Unintended Love: A contemporary romantic novella (3 page)

Her mother was silent for a moment; she’d taken a sip of coffee and looked out the window, then she’d looked at Melanie with sad eyes.

“I understand you better than you think,” she’d begun, “It’s not that you couldn’t love again. You’re afraid to love the kind of man you are attracted to. Risk-takers like your father and Sam.”

When Melanie began to object, her mother had held up her hand.

“Let me finish. I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. After your father was killed, I wrapped myself in a cocoon, and I didn’t let any man in close enough to love me. I didn’t want to love someone and then lose them, Melanie. But it’s been hard to be alone, and there was one man I pushed away that I think I could have loved. Now, I’m getting older, and I don’t know if I’ll have any more chances at love.”

“I’m sorry, mom,” Melanie said. She’d felt a quiet sadness in response to her mother’s admissions.

Then her mother had shaken her head. “Don’t be sorry for me. I had many wonderful years with your father. And, I have you. And who knows what life has in store for me?” She’d smiled. “I’m still pretty cute.”

Melanie had been too stunned to say much during that breakfast. She’d never thought of her mother as unhappy, or lonely, and she had a new perspective on this woman who’d sat across from her in the sunny kitchen, cheerfully reading the small island’s weekly newspaper. She had always been just her mother, the person who was always there for her.

She’d studied the woman she resembled so much.

They had the same small frame, delicate features, and thick, wavy, almost black hair. Their mouths were the same, featuring full lips and smiles that changed their faces from simply good bones and attractive, to lit with life and dazzling. Her mother’s hair was weaved with a few strands of grey, and her eyes were blue and laughing, while Melanie’s were dark the color of black coffee, and sometimes brooding. Her eyes were like her father’s.

Her father had died on the job in a wildfire eleven years earlier when Melanie was only fifteen, and her mother, she’d realized suddenly, was only thirty-five.

She had never wondered why her mother never got involved with anyone after her father’s death. As a child, her parent’s marriage had always seemed perfect, and she’d just assumed no one could ever replace her father.

Even now, it was hard to imagine. She saw now how lonely her mother had been all these years. Another man may have helped fill that empty space, which she knew from her own experience, must be in her mother’s heart.

But as she’d sat there in her mother’s kitchen that day, she hadn’t thought her mother’s argument, or warning, made much sense. After all, if she married Martin, how was that the same mistake as her mother not getting involved with a man she’d thought she might love? One of the reasons she’d been seriously thinking she might accept Martin’s proposal, was that she didn’t want to be alone.

Her mother’s words had nagged at her though and Melanie didn’t bring up Martin, or her possible engagement, for the rest of her time there.

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B
y the time they reached the plane, Melanie’s mouth felt like a desert and her feet were hot and bruised from treading over the rough terrain. Even Alex looked a bit worn.

The plane itself was very bent, but still in one piece. Its engine had apparently been on fire, but the smoke had mostly dissipated, leaving a gassy, oily stench that for the last quarter of a mile, had led them to the crash site.

Alex moved his hand absently over the wing, looking forlorn.

“Sorry about your plane.”

He sighed. “Thanks.”

The plane was crumpled in such a way that it was not possible to use it as any form of shelter. However, Alex managed to pry open the door and pull himself inside. Soon, he was tossing things out.

Melanie ran forward when he held out her purse. “Oh, good! I have a bottle of water in here!”

There were a lot of useful things in the plane. There was Melanie’s overnight bag, and Alex had a duffel bag. He handed her a heavy plastic bin filled with emergency supplies and food, flares, a first aid kit, a sleeping bag and even a small pillow. She was impressed with how prepared he’d been.

When he crawled out, there were beads of sweat across his forehead from the trapped heat inside, so she handed him her water bottle watching in amazement as he downed it in one long gulp. Then he lifted his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and she couldn’t help but notice the tan, flat stomach, and the abdominal muscles that were carved out of the same piece of granite as his back. Her eyes widened in appreciation.

When he saw her expression, Alex grinned and pointed to the plastic bin. “It’s okay; there is more water with the emergency supplies.”

Grateful that he’d misunderstood her expression, she unsnapped the top of the bin, sighing deeply when she saw the case of bottled water and the wide variety of packaged foods. For the first time since the plane’s engine had made that funny noise, she began to relax. She took a bottle of water, twisted off the cap and drank deeply. As her body rehydrated, she began to feel more hopeful.

“Feel better?”

Alex seemed to be studying her. He sat a few feet away, resting in the shade, and his back against a tree trunk. Melanie brought her water, and sat near with her legs crossed.

“I do feel better. How long do you think it will be before we’re rescued?” She smiled into his eyes, until she realized that he looked worried. “What is it?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, and smiled back weakly. Melanie noticed suddenly, that his white t-shirt read Al’s Aviation in blue letters right over his heart. Glancing over at the plane, she saw the same design with his name, painted on the side. She felt a little embarrassed, remembering his surprise when she’d asked his name. Alex followed her eyes to the plane.

“I don’t know why the engine malfunctioned. I guess the good news is that we have some supplies, about enough water for three or four days, if we’re careful, and enough food for, well as long as we make it last- but no more than a week. But I don’t think the tracking devise is working, and the radio was destroyed.”

“That is bad news,” she said.

“But, we should be rescued. I had a flight plan and when we don’t show up...They’re probably already searching,” he said. He sounded almost hopeful.

“Do you think they’ll see the plane?” she asked.

It was a good question as the wreck was surrounded, and from the air would be partially hidden, by large fir trees.

“I think so- the problem is that there’s so much area to search.” He stopped for a moment as if he was searching for the right words. “Melanie, I’m sorry. Maybe if I had kept trying to reach someone, we’d be found already.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked. 

“When no one answered, I had to focus on bailing out of the plane,” he said. “I didn’t have time.”

For some reason, one that she didn’t understand right then, Melanie’s eyes filled with tears. She tried to swallow them back, but one spilled over and ran down her cheek. Alex stared at her for a moment, then leaned forward, took her hand and cupped it into both of his. “I’m really sorry,” he said quietly.

“Stop.”

She pulled her hand free, and gave his shoulder a gentle push. “You’re making me cry, and I hate that! Don’t you know that you saved my life? And I wasn’t really in the mood to die today; I’m very, very grateful.”

As her words seemed to have some effect, in that he was now looking at her intently with a slight upturn to one corner of his mouth, she went on. She grinned through her tears.

“You’re my hero. You saved my life.” She looked at all of the supplies piled up. “And we have food, water and shelter.”

Melanie wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

She was tempted to laugh at the whole
my hero
bit. It wasn’t really her style, but, she realized, she really did feel sincere. He was her hero, and she felt grateful.

“And I have something in my bag that will cheer us both up.”

She stood up, wincing at the pain from the cuts on her legs, sore muscles, and bruised feet. Now that they had stopped moving her body was rebelling, throwing out warnings, trying to keep her still.

Alex stirred from his spot against the tree, and went to the supply bin.

“We also have antibiotic lotion, and band aids,” he said, pulling out a small first aid kit. “Let’s get those cuts cleaned up.”

He helped her back to the tree, where she leaned back and let him minister to her. His touch was gentle and sure, and before long her legs sported six hot pink bandages.

“So...uh...why pink?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said and shrugged, looking at her legs and his handiwork and smiling to himself. “I just liked them. There is green, and blue too, but the hot pink ones seem to suit you the best.”

He took her foot, pulled off her sandal, and frowned at the raw looking blisters on her heel and between her toes. When he began to softly knead the bottom of her foot, it felt so good that a soft moan escaped her lips. 

“Oh... you are good. I suppose you were a doctor, or maybe a masseuse before you became a pilot?”

“No,” he said offhandedly, “I’ve only been a pilot, a writer and, oh yeah, an internet millionaire.”

He winked, and Melanie smiled.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

“Really?”

She shrugged. “No, but I was a nurse.”

“Was?”

“I quit working as a nurse three years ago when my husband was in an accident. He became a paraplegic, and I took care of him for a year and a half until his death.”

She said it simply. It was a painful event from her life and she’d learned to hide the emotions that were tied to it.

“That must have been really hard,” he said.

He took off her other sandal, and massaged that foot as well.

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed quietly.

“Well, I think blue band aids for these blisters to match your toenail polish,” he said, effectively changing the subject. 

After he applied the band aids, Alex made her sit while he built a fire-pit. Then he gathered wood and made a small fire.

She admired how capable he was and how quickly there was a cheerful, crackling blaze and a large pile of dry logs and branches to feed it. Then he held up a can and a can opener. “Would you prefer baked beans, or ravioli?”

Her stomach growled at the thought of food, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since a bite of toast early that morning. “Oh, definitely ravioli, thanks.”

The sun was shifting downward. Melanie realized that it must be early evening and thought of her cell phone, her usual time-keeping devise. While Alex prepared their dinner, she dug through her purse and found it. The sound of the familiar chime as she turned it on lit a small hope that it might work, and that they could try to let someone know where they were.

The idea of spending the night there on the ground, with the insects and the rocks was very unappealing. It would be so nice if someone would magically show up in a helicopter to swoop them up and away before nightfall.

Although she hadn’t really expected it to work, when the out of service area message came up her heart sank a little.

She read through some of her old text messages, really just to feel a connection to her real world, and found the one from Martin that she’d received that morning.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, she remembered how when it had come in she’d glanced at it hurriedly and hadn’t bothered to reply.

True, she had been in a hurry getting ready to leave her mother’s home but how hard was it to reply to a text? And he’d probably texted her instead of calling, because he’d known she’d be busy.

She read the text more carefully now. It was only a few short lines.
Angelo’s tonight at 7pm. I miss you. Love, M.

Angelo’s was Melanie’s favorite restaurant, and he’d most likely chosen there because he wanted to celebrate their engagement. He probably felt sure that her answer was going to be yes. But she was feeling less and less convinced that marrying Martin was the right thing to do. 

Well, unfortunately canned ravioli would be worlds away from Angelo’s delicious ravioli de Portobello. Still, the company tonight might be more interesting.

This was a thought that snuck up on Melanie and made her feel very uncomfortable. Appalled at her own thoughts, Melanie tossed the phone back into her purse and jumped up.

“I’m going to find the bathroom,” she announced.

Alex was bent over the fire, but glanced over his shoulder and gave her a small wave.

“Don’t go too far,” he said. Then he added, “The food will be ready soon.”

She walked a little ways up into the trees, until she could no longer see the fire. The evening air was cooling down quickly, and felt refreshing after the sweltering day. As there was no trail to follow, it occurred to Melanie that she might be the only human to have ever touched the ground she walked on.

On the way back, she took a wrong turn somewhere, and after a few minutes of traipsing through the forest the way she thought she’d come, she realized with alarm that she’d been walking way too long.

It was becoming hard to see now; all the shadows seemed to be converging on her.

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M
elanie shivered, partly because it was growing colder, but mostly because the shadows were darkening and blending, making an eerie atmosphere as she walked through the trees.

It had been foolish not to take the flashlight. The distance she could see was growing shorter by the minute. The forest was noisier too with unseen creatures communicating all around her, and the whispering sounds of things moving in the trees, and on the ground. When something rushed past her feet, she jumped and lost her balance falling hard onto the ragged stump of a fallen tree.

“Oh, damn!” she cried out in frustration and pain. Now she had a few more scrapes and bruises to add to the others she’d received that day.

Hugging her shoulders, she told herself to stay calm. She hadn’t walked far enough from their camp to be very lost, and if she had to, she could always shout for Alex.