Wayfaring Stranger (Holland Family Saga 1)

She felt her fountain pen leaking across her hand. She had forgotten what the variations in a plane’s cabin pressure could do to the rubber bladder in a fountain pen. The ink left a dark blue stain in the shape of a monkey’s paw on her white dress.

Down below she saw a break in the clouds and the lights of a city spread across a prairie as flat as a breadboard. The pilot came on the intercom and announced that the plane would be landing at Lubbock, and all the passengers would be placed in a hotel at the airline’s expense until the storm passed.

Three hours later, as the dawn was breaking coldly in the east, Linda Gail called Hershel at home. There was no answer. She called three times, then at eight-thirty A.M. she called the office in Houston. The secretary said he had not come in. Nor was he at the office in Baton Rouge.

She called Roy Wiseheart at his home. “Oh, thank heavens,” she said when he picked up.

“Linda Gail?” he said, his voice dropping into a whisper.

“We had to make an emergency landing in Lubbock. Will you go to my house and check on Hershel?”

“Me?”

“I have no one else I can depend upon.”

“Call Weldon.”

“I already did. He’s no help. He’s a stick in the mud on top of it.”

“You shouldn’t have called here.”

“I’m worried about what Hershel might do. He has a gun.”

“He’s a grown man. He needs to be treated like one.”

“You were both war heroes. He’ll listen to you.”

“Do you realize how inappropriate this is?”

“Inappropriate? I’m talking about somebody’s life.”

There was a silence. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Go to the house. If he’s not there, try to find out where he is. You have resources that other people don’t. Do I have to explain this to you?”

“I’ve got to go now.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me. I’ll call back. I don’t care who’s there, either.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“I want your word.”

“I promise.”

“You don’t know how much this means.”

“Are we still on?”

“On for what?”

“On. What do you think I mean? We also have to talk about the picture. I spoke with Jerry Fallon twenty minutes ago. He wants us back in Los Angeles in five days. So does Jack Warner.” There was another beat. “Are you there?”

“Call me after you check on Hershel.”

“Did you hear what I said? Jack Warner wants us both in L.A.”

“I don’t care what he wants. Find Hershel.”