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the plane. His jaw tensed as he fought to keep it straight, fought to keep the plane from going nose
first into the ground.
He sent a silent prayer for his mom and Bram as the trees began to claw at the wings. The
wrenching, screeching sound of metal tearing roared through the amplified pounding in his ears as
the wings collapsed, stripped like feathers from their welds. When the Cessna hit the ground, the
sound echoed for miles around. The silence that followed was long and deafening, but no one heard it.
* * * *
“Selene, have you heard from Mitch?” Bram stood next to her at the kitchen counter as they
worked together on dinner.
32
She offered a light frown over her shoulder, but shook her head. “No, he left about eight-thirty to
go fly.”
“I wonder when he was planning on returning,” Bram said. He glanced for at least the fifth time at
his wristwatch in the last hour. It was well after five. “It’ll be dark soon. Surely he’s still not out there,”
he said more to comfort himself than as a logical statement. Bram knew if Mitch could have, he’d be
home. It wasn’t like him to disappear for the day when there was nowhere to go. Bend was nothing
like St. Louis. A knot in his stomach told him he wasn’t worrying for nothing.
“Why don’t you call the rental place? Maybe he’s back, just not here.” Selene heated the pan for
dinner. Well, for his dinner anyway. There wasn’t anyway he could eat steaks as rare as she did.
He nodded in agreement, turning to search for the number in the phone book. Bram waited for
someone to answer, tapping his fingers on his elbow as he stared out the window to the front clearing.
His brother’s Jeep wasn’t out there.
“Yeah, hi,” he started when they picked up at the rental offices. “I’m looking for Mitch Benedetti.
He had a Cessna reserved for today.”
Bram’s worry sharpened as the other man began speaking in a belligerent tone. “Benedetti. Yeah,
he was supposed to be back by one. I need to close up.”
“At one,” Bram repeated, feeling something cold slam into his stomach. “Has he called in or
anything?”
Bram heard the man shuffle on the other end, losing the gruff undertone, if not the impatience.
“The plane was in working order. I had a mechanic on it yesterday, but the radio was acting up.”
There was embarrassed apology for the lapse, not that it helped Bram at the moment.
“I see. Did he give you a flight path?” Bram asked willing a calm. It didn’t last.
“North, said he wanted to check out the scorches from the fires he was here for a few months
back.”
“But those are nearly forty-five miles away!” Bram shouted.
“Hey, he’s the one who’s late! Don’t get pissed at me, mac.” The other man reminded him, “It’s my
plane.”
“And he’s my brother!” Bram enunciated. He hung up before he growled something foul. He
usually didn’t feel the need for it. This time he did.
He turned with a rock in his stomach the size of a dinner plate and locked onto Selene’s worried
gaze. “He’s missing.” Bram was positive of it. The feeling in his gut was far too real to ignore. Mitch
did not just disappear.
“Call Morgan. He’s the best.” Bram didn’t hesitate as he dialed his brother-in-law.
* * * *
Mitch groaned, the rough sound hoarse and loud. He was breathing. He was alive! The thrill was
short-lived. He hurt all over the damned place! His pounding head pressed lopsided to the control
panel where the landing had thrown him. At least he wasn’t upside down. Bleary eyes cracked, unable
to miss the harsh pull of dried blood on his forehead as he shifted, trying to focus. He groaned again,
wiggling his toes. Felt like he had all of those. He counted his fingers. Good to go. He closed his eyes
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