Katie’s words really hit home with him. Not so much because she was right, which he realized she was, but because he’d never been in a relationship like this. Thirty-five years old and she was his first steady girl since high school. Never mind all his determination to remain single and childless, he’d never met a woman who was so hard to leave. A woman whose special scent and the perfume of her hair and skin made him love drunk. Her body beneath his hands put a fire in him; her voice lulled him and brought him ease. Her laugh lifted his spirits and her self-confidence somehow made him more sure of himself.

Katie might be the one woman in the universe he wanted to touch, to caress and possess, but she was hardly the first person to make this observation about him—that he needed a good, one-man woman in his life. Lang and Adele had made similar comments, though not based on any knowledge of his sexual needs, needs he’d never before been so aware of. Satisfaction usually set him free; sex with Katie only left him wanting more.

Adele had witnessed, while Dylan was growing up, how much he had longed for a safe and nurturing family unit and would often remind him, “Remember that TV family is make-believe, Dylan. Don’t depend on it for love.” And his best friend would see him around his own family, around Sue Ann and all the kids, and often remark that Dylan had himself all wrong—he was probably the most marriageable man around. “It’s obvious you take to it,” Lang often said. “You’re calmer hanging out around all these little hoodlums than I am.”

It was true. The one thing he had long been avoiding was a connection like the one he had with Katie. He feared it more than anything else. He wasn’t sure where she found her strength, but he wasn’t made of the same stuff. Having her and losing her, by any means—death, divorce, even malignant discord, it would kill him.

The boys were wild about their play set. Dylan and Katie sat on the porch and watched them risk life and limb testing the limits of the jungle gym. Katie interjected commands like, “Not upside down, please,” “That’s too high!” and “Don’t do that!”

And once Dylan said, “Andy! It’s Mitch’s turn!”

And they all stopped dead still and stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You can tell them apart,” Katie said softly.

Could he? Well, maybe he did that once. It must have been subconscious. It was definitely spontaneous.

“Well, I’ve been around a while now.”

“A little over a month,” she said, smiling at him. “But you’re leaving in a couple of days, right?”

He turned to look at her. “Have I stayed too long?” he asked her. “So long that when I leave now, because I will have to go, will it hurt you so much that you hate me?”

She looked at him, patiently shaking her head. “Dylan, did I say or do anything that made you think I was involved with you against my will?”

“Of course you didn’t…”

“I’m not offended that you have so little faith in me. You haven’t known me long enough to judge that fairly. But sometimes it hurts me how little faith you have in yourself.” She gave his cheek a stroke. “Do what you have to do. You’ve had so many successes in your life, stop being so afraid of failure. You’re not going to fail.”

Those eyes of hers put him in a trance. He could drown in those eyes. He found himself leaning toward her and she turned in her chair to lean into him. And their lips met. He threaded his hand around her neck, his fingers stretching into her hair and he moved over her mouth with longing.

And there was a shriek and a shout from the yard, breaking them apart. “Ew, Mom, gross,” Andy cried. And Mitch pulled Andy to him and made wild smacking noises. They hugged like little bears and fell to the ground, rolling around in the dirt as they made kissing noises and laughed themselves stupid.

“Silly asses,” Dylan muttered to Katie’s laughter.

Almost daily, Dylan rode to the top of that hill where his view was sensational and his iPhone reception was excellent. It was a Thursday afternoon; he’d spent some time with Katie in the morning and now was attending to his business. His first call was always to Childress Aviation. And the news was not getting any better.

“Dylan, buddy, we’ve had charter cancellations, the BBJ leasing company came for their jet and they’re talking about holding us to the lease. That would definitely wipe out petty cash.”

“We had petty cash?” Dylan asked.

“By September we’re going to have to shut down the training center—not enough instructors or students to run it. I thought we could limp along for six months, but it doesn’t look like it. By fall we’ll be down to just the fixed base operation—storage, maintenance, fueling and landing facilities. I’m sorry, buddy. We’ll be joining the ranks of many other small airports in this country, gasping for breath.”

“I’ll be on the road in a couple of hours,” he said when he could find his voice.

“There’s no hurry, man. There’s nothing you can do here. Come home when you feel like it. I’m sending out résumés—just looking, just in case something pops up. If I get a job offer, I’m going to take it.”

“Flying job?” Dylan asked.

“I’ve heard some shipping companies are hiring pilots for freight transport. Multiengine heavies, which, thanks to you and your fancy BBJ, I’m qualified to fly. I might as well throw out my net. It wouldn’t have to be forever, just until we get back on our feet.”

It was on Dylan’s lips to shout Don’t do it! He knew Lang wanted to live and work in Payne; wanted to raise his family there. So he said, “I know you have your reasons…”

“Five of ’em,” Lang said.

“I understand. But you want to live in Montana…”

“I’m just looking around, D. You can’t carry us all forever, not on just a little airport that gets minimal use. I’ll let you know if I get any promising news.”

Dylan pressed his thumb and finger into his eyes, trying to ease the ache there. If Lang got a job offer, he’d probably have to move to a larger city, a larger base of operations. He felt like shouting, You’re my only family! You can’t move away! He said, “We probably should have done this a long time ago, when we could have found flying jobs at the same company…”

“Nah, we had us some good years here and I don’t regret a day of it. With any luck, and we’re due some, you can operate this company on your own. You can still instruct—you’ll get the occasional student. With Stu on maintenance, you’ll have yourself a two-man show. It’s your land, after all.”

“Only sort of,” he said. It was Adele’s land. They’d paid back what they owed her for the runway and buildings, but she wouldn’t take lease payments on the house or land. And he was her only heir.

“Your gran will be fine with it, Dylan. Listen, try not to take this personally—it’s a shitty time for businesses like ours. Can’t make a living if you can’t gas up the planes.”

“I feel responsible. I feel like—”

“Bugger off,” Lang said. “We knew what we were doing. We did what we wanted to do. We could’ve gone to work for a commercial carrier and been furloughed ten times by now. We had it good, we just didn’t have it forever. I’m not divorcing you, I’m just going to try to get another job.”

“Carry your cell,” Dylan said unnecessarily. Of course he’d have his cell with him.

“I’ll talk to you in the next couple of days. Don’t let this gut you, D. It’s just change, it’s not the end of the world. We do what we have to do.”

“Right,” he said. “Good luck, man.”

The truth was, Dylan could manage his livelihood just as Lang described, though it would be reasonably modest. But then Dylan, alone, didn’t need much. He just hated cutting all those other people—Lang, instructors, charter pilots—out of the loop because the company fell on hard times. And since he had a chance to try to save it, he had to at least give it a shot. But he was running low on time and Hollywood had a reputation for moving with all the speed of bureaucracy. If Jay didn’t have anything soon, Dylan would have to get back to Montana and try to drum up something to pay the bills. He was open to anything from crop dusting to renting a big truck and turning his airline into a moving company.

When they signed off, he called Jay Romney. “I hope you have something encouraging to tell me,” Dylan said. “If you don’t, I’m going to have to—”

“I have excellent news, and thanks for your patience. I have an interested director and a script I optioned last year that I think you’ll love,” he said. “The director is Sean Adams—big name with a lot of juice. He’d like a meeting. Can you meet us at my office on Monday at noon? I’ll have lunch catered in.”

“I’ll be there,” Dylan said. “And, Jay, until we have something nailed down, not a word to anyone.”

“Absolutely. Tell me your nearest airport, son,” Jay said. “I’ll have a chartered jet bring you in.”

Dylan burst out laughing. “Is that right?” Dylan could’ve brokered that deal if he’d been at home. “I’ll get there. I’ll give you my ticket stub and you can reimburse me.”

How funny was that—apparently there were some business entities that still made use of charters.

Dylan would fly down. He’d try to make a deal. Because his best friend might be right, it might be time for a change. But just in case Lang didn’t get a flying job right away, Dylan was going to find a way to keep Lang and other employees who were left behind in paychecks. He could sacrifice a few months on a set to get that done.

He’d have to give himself at least one extra day in L.A. before meeting with Romney and Adams—a day to buy some “meeting clothes” since all he had with him were jeans and boots—pretty roughed-up clothes at that.

He dialed again. “Gran, hi,” he said. “I’m headed to L.A. to meet with Jay Romney. Are you going to be in L.A.? I’d like to see you.”

“I’m here for another month, at least,” she said. “Will you stay here?”

He hesitated. He had a feeling he was going to crave a little time alone. “I…ah…I think I’m going to take a rain check on that, Gran. I’ll get a hotel room. But I definitely want to get together. I’ll call you when I have some kind of schedule. It’ll be easier to plan once I know what Jay has to say and whether he needs more of my time. I’ll be sure to fill you in.”

“Dylan,” she began. “Are you coming alone?”

The question almost paralyzed him. The impact of what he was doing hadn’t quite hit him until his grandmother asked. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

“I see,” she said. “Well, call when you get here. I think we’ll have plenty to talk about.”

For now he had plenty to think about. He really was leaving this time, and once he left he couldn’t imagine being able to come back. He had a home in another place and no work in this little mountain town. All he had here was the most awesome woman he’d ever met, and no way to stay with her. He wasn’t sure how to tell her that and even considered just running for his life, something he hadn’t hesitated to do when involved with other women.

He wouldn’t do that to Katie. He’d face her and tell her the truth.

Early Friday morning he packed up his duffel and settled up with Luke Riordan. Katie usually dropped her boys off at nine so he went to the bar for breakfast. Once she was alone, they’d have their talk. He wasn’t sure whether that would happen on her front porch, on their favorite hilltop or wrapped in each other’s arms in bed. But it was happening this morning.