and I was LIVID!”
Ah yes, Meg thought. I’m much more comfortable yelling than feeling weak and emotional all the time.
Cole just nodded, accepting her anger.