Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight) (3 page)

“Yeah.” Callie bit into the bagel, not sure why this topic was making her uncomfortable. “Until he gets Shelby off to college anyway,” she added through a mouthful of food.

Mary perked up in her chair, looking at Em again. They were practically having a telepathic conversation, but Callie wasn’t in the mood to decipher.

“That’d be August or even September, right?” Em asked, shuffling some papers on her desk.

“Yeah.”

“And I assume since he’s going back to Seattle in the fall he’s not working while he’s home?”

Callie closed her eyes. The food and drink were not helping at all and the headache drummed louder. “Would you two spit out whatever you’re planning so I can decide whether or not I need to warn Trevor.”

“Nothing to warn him about.” Em gave a dismissive wave. “We thought maybe he could help out around AIF. As a volunteer.”

Callie’s shoulders hunched up to her ears. The idea was a good one, but she inexplicably felt weird about it. “Trevor is clueless when it comes to planes.”

“Yeah, but he could run a mower, paint trim, and so on. All those little things we’re always struggling to make time for.”

All those things Callie had just been dreading. It would be nice to have someone around to take up the grunt work so they could focus on the important stuff. But Trevor? For some reason the idea of him underfoot day in and day out had her feeling a little unsure.

“Trevor’s mom just died. He’s trying to get Shelby graduated.”

“Yes, but Shelby still has two months of school and Trevor’s sitting around in that house by himself for most of the day.” For the first time, Em’s eyes met hers. As it always did, the bright blue depths reminded Callie of their father. A man Em could barely remember, and these days, it was getting harder and harder for Callie to remember clearly. But, she’d always remember those eyes.

Mary spoke into the silence. “We need help, Callie. And Lawson, well…” Mary trailed off again, sharing Callie’s pessimism about the last Baker grandchild returning to his rightful place.

“Lawson will come home,” Em interjected with a determined nod. “He’s working on full custody right now, and then Sue can’t keep him from moving back.”

This time it was Callie and Mary who exchanged looks. Callie figured Mary was thinking the same thing she was.
I’ve heard that before
.

“In the meantime, though,” Em continued, not meeting either skeptical look, “Trevor would be a tremendous help.”

“What makes you think he’ll agree to volunteer to be our grunt worker?”

“You.” Em smiled sweetly. “You could convince Trevor to do just about anything.”

Callie scoffed and shoved the rest of her bagel into her mouth.

“Oh, come on. That boy’d do anything for you, and you know it.”

Callie swallowed, tried to ignore the way the unease was building, settling in her gut like a hard, tense rock. “Hardly.”

“Remember in high school when he convinced Mr. Martin you weren’t cheating on that test? Or when he broke Frank Winston’s nose after…” Em trailed off, wisely choosing not to finish that thought.

Callie couldn’t stop from finishing the thought in her head, though. Trevor had broken Frank Winston’s nose after Frank had convinced her to have sex with him only days after her grandmother’s funeral and then dumped her five minutes after he’d taken her virginity. And, like an idiot, she’d whined to Trevor about it and he’d had to get up on his white horse.

“What about when he was working for County and you got in that bar fight with Sheila Evans and he convinced everyone involved not to press charges?”

“Or—”

“I get the picture.” Callie held up a hand in hopes they would stop rehashing the litany of ways Trevor had saved her ass over the years. “First of all, I want to point out that the fight with Sheila was in no way my fault. Second, don’t all those events illustrate that maybe I shouldn’t manipulate a guy who’s done a lot for me into mowing our grass and hauling our trash?”

Em let out a lengthy sigh. “In another lifetime, maybe. In this lifetime, we need to manipulate anyone we can.”

It wasn’t often Em let enough realism in to admit that. Dejection infiltrated the room, weighing on all of their shoulders.

Callie looked from Em’s sad expression to Mary’s disconcerted frown and made a particular effort to smile and lighten the mood. “Adding a guy to this trio of female awesomeness might be a problem.”

Buoyed, Em laughed. “True, it might upset the delicate balance of kick-butt estrogen, but I’m afraid we might need some testosterone around here.”

Callie snorted. “Please. We do not need a man’s help.”

“Okay, it doesn’t have to be testosterone,” Em amended equitably. “But we definitely need help of any variety. I don’t really care where Trevor falls in terms of gender. I just know we need his help.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.” Callie hunched her shoulders again at the thought of asking Trevor for yet another favor in a lifetime of favors. “But if he says no—”

“You’ll have to find a way to make him say yes,” Mary finished. “Maybe you could seduce him.”

“Mary!”

“What?” She smiled, wiggling her graying eyebrows. “Might be a fun way to help out good old AIF.”

“So much for girl power,” Callie muttered. As if seducing Trevor would ever work. And if it would? Callie shook her head. She was losing her mind. “I’ve got to take a shower. I’d like to get my to-do list done before sundown so I can get some work done on the Stearman.”

“You really think you’ll have it ready by the fly-in?”

“I better. Best chance to sell it.”

Em chewed her lip. “Callie, we don’t have to sell it. You and Dad both soloed—”

Callie held up her hand. “Once I get it running again, we’re selling it. Think what we could do with the money.”

“But—”

“I’m going to grab a shower. I’ll call Trevor this afternoon and see what he’s up for. Later, ladies.”

End of discussion. She’d already made her peace with selling a plane that held so much sentiment. One plane was no match for all of AIF.

Em followed her out onto the porch.

“Leave me alone, Em.”

“This isn’t about the plane.” Em followed Callie’s hurried stride away from the library. “It’s about Billie’s wedding.”

“I don’t give two shits about Billie’s wedding. She’s your friend. Not mine.”

“I know, but I thought I’d warn you. Frank’s a groomsman. The groomsman I’m paired up with.”

Callie stopped short, her stomach pitching. “You can’t be serious.”

“I know Frank’s a total jackass for what he did to you, but it was a long time ago. I don’t want you to get all riled up about this. It’s one night, one little walk down an aisle. No big deal, but I didn’t want someone blabbing it around in town like it was, especially since it’s three months away.”

Frank Winston would not be putting his hands anywhere near her sister. In three months or in three years, but Callie had other things to focus on at the moment. She managed her best reassuring smile and patted Em on the arm. “No big deal, sis.”

Em’s worried frown deepened. “I know there’s going to be trouble whenever you call me sis.”

Callie couldn’t fight a wicked grin. “I guess we’ll find out in three months. Right now, I have got to get in the shower.”

Trevor pulled into the lot of AIF not quite sure what he was going to accomplish. He’d spent the entire day trying to maneuver around Shelby’s unpredictable outbursts of tears. He didn’t even have to say anything and she’d start crying.

It made sense a teenage girl would be prone to emotional outbursts after losing her mom. Trevor just wished he knew what to do about them. Especially when she would go on and on about how good it was to have him home. Where he belonged.

Why couldn’t Shelby see he didn’t belong in Pilot’s Point? He belonged at work. Where women didn’t cry all over him looking for comfort or expect him to know what to do when a boy called the house asking for his sister. He’d rather face a man with a gun.

He was grasping at straws by asking for Callie’s help, but at least if she failed too he’d have someone to commiserate with.

He parked outside the metal building of Callie’s shop, knowing she’d be there despite the workday being over. The sun was beginning to set and the air was beginning to cool. It was nice to be out of the house, to be outside, to be somewhere that didn’t remind him of his parents.

The fields of green grass at AIF reminded him of summer as a kid. AIF would always remind him of those carefree days before life had gotten so complicated.

Trevor stepped up to the threshold of the shop. The door was open and he peeked inside. Callie was on a stepladder bent over a large, black engine of some sort. Though she faced him, her gaze was so intent on the plane, she didn’t notice his presence.

She looked peaceful, which wasn’t a common look for Callie. She’d looked so sad last night when she’d talked about AIF’s possible future, and though he understood how much AIF meant to her, seeing her in a rare moment of peaceful fulfillment reminded him of exactly that and of how much she had already lost.

It didn’t seem right to show up asking for a favor when she had so much on her hands already. Maybe he could figure out a way to deal with Shelby on his own.

He thought of Shelby’s tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt over lunch. Okay, no, he couldn’t do it on his own.

Em’s sunny, soothing voice broke through Trevor’s thoughts. She was standing off to the side with her back to him, talking to Callie. Callie’s face was intent on the engine as she worked to screw something in. They didn’t seem to realize he was in the doorway, and for some reason he didn’t speak up. Instead he watched the two half-sisters talk.

They were a clichéd image of dark and light. Em with her blonde curls and blue eyes. She was shorter and rounder than Callie. A feminine contrast in a floral, floaty skirt and pink fussy top, to Callie who wore jeans and a black T-shirt liberally smudged with grease along with her forearms and face.

Then there was demeanor. Em was calm and elegant grace—kind, sweet, thoughtful. He’d never met anyone who didn’t like Emerson Baker, or anyone who wasn’t surprised over her and Callie sharing a father.

“I’m just saying my da—Tom could talk to Dana on our behalf,” Em said, standing in the middle of the greasy chaos of the shop looking pristine and untouched.

Trevor watched Callie’s face. The peace melted away into resentment, presumably over the fact Em called her stepfather dad.

“I don’t need Tom or anyone to intervene. I can handle it. I have another meeting with her tomorrow. I’ll get it figured out.”

“Callie, please don’t be upset over this. I’m trying to do what’s best. We have to get this permit.”

Callie’s mouth hardened into a thin line, her gaze glued to the engine in front of her. Her muscles tensed as she worked with something difficult. “I know.”

Since Trevor didn’t know what they were talking about, he tuned the rest of their conversation out and watched Callie. There was a kind of grim focus he found ridiculously appealing. As much as Em and Callie were contradictions, Callie was a contradiction herself. Those hard lines softened by round curves, masculine work somehow made alluring because she was doing it.

Either it was about ninety degrees hotter in the shop than it was outside or emotional distress was no match for his hormones.

He’d only been home for a week and already the next six months seemed like forever. And it wasn’t just busybody neighbors, crying sisters and nothing to do that was getting to him.

It was new Callie. There had always been reasons to ignore his attraction to old Callie. She was too wild, too unpredictable, but mostly, Callie Baker had always scared him. All those repressed hurts and desperate attempts at masking pain. He’d never known what to do with it all except help when she got in trouble, or ride out the storm by her side as she tried to transform her grief into something else.

Getting closer always seemed too much of a risk, and he preferred to take his risks when he was legally authorized to carry an assault rifle and wear a bulletproof vest.

But new Callie wasn’t quite as scary, and that was a problem. Because whether she had finally healed or not, getting mixed up in some fulfillment of teenage fantasy would only make things more complicated when he had to leave.

“Going to stand there staring all night?” Callie called out, not bothering to look up.

Em turned, her confusion quickly turning into a warm smile. “Trevor. We didn’t see you there.” She crossed over to him, resting her hand on his arm. “How are you doing?”

Trevor watched as Callie rolled her eyes. New Callie still wasn’t perfect. Thank God for that.

“I’m doing all right. Thanks for asking. And thanks for the casseroles. Shelby mentioned you and your mom have been keeping her fed the past few weeks. It means a lot to us.”

“No problem. How is Shelby?”

Trevor looked up at Callie, thought about the reason for his visit. “She’s got a lot to deal with.”

Em nodded sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if I can help with more than just food. I’d be glad to.”