Page 42 of Calder Country

Colucci had mentioned that Ruby would be flying a new plane after her recovery. Could she be on her way to him now? His pulse raced at the thought of seeing her again.

But this was business, Mason reminded himself. If the incoming pilot was Ruby, they would make contact, exchange payment, unload the crates, and say as little as possible. Then she would climb back into the plane and fly home. Home to her lover.

He hurried to light the fires he’d laid along the landing strip.

* * *

Piloting the De Havilland DH-4 was a dream. With the Rolls-Royce Eagle in-line engine humming in her ears and the controls responding to her slightest touch, Ruby could almost forget that she was flying a load of illegal cargo for unsavory clients in a dirty, dangerous business.

First designed in Britain for the war, the DH-4 was a wood-framed biplane like the Jenny. The prototype had been built as a light day bomber and reconnaissance craft with two seats—one with controls for the pilot and one for an observer, with mounts for a Vickers machine gun in front. In the refurbished peacetime model Ruby was flying, the front cockpit had been converted to a fortified cargo bay. Compared to the Jenny, it was faster, stronger, and more maneuverable, with longer range and higher altitude capabilities.

Ruby had never been told where the long-nosed plane had come from. It had been waiting one morning when she’d been driven in from town. For all she knew, it could’ve been stolen from the U.S. Mail and repainted. Maybe Al Capone had had a hand in procuring it. She only knew that flying it gave her confidence, as well as a sense of freedom she no longer felt on the ground.

At least there’d been no need to fend off Colucci since the crash. His wife had given birth to a baby boy. The proud father had gone home for the christening and the festivities to follow. He’d left a posted schedule for the pilots and ground crew and an armed assistant to see that everybody performed their duties. This morning it was Ruby’s turn to deliver a shipment to Mason Dollarhide.

On approach, Ruby’s nerves sent prickles down her back and along her arms. Mack had assured her that the airstrip had been smoothed and lengthened. He’d had no problem getting in and out in the Jenny. But it wasn’t the landing that triggered the quivering sensation below Ruby’s ribs. It was a memory—lying on her bed, drifting awake to the gentle contact of Mason’s lips on hers.

She had kept her eyes closed and willed herself not to move. But the response had shot through her body like summer lightning, setting off shimmers in the depths of her body.

When he moved away, she had drifted back into sleep. She’d awakened to find Colucci at the door and Mason behaving like a cold stranger.

When the plane touched down on the airstrip, which version of the man would be waiting for her?

But this was business and no time to be a romantic fool—especially when she could be called on to set him up and betray him to the feds.

She could see the bonfires that marked the landing strip. Even heavily loaded, the plane performed like a well-trained steed. Using the stick and rudder pedals, she made a perfect landing and taxied to a stop in front of the cave, where Mason stood waiting for her.

His expression was unreadable. He made no move toward her as she removed her goggles and helmet and climbed out of the cockpit. “I was hoping it would be you,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Otherwise I wouldn’t be flying. Let’s get this business over with.” Walking over to him, she held out her hand for the payment envelope. His green eyes locked with hers as he slipped it out of his vest and placed it in her hands. She counted the bills, stowed them inside her flight jacket, and climbed back onto the wing, using a step below the exhaust pipe to reach the front cockpit.

* * *

Mason stood on the ground below, watching as she lifted out the first crate. She was strong, and she was doing a man’s work. She deserved better, he thought. He’d known other men like Leo Colucci. Back in the city, they had wives who bore their children and were treated with respect. Away from home, they had the women they used. Women like Ruby.

She passed the first crate down to him. He took it from her gloved hands, set it down a few feet from the plane, and reached up for the next one. For the first few minutes they worked in silence, Ruby avoiding eye contact. But as the tension grew, Mason could no longer hold back his words.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Ruby? I’ve been worried about you.”

“If you mean my head and my shoulder, they’re fine.” She lifted another crate from the plane and passed it down.

“That’s not what I mean. Is Colucci treating you okay?”

“I told you, he’s my boss. He tells me what to do, and I do it.” She hefted the last crate of whiskey, passed it down, and climbed off the wing, rubbing her shoulder. “What are you really asking, Mr. Dollarhide? Is there something else you want to know?”

Mason put the last crate on the stack with the others. As he turned back to face her, something worked its way loose in him, like the first break in a dam. The words spilled out before he could stop them.

“You’re better than this business, Ruby. And you’re a hundred times better than Colucci. A man like that will only ruin your life. Get away while you can, before the filthiness drags you under—like it already has me.”

She stared at him. “Is that what you think—that I’m sleeping with Colucci? If it is, you’re wrong. As I told you, he’s my boss. My work boss. That’s all.”

Was she telling the truth? Mason wanted to believe her. But why should it matter? Who was this woman to him?

“I saw the way he looked at you in that hotel room, Ruby,” he said. “It was like he owned you—or at least wanted to. And if you don’t leave while you can, he’ll take you—by any means necessary.”

She took a step toward him, her dark eyes burning their challenge into his. “What’s it to you? Why should you care what happens to me?”

In the heavy beat of silence that followed, Mason crossed the line that divided wisdom from desire. His hands caught her waist, pulling her against him. His mouth found hers in a crushing kiss. She resisted, but only for the briefest moment. Then her lips softened and parted. Her body responded, arms circling his neck, her curves molding to his hardened frame. Her breath came in gasps that were almost sobs. The taste of her, the womanly scent of her, like fresh earth, and the feel of her firm breasts against his chest, ignited a fire between them. He was crazy with wanting her, and he sensed that her hunger matched his own. But there was no place for the way he wanted to make love to her—not the thorny, rocky ground, not the cave—and the sun was coming up. They needed to get her plane back in the air and the contraband liquor out of sight.

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