Chapter Two

Twelve Months Later

Nathan Alexander tracked North in his light aircraft.

“All stations Port Macquarie. Whisky, Tango, Foxtrot. Five nautical miles, inbound. Piper joining downwind for runway twenty-one for full stop landing.”

He maintained altitude of 1.000 feet, lowered the wheels, the first stage flaps, and then decreased speed before carrying out pre-landing checks.

The aircraft glided above the Hastings River, its wings slicing through the clear, summer sky. Below, houses and acres of properties stretched far along the river. A maze of estuaries branched in all directions with mangroves and oyster beds lurking on the edge of the murky shallows.

“All stations Port Macquarie. Whisky, Tango, Foxtrot. Piper turning base for runway twenty-one.” He checked the air sock, lowered the third stage flaps, dropped the nose of the aircraft, and closed the throttle in preparation of touchdown.

The blur of a white cap attached to a slender body raced across the airstrip in front of him. He slammed the throttle forward, gaining speed. With a quick check of the air space, he yanked the control column back, pointed the nose of the aircraft upward, and soared away from the airstrip. Luckily, at that time of the morning, the airspace was relatively free of other aircrafts.

“All Stations Port Macquarie. Whisky, Tango, Foxtrot, re-joining circuit. There’s a woman on the runway. Bloody hell, where did she come from?”

“Control tower, Port Macquarie, Whisky, Tango, Foxtrot. All clear.”

After rejoining circuit, he descended over a canopy of gum trees, landed on the runway, and taxied toward the hangars in the distance.

Unlocking the hatch, he climbed out and hesitated. The warm, humid air rushed to his face as he sucked back a breath. He rubbed his right thumb over the stubble on his chin. The woman wasn’t in sight, and the only sound he heard was the eerie whistling of wind as it lashed against the metal structure of the hangars. He slid the hangar door opened and climbed back into the cockpit, easing his aircraft undercover. With a brief scribble in his logbook, he recovered his jacket, briefcase, and a suitcase from the luggage compartment. On his way out, he closed the hangar and locked it behind him.

He caught a glimpse of a woman wearing a white cap disappearing into a hangar further down. He was positive it was the same woman on the runway. Taking long strides, he approached. Stopping by the door, his gaze zeroed in on a cute bottom wiggling from side to side as it protruded from the door of a light aircraft. She was cleaning the inside of the cockpit.

“Hello,” he called on approach.

The woman turned. “Can I help you?”

A pair of denim overalls and a white T-shirt clung to feminine curves. Grime smudged from cheeks to chin, highlighting big, blue eyes.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I beg your pardon?” She stared at him as though he’d just spoken in a foreign language.

“I assume you have a legitimate reason for being on the runway? I was flying that Piper you obviously didn’t see.”

Her gaze remained unyielding, like the surface on an airstrip.

“I don’t want to get you into trouble with your employer, but what were you doing on the runway? You put us both in danger. Do you realize I could have injured or perhaps killed you? I think it would be a restricted area for a cleaner.”

She gave him a slow, unappreciative, sweeping gaze.

The color of her eyes resembled a perfect, cloudless day, but they flicked in all directions, as though she hadn’t listened to a single word he had spoken. His thoughts vanished for a few moments. He swallowed, forcing the muscles in his throat to contract.

“Your name?” She stepped onto the footstep before jumping to the ground and landed at arm’s length, standing a little lower than his six foot stature.

“The name’s Nathan Alexander.” He extended his hand.

Long, dark lashes blinked quickly, and she twisted one side of her face to reveal a cute dimple in her cheek. She slipped a cream, canvas glove from her right hand and produced long, shiny, manicured nails.

It had been years since he’d had contact with such soft skin, and her fragrance was like a summer shower after a long, hot day—the scent billowing from a tarmac.

Her gaze trailed up to meet his. For a moment, it was as though they were summing each other up. Breaking from contact, she rubbed a finger over the corner of one eye.

“In answer to your question, I was rescuing a black kitten, and a good pilot could have swerved around me without any difficulty whatsoever. I don’t see your problem.”

“You could have been seriously injured. I could have killed you.”

“It wasn’t as though you were flying a jumbo.” She pulled that quirky facial feature once again. “Besides, if you don’t tell, no one will ever know. Will they?”

Nathan recognized the tremor in her voice and noticed the stance she displayed with her feet set firmly apart, appearing as though she was guarding something or someone.

This must be one of the worst circumstances to meet a woman, but it was much better than clipping her with the wing of his aircraft or possibly flattening her with the landing gear.

Her words “good pilot” repeated once in his mind. Well, perhaps a few times. Good pilot…she doesn’t know what she’s saying. What would a cleaner know? The best flight instructor that had ever lived taught him to fly. He’d spent hours with Bob Berg, who made sure he was competent and if the worse scenario arose, he was adept to handle it.

* * * *

Catherine’s fingers curled against a tingling circle of warmth that had settled into the palm of her hand. Aware her heart had started beating just that little bit faster, she tried to slow its pace by taking slow, deep breaths.

This man stood tall and proud, with a solid, powerful frame suggesting he was serious, although he spoke gibberish. He may have a thick crop of dark hair and eyes that put sea green to shame, but she wasn’t going to allow her emotions to slide so readily. She couldn’t face any more disasters in her life. Not now, not ever.

“You should be a little more careful.”

“Me? Ha. You should have seen me on your approach. I don’t see your problem.”

“I came in here for your own benefit, to warn you to be more careful.”

Catherine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “First, I am not a cleaner, and I think you’ve left your wings in the air. It’s clear you’re a little traumatized by the incident.” She flung one hand on her hip and adjusted her balance. “And as for warning me, I think you should just look after yourself.”

“Be a little more careful in the future. The airstrip is not a place to take a casual stroll.”

The sound of a kitten meowing shifted her attention. “Oh. You’ve finished your milk, you poor little darling.” She walked toward the black kitten and swept it into her arms. Then, she muttered cat talk and ran her fingers through its fur.

* * * *

Her icy welcome was unexpected, and she’d continued to give him that strange look as though he had told her a lie and she’d just found him out, but he couldn’t erase the digital imprint of her eyes from his mind. They were haunting pools of sadness, and that white cap concealed every minuscule strand of hair she possessed. Blonde came to mind. He shook his head. His stomach clenched as realization hit him in one quick, hard whack. The muscles in his jaw squared. “Hell.” He let go of a breath and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

She lifted her head. “Are you okay?”

“Catherine.” Her name choked up his throat. “Catherine, is that you?”

Apprehension filled her eyes, but she didn’t answer.

It seemed as though a mysterious curtain blanketed anything relating to the Catherine Berg he once knew. The last time he saw Catherine, her eyes held an innocent sparkle brimming with enthusiasm for life. Heat surfaced over his face. He wanted a closer observation, wanted to make sure he hadn’t been mistaken.

She put the kitten down and snapped upright, facing him.

“I thought you said you were going to attend to business?”

“That’s correct. Could you tell me the whereabouts of Bob Berg’s daughter, Catherine Berg?”

“What do you want to see her about?”

“I need to speak to her about Airways.”

“Well, I don’t think she needs to see you about anything.”

“Seeing as you’re an employee of this company, you have an obligation to answer my question.”

“An obligation? Why should I give you any information?”

“I own part of this company.”

Catherine gawked with disbelief. “What?” Her lips parted.

“As I stated, I need to see Catherine Berg.”

“I’m...I’m Catherine Berg,” she mouthed, her words barely audible.

“I should have recognized you.”

“I beg your pardon? What business do you have with me?”

“Seeing as I have inherited half of Macquarie Airways, I wanted to see if you were interested in selling your share. I’m considering perhaps full ownership. Apparently, it’s a bit run down since the old man died. I have to find out a few more details before I make a final decision.”

“Old man! My father wasn’t old. He was fifty-one years young when he died and loved very much.”

“Sorry. It wasn’t meant to sound like that...old man is just a saying.” What did he do, now? “Bob, your father, used to laugh when I called him an ‘old man.’ It’s just a harmless word, a joke we shared between us.”

“Joke or not, he wasn’t old.”

“As I said, I’m sorry...Surely you remember me.” He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

She took two steps backward. “Don’t make out like you know me. I’ve never met you in my life.”

He stepped closer, but she continued to slide backward, trying to put reasonable space between them until her back rammed against the cold metal of an aircraft.

She stretched one arm out in front of her, palm upright. “That’s close enough, buster.”

“The name’s Nathan, not buster.”

“I don’t know you, so back off.”

“Don’t play games.”

“I’m not playing games.”

“I get it. You mean to say you prefer not to know me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you remember us, Catherine?” He couldn’t believe she had no memory of him. Was he that easily erased? It had been a while, but he had never forgotten that summer. Never forgotten the way the sunshine spoke the true colors of her hair, or her laughter that dissolved every cloud from the sky.

“Just what sort of scheme are you up to? Don’t think you’re going to sneak your way in to try and gain control over Macquarie Airways.”

“It’s not a scheme. Your father left me half of the business.”

“I...I know he left half to a friend. You’re Nathan Alexander?” Her startled, high-pitched voice put him on edge.

“Yes...here.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and dug out his wallet. “Here.” He flipped it opened and faced it toward her, displaying a photographic license.

Catherine craned her neck forward and stared at his name. “I believe you. As for purchasing the other half, it’s not for sale and never will be. I’m wondering why Dad left you—a complete stranger—half of my business. I mean our…his…Dad always said this business would be mine.”

“I can’t help what Bob wanted or what he left to whom.”

“It’s obvious you were never close to him; otherwise, you would have attended his funeral. It’s been over twelve months. Why have you decided to make an appearance now?”

“I couldn’t leave Sydney. I had personal matters to take care of.”

“It must have been pretty serious stuff to keep you away for a whole year.”

“Well...yes, it was. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you when I first walked in, but with all that.” He lifted his right hand and gestured toward her face. “All that grime on your face.”

She grabbed a cloth sitting on the wing of the aircraft and started wiping her cheeks.

“As for your father’s funeral, I’m sorry.”

“That just proves how close you were to him, doesn’t it? One thing. Don’t get in my way, and I won’t get in yours. I work elsewhere on the weekends and here three days a week. If you have any questions, you can ask Adam O’Brien. He takes care of the business side of things. My father’s will, everything. He’s an excellent lawyer.”

She tossed the cloth onto the wing of the aircraft with irritation and walked toward a door in the corner of the hangar. When she returned, she was holding a small, white card. With a snap of her wrist, she flicked it toward him. “Here.”

Nathan reached for the card. “Thank you...I’ve spoken to Adam on the phone. Haven’t you considered someone to help you?”

“I have already been approached by many people telling me they know what’s right for me or what I should do. I assure you I don’t need any help.” Spinning on one foot, she headed into the office.

* * * *

Catherine’s reality crashed, tumbling like the dark clouds hanging in her mind. She’d finally come to terms with her father’s death and her car accident, although that part of her memory was even more stubborn than she. It refused to allow access, refused to let her remember. Her heart thudded much too fast for her liking. Just when she thought she was getting a grip on life, a stranger now threatened to pull away the rope. Her chest grew tighter, and her perception of the unknown escalated. As if things weren’t difficult enough, Nathan Alexander’s presence was going to be a force to deal with.

For the last eight months, she’d put so much work into this business, she had to relearn her life. Relearn the business side of Airways. Now, a stranger pranced in and threatened to take everything away—everything she’d tried so darn hard to rescue. Trying to keep Airways up and running hadn’t been easy. It was seeing red, and even the profits from her business, the Cruise Cat, hadn’t been enough to compensate.

Now, after meeting one of her father’s so-called friends, her supposed business partner set her nerves alight. It wasn’t often a handsome stranger walked into her hangar—especially one who had dropped a bomb in her lap—although his presence at Macquarie Airways warranted caution.

He stated he wanted to buy the rest of the company. What for? Just who is he? Being an old friend of her father’s didn’t justify his reason or any reason for that matter. Although she knew he couldn’t buy her share without her approval, something put her on edge, and she remained there.

Surely he realized she grew up here, that she had a right to be here, to run the place. Her memories were here, that is if she ever found them again. There would be memories of her mother and father. She needed to stay close by, needed this place as a security blanket. She needed it to help her remember, and she wasn’t about to allow Nathan Alexander any leeway. She struggled to breathe as though reality had just dropped a dead weight on her shoulders—the pressure slowly filling her limbs.

A nervous giggle escaped her throat. Imagine the guy trying to fool her by saying they knew each other, that they had been close. How many men had called in over the last few months stating they knew her, that they were friends? They all wanted a piece of the action. After everything she’d done to understand what her life was like before the accident, she wasn’t willing to give anyone a free ride. She wondered how many more men would prance in and take advantage of her failing memory.

As for Nathan Alexander, his comment was purely an attack on her intelligence, and she wasn’t going to allow another male to try to interfere with how she operated. Life was difficult enough without having some flying idiot prancing in there, thinking he knows what’s best.

Over her dead body!