The Invitation (Montgomery/Taggert 19) - Page 1

Chapter One

1934

Jackie was flying a plane, so Jackie was happy.

Soaring high, catching the breezes, winking at the setting sun, Jackie stretched and the plane stretched. Jackie moved and the plane moved. As though the body of the plane were a second skin to her, she could move the airplane as easily as she moved her arm or her leg. Smiling, she dipped one wing downward to look at the beautiful high mountain desert of Colorado.

At first she didn’t believe what she saw. Sitting in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest road, was a car. Thinking that the vehicle had been abandoned, she turned her plane, dipping the wings, turning on a dime, to backtrack to have a second look. The car hadn’t been there yesterday, so perhaps someone needed help.

She swooped down as low as she dared, not that the piñon trees, rarely over twenty feet tall, were going to interfere with the height she needed to stay aloft. As she came back for a second pass she saw a man stand up from the shade of the car and raise his arm in greeting. Smiling, she turned her plane back toward her home base. He was all right, then, and as soon as she landed at her airstrip in Eternity, she’d call the sheriff to send the stranded traveler some help.

She was chuckling to herself. Travelers often were stranded in Colorado. They looked at the flat landscape off the side of the road and decided to see nature up close. But they didn’t take into consideration the thorns as large as a man’s little finger and rocks whose sharpness had not been worn away by heavy yearly rainfall.

Maybe it was because she was laughing and not watching what she was doing that she didn’t see the bird, as big as a lamb, that flew straight into her propeller. She doubted that she could have avoided hitting it, but she would have tried. As it was, everything happened very quickly. One minute she was flying toward home and the next minute there were feathers and blood all over her goggles and the plane was going down.

Jackie was a good pilot, one of the best in America. She’d certainly had a great deal of training, having received her license at eighteen years of age, and now, at thirty-eight, she was an old hand. But coping with this bird took all of her knowledge and skill. As the engine began to sputter, she knew she was going to have to do a dead-stick landing, a landing without power. Quickly, tearing off her goggles so she could see, she looked about for a place to set it down. She needed a wide, long clearing, someplace free of trees and rocks that could tear the wings off the plane.

The old road to the ghost town of Eternity offered the only possibility. She didn’t know what had grown or rolled across the road in the many years that it hadn’t been used, but she had no

other choice. Within the flash of an eye, she lined up the nose to the “runway” and started down. There was a boulder blocking the road—it had probably rolled down during the spring thaw—and she was praying to stop the plane before she hit the enormous rock.

Luck wasn’t with her, for she plowed into the rock. As she crashed, she could hear the sickening crunch of her propeller being destroyed. She didn’t think anymore. Her head flew forward, hitting the stick; she was out cold.

The next thing Jackie knew, she was being held in a pair of very strong, masculine arms and carried away from the plane. “Are you my rescuing knight?” she asked dreamily. She could feel something warm running down her face. When she put up her hand to wipe it away, she thought she saw blood, but her eyes weren’t functioning properly and the daylight was fading fast.

“Am I badly hurt?” she asked, knowing the man wouldn’t tell her the truth. She’d seen a couple of men mangled in airplane wrecks, and as they lay dying everyone had reassured them that tomorrow they’d be fine.

“I don’t think so,” the man said. “I think you just bumped your head, cracked it a bit.”

“Oh, well, then, I’ll be okay. Nobody’s head is harder than mine.” He was still carrying her, but her weight didn’t seem to bother him at all. As best she could, considering how dizzy she felt, she pulled her head back to look at him. In the fading light he looked great, but then, Jackie reminded herself, she’d just cracked her skull in a plane wreck. For all she knew, he had three heads and six eyes. No one could be so lucky as to crash in the middle of acres of nothing and find a handsome man to rescue her.

“Who are you?” she asked thickly, because all of a sudden she felt very sleepy.

“William Montgomery,” he answered.

“A Montgomery from Chandler?” When he said yes, Jackie snuggled against his wide, broad chest and sighed happily. At least she didn’t have to worry about his intentions. If he was a Chandler Montgomery then he was honorable and fair and would never take advantage of the situation; Montgomerys were as honest and trustworthy as the day was long.

More’s the pity, she thought.

When they were some distance from the plane, near his car, which she could just make out in the dim light, he gently set her on the ground. Cupping her chin in his hand, he looked into her eyes. “I want you to stay here and wait for me. I’m going to get some blankets from the car, then build a fire. When you don’t show up at the airfield, will anyone come looking for you?”


Tags: Jude Deveraux Montgomery/Taggert Historical
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