Love Lands

By K A Northam

Captain Andrew Campbell thought crashing his aircraft during combat, was his worst nightmare.
That was until he was forced to resign from his hard fought post, as a US Marine Corps pilot.
Unwilling to return home to confront his family issues, he takes up an offer from a discerning friend and colleague, who helped repair his physical wounds after his accident.
What he didn’t realise was that he was being sent to war again.
Only this time the battle lies within his heart.

In her early twenties, Sasha Randall, ex-Royal Australian Air Force pilot, gave up on her passion of flying fighter jets long ago, to focus on her family.
Now at twenty eight and living with her grandfather on his farm in outback Queensland, she has built herself a successful air charter business.
This keeps her busy enough, enabling her to forget the fact she hasn’t been in love or even physically been with a guy, in a little over six years.
When her brother unexpectedly sends an American friend to help out on her Grandfathers farm, she certainly wasn’t prepared for the sexy, charismatic pilot who lands in town.
She also didn’t anticipate love to land in her heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K A Northam
• Release date: Feb 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311588784

K A Northam

Born in NSW, Australia in 1979, I grew up in a small town on the NSW North Coast.After finishing high school I moved to Sydney where I worked as an apprentice chef for a few years before moving into Sales and Administration.I now reside on the NSW North Coast with my partner and our two children, who along with my day job, keep me busy!So how does a chef, who works in an office, end up as a romance writer you ask?Well, I have loved reading since I was young, hoping that one day I might meet my 'prince charming', just like Cinderella did.And I did.After having the story of Nicholas and Rayanna (from Curing Her Heart) play out in a dream back in 2014, I thought why not have a go at putting that story into written words so that other readers like me, could read it.I'd like to think that my books will bring the same kind of enjoyment that reading gives me.

Book preview

Love Lands

K A Northam

Copyright

Copyright © 2015 by K A Northam

This work is copyright. Apart from any use permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process, nor may any other exclusive right be exercised, without the permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Copyright

Prologue

About

Excerpt from Love Lands in Turbulence

Prologue

I hear the roaring flames, the acrid smell of jet fuel and the sun above is a glowing ball of red through the haze of smoke. For the first time in my life, I fear death.

The pain that courses through me as I try to move my body is the most intense feeling I’ve ever experienced and never prepared myself for. I’ve felt pain before, but nothing can prepare you, when you’ve been shot out of the sky.

The blackened skies dissipate with the melodic thrumming that is getting louder by the second. I hear voices yelling in the distance and at this point I care not if it’s friend or foe.

I close my eyes and hear orders being barked out before hands grab me under the arms and torso and with the rough movement, the pain in my legs intensifies and I black out completely.

Waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness surrounding me, the smokiness burning my nostrils is now replaced by disinfectant and the crackling sound of my aircraft disintegrating is now deathly silent.

I manage to prop myself up on my elbows and I recognise the row of beds beside me as the base camp’s hospital, and relief floods my senses.

Footsteps approach and when I turn my head down the other line of beds, I see The Doc heading towards me.

Well Captain Campbell, I’m glad you could join us back in the land of the living mate.

The deep Australian accent of Captain Jacob Randall – or The Doc as he’s referred to on base – brings a massive smile to my face. I’m back on safe territory and staring at the face of an armed ally and good friend.

Hey Doc. Good to be in safe hands. So what’s the damage?

My heart pounds when his smile fades to a grimace and it hits me that I’m probably lucky to be speaking to him at this point.

The damage is extensive and I’m not referring to that million dollar aircraft you were in. You’ve got some superficial damage all over, but it’s your left leg that was of concern. You suffered a numbered of breaks in it and a lot of nerve damage. I’ve done the best I can to save it and only time will tell how bad it really is. You are going to be out of action for a while, I’m sorry.

Although he didn’t say it directly, I knew what he meant by out of action. I would be leaving Shindand Air Base in the Herat Province of Afghanistan, never to return to my post as Captain Andrew Campbell, a pilot in the US Marine Corps.

You’ll be here for a couple more days, then they’ll airlift you out to Germany for debriefing and rehab. Then I guess you’ll be heading home to Charleston?

I know why he’s questioning the last port of call for me. The Doc and I have become close friends during our last two years here, serving our respective countries. And The Doc is fully aware of my reluctance to go home to the shit storm that is my family. Joining the Marines was a means to escape it all and has been my haven for the last ten years.

You guessed wrong Doc. I’ll find somewhere else in the Corps where they can use my services. I’ll be damned if they send me back to Charleston.

My vehement denial of the seriousness of my injuries, has The Doc shaking his head.

Do you really want to be tied down to a desk Drew? That’s what’ll happen if you stay in the Marines and you won’t be able to pick and choose your posting and they sure as hell won’t let you fly planes anymore.

I know Jake, but where else can I go? I’m not going to give up flying.

I’m at a loss if I can’t do the one thing that brings me happiness.

Look Drew, you should get some rest and take advantage of the excellent drugs we’re pumping into you at the moment. Try not to worry about all this until you’re back in Germany. I’m sure you’ll be there a while before you have to decide anything.

Three months later, I find myself staring down the barrel of some intense physical therapy for my busted leg.

I’m still buried in a US Marine Corps facility in Germany, awaiting my fate with regards to my service career and each day, means one day closer to having to make a decision.

One afternoon, I’m using my crutches to make my way back to my room, when I’m stopped by a Private with a mail bag and he digs out an envelope addressed to me.

With a brief salute, he’s on his way and I glance at the sender’s name on the back.

Captain J Randall, Royal Australian Army

This is nothing new since my arrival in Germany. Jake Randall has been writing me since I left base months ago. It’s his way of checking on me I’m sure.

But as I sit down in my room to read this letter its contents give me a rush of something, I haven’t felt since leaving Afghanistan – hope.

Hey Cap’n Crash,

How’s that bum leg of yours? If you’re chasing around those pretty nurses you’ve been telling me about, it must be getting better!

I know you were still undecided last time you wrote about what you want to do when you finish up in Germany, but I have a solution you may be interested in.

My gramps back home in Australia, runs a crop dusting company from his farm in South East Queensland. He’s starting to struggle with it all and is in need of a hand with the day to day. I can’t guarantee he’ll let you be a stick jockey right away (nor am I sure that leg is up for it just yet), but it’s good, hard, honest work and on the opposite side of the globe to Charleston.

If you’re interested the jobs yours. Let me know ASAP so I can let gramps know either way.

Jake.

With that letter my fate was decided.

Chapter 1

Two months after receiving Jake’s letter, I’m in a place called Mistake Creek, Australia.

Sitting in the lounge room of Albert Randall’s farmhouse, the faint sound of single prop aircraft permeates the air around me.

I absently rub my injured leg, which after months of rehab is a lot better, but gives me plenty of grief, especially after sitting for too long in economy class.

Standing up to stretch it out a bit, I walk around the large room taking in all of the décor. It’s styled to suit the surrounding country side of dark earthy tones and lime washed timber furniture.

There are photos on just about every wall and any sturdy piece of furniture that will hold a frame.

The sound of a plane coming in to land disrupts me from my looking over a black and white photo of a young man wearing military uniform that bears a striking resemblance to The Doc.

I catch a glimpse of a single prop Cessna coming in to land on a purpose built runway not far from the back of the farmhouse. The sight of the canary yellow fuselage brings a smile to my face. It’s a far cry from the F/A-18 Hornet that was my craft of choice.

As the Cessna rolls out of sight behind a large hangar, I continue to study the many photos around me.

The photo that catches my eye this time around the room is one of a remarkably stunning woman, with dark chocolate coloured hair, olive toned skin, wearing a dark navy coloured dress uniform. The feature that strikes me the most about the woman in the photo, are her piercing grey eyes that are shining like silver with pride.

Here you go Captain Campbell, an iced water.

The sound of Albert Randall’s voice startles me and I almost drop the frame in my hands. Placing it back on the mantle above the fireplace and turning round to take the glass from his outstretched hand.

Thank you Sir, but please call me Drew. I’m no longer a commissioned officer of the Marines.

Giving him a polite smile I raise my glass in thanks.

Alright then, please call me Bert. Last time I checked I hadn’t been knighted by the Queen.

We both have a laugh at that. Bert takes a seat on the sofa opposite me.

So Jake tells me that you flew fighters in the Corps.

Yes Sir…I mean Bert. Looking at him apologetically he nods in understanding at my inability to break an ingrained habit of calling anyone superior to me Sir.

Do you know much about civil birds or only the fancy fast ones?

I started out learning to fly small aircraft before moving on to the fast ones.

Well that’s good to know. I’m not looking for pilots at the moment and you would need a least a certificate of validation if you wanted to fly, but I do need some help on the ground with making sure everything is running right. If you want, I can help you with getting certified to fly that way I’ll always have you as a back-up if needed.

Sounds great Bert. When do I….

GRAAAMPS. You in here. What’s this crap from Jake about you bringing in some Yankee to help?

Our conversation is interrupted by an angry female voice shouting down the hallway.

In the lounge Sasha. Bert yells back over his shoulder.

I look up as the sound of footsteps enters from the hallway and into the bright silver eyes that were from the photograph. She’s still wearing a uniform but this one is a little less formal than the military one in her picture. Her dark brown hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, accentuating high cheekbones and full pink lips. The white collared shirt hugs her body closely and is emblazoned with a picture of a mythological bird and the words Phoenix Air embroidered below it. The shirt is tucked tightly into a pair of navy coloured dress shorts that stop just short of her knees and when my gaze skims over her toned legs, I suck in a deep breath.

I dated a professional dancer once, whose legs I thought were the best I’d ever seen. I was wrong.

Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise we had company gramps. Giving Bert an affectionate smile, she then turns her attention to me.

You must be Mr Franklin. I could have sworn your secretary told me you were coming at two. I’ll show you to the hangar and you can have a look at the aircraft used to fly the mine workers in and out of town, if you like?

She’s looking at me as if I have a clue what she’s on about and I’m sitting here dumbfounded by her introduction.

Bert on the other hand is rumbling with laughter and it causes the woman to shoot a pissed off look his way.

Upon gathering himself, Bert waves Sasha into the room and finally explains the confusion.

Sasha, this isn’t Mr Franklin from the mining company. This is Andrew Campbell. The Yankee I’ve hired to help me out.

With his reference to me as ‘The Yankee’ we both stifle a chuckle and a rush of crimson colours Sasha’s cheeks.

It’s Drew Ma’am, and I’m more of a Confederate than a Yankee!

I lean over to her with my hand outstretched and when I give her a sly wink, she gasps lightly and the hue of embarrassment washes over her face again.

She hesitates in shaking my hand and I can see that she doesn’t much like me being here for some reason and it stings a little.

Trying to save face, I plaster my most charming smile on and am rewarded when her eyes widen a little with a look that I’ve become accustomed to receiving from women in general. When she leans across the coffee table between us, her hand glides forward and slips into mine, a tingling sensation, like a static shock, hits me when I feel warm, soft skin and smell the scent of jasmine.

Her eyes narrow slightly at the contact and I wonder if she felt what I just did. She shakes my hand firmly and pulls back quickly. She definitely felt something.

So you’re a friend of Jake’s huh? That would make you military. I wonder… She purses her lips and taps a slim finger over them.

I’m guessing Navy Seal right?

She clicks her fingers like she’s solved the most frustrating puzzle as she says this.

No Ma’am. Marine Corps. I’m sorry I’m a little confused, are you Jake’s sister? He mentioned he has a sister, but she is stationed in Malaysia, no?

I look at both Sasha and Bert, who are conducting a silent conversation and I feel like there is a deeper explanation to my question than the one I receive.

Yes, I’m his sister. I was based in Malaysia for a while but not any longer. If you happen to be speaking with him, I’d rather you not mention that I’m here.

Sasha is suddenly standing, brushing an imaginary mark from her shorts.

If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do before Mr Franklin is due to arrive.

And then as quick as a plane taking off, she’s gone.

I hear the screen door at the front of the house slam shut and notice Bert jump slightly at the sound.

I’m sorry about that Drew. She and Jake don’t talk as often as they should. She’s probably just pissed off that I asked Jake for help and not her, but she’s as busy as a cat burying shit at the moment and doesn’t need to be worrying about an old codger like me.

What was she doing over in Malaysia, if you don’t mind me asking?

The whole situation has me more than intrigued. Jake wasn’t one to tell me all about his family, just like I didn’t like to discuss mine all that much. I think it was one of the reasons we got on so well on base. We talked more about sports and women than anything else.

She was a stick jockey like you for the Royal Australian Air Force. Damn good one too. I’ll leave it up to her to fill you in on the details. Now let me show you to Jake’s old room so you can settle in.

I grab my duffel bag and backpack up of the floor near the doorway and follow Bert down another hallway and then up a flight of stairs to a door at the far end of the top floor.

Bert opens up the door to the room and it reminds me of my room back home in Charleston, before I signed up to the Marines, not long out of my senior year of school.

You probably want to grab forty winks before dinner son. I’ll see you back downstairs at six pm sharp. Don’t be late or there won’t be any food left after the hordes descend.

Thanks Bert.

I’m too amped to think about sleep. Right now, I want to learn more about the mysterious Sasha Randall.

Chapter 2

Hey Miss Ash. Is that mining bloke here for his tour?

The sound of my head engineer’s – Danny – voice snaps me out of the foul mood, that Jake’s American friend put me in.

I don’t know why I’m annoyed by the tall handsome stranger that Jake sent home to help gramps out, but there is something about him that has put me on alert. Especially after the zap of energy I got whilst shaking his hand. That unnerved me.

Hey Danny, no Mr Franklin hasn’t arrived yet, but he should be here any minute. Have you got all your maintenance paperwork handy if he needs to see any of it?

I give Danny a stern look. He’s great at keeping our aircraft to safety regulations, however his administrative skills are sorely lacking.

Yeah, I sure do. I helped Margie to sort it into folders for me so it’ll make it easier to find what he needs.

Danny gives me a cheeky grin. I know he probably got Margie our office manager to do it all.

Okay thanks Danny. I’ll need you to hang around in case he has any technical questions though.

Aww shit, I was supposed to pick up the kids from school this arvo. You don’t need me to answer any tech questions. You know the answers just as much as me Ash.

Danny’s dancing around tells me of his discomfort at being put on the spot. Unless this Mr Franklin rocks up to the hangar wearing shorts and a singlet, waving a six pack of beer under Danny’s nose, Danny’s going to be