Page 19 of Calder Country

“Business first. I’ll take your payment now.”

“Fine.” He withdrew a white envelope from the inner pocket of his leather vest. “You can count it if you want. The money for this shipment is all there, along with a down payment on the next one. But we’re not unloading those crates until you’ve had some rest and we’ve made sure you’re all right to fly.”

Ruby took the envelope and tucked it inside her flight jacket. All she wanted was to leave. Surely, even without goggles, she’d be fine for the short return flight. But she couldn’t take off without unloading the heavy crates, and she couldn’t lift them out of the plane by herself.

With a sigh of impatience, she sank onto the log. For now, the man had left her with no choice except to stay.

* * *

Mason took a seat next to the woman he’d never expected to see again. She sat with her hands in her lap—slim, graceful hands, but stained with oil, the nails bitten off to the quick. They were not the hands of a woman who’d had an easy life. Somehow, he liked her for that.

“Are you all right, Ruby?” he asked.

“I will be. But you’re not supposed to know my name. And I’m not supposed to know yours. That’s how this business works.”

“My name is Mason. Mason Dollarhide. Now we’re even. Am I to understand that you’ll be my regular delivery person?”

“That’s what I was told. But if I get myself fired, you won’t be seeing me again.”

“That would be a disappointment. I’ll try to see that it doesn’t happen. How many pilots are working this operation?”

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“And I don’t suppose you’d tell me how far you have to fly to get back to your home base.”

“You should know better than to ask.”

He did know. Safety depended on discretion. The less he knew about her, the better. But the loaded Jenny wouldn’t hold enough fuel for a long round trip, so it was probably close by. Miles City had an airstrip, but it wasn’t private. Maybe his suppliers had a facility of their own, somewhere hidden.

The question was, would it be safe to let her fly there?

Ruby fell into silence, gazing toward the east, where the morning clouds had taken on the soft pinks and violets of early sunrise. He studied her profile against the sky: the chiseled cheekbones, the stubborn chin, the soft curl of auburn hair lying against her cheek. Her tan flight clothes were probably a man’s. But there was nothing mannish about the way they fit her curvy body. Looking at her, Mason felt the tug of desire in his loins. He had yet to slake his lust with a woman. But he knew better than to mix business and pleasure—and this lady was business—important business.

She stirred, turning to fix him with those melting eyes. “I don’t know what your game is, mister, but you’ve paid for your delivery, and that’s all you’re going to get. Take your goods so I can leave. People will be waiting for me—my father and . . . others.”

“Yes, I understand.” He could imagine those others. He’d spoken with Leo Colucci on the ranch house phone to arrange delivery of his first shipment. Julius Taviani had put the two in touch. If Ruby was spending time with the likes of Colucci, she was in dangerous company. Should he warn her? But she looked old enough to know the score. Maybe it was already too late. Maybe she was already sleeping with the bastard.

She stood, brushing off the seat of her pants. “I’m feeling much better now. Let’s get those boxes unloaded.”

He rose to stand beside her. “You hit hard enough to break your goggles. Before we start, do you mind if I check your eyes for any injury?”

“Be my guest. Just get me out of here.” She stood facing him, defiance in her expression and in every line of her body. Mason turned her toward the light and brushed back her hair.

“Hold still. This won’t take long.” He took a flashlight out of his pocket. She gazed up at him, her expression one of suspicion. Looking into her dark eyes, he sensed fear coupled with courage, vulnerability coupled with strength. An ordinary woman—especially one so beautiful—wouldn’t be flying planes to rendezvous with smugglers. Despite his misgivings, Mason found himself wanting to know more about her.

But first things first. In prison, he’d spent time in the infirmary. Among other things, he’d learned how to check for a possible concussion. When he directed the beam into her eyes, the pupils reacted, shrinking uniformly, a good sign.

“Did I pass inspection?” The question carried an edge.

“I’m no doctor. I could be wrong, but everything looks fine.”

“I told you so.”

He pocketed the flashlight. “I can’t resist asking. What makes a woman get into a dirty, dangerous business like this one?”

“Why does any woman get into a dirty, dangerous business?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

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