Page 8 of Calder Country

His smile was slightly lopsided and absolutely charming. “I’m willing to take a chance,” he said. “Maybe I just like the idea of taking a ride with a beautiful woman.”

“Mark my words, mister,” she said. “If I agree to do this, a plane ride is all you’re going to get.”

“I understand. And I promise to behave. Thank you.”

Had Ruby just consented to this madness? The stranger seemed to think she had.

“Dad—” She gave her father a pleading look. But she knew him well. He was already counting the extra dollars in his mind. She loved him dearly, but he did have an avaricious streak. That was why he’d jumped at the offer to deliver bootleg liquor for his so-called friend.

She took the spare helmet and goggles from her father and handed them to the stranger. “Put these on,” she said. “Then follow me. You’ll see a set of controls in your cockpit. Whatever happens, don’t touch them.”

* * *

Wearing the leather helmet and goggles, Mason strode behind the woman to the plane. He’d learned from talking with the pilot that she was his widowed daughter, not his wife. That intrigued him—but Mason knew better than to think he could talk her into bed. He’d learned the hard way that when it came to their womenfolk, fathers tended to be even more protective than husbands. And Ruby—the name he’d heard from her father—was no ordinary woman. The fact that she had the skill and courage to pilot a plane demanded his respect.

But something about her rankled him. She was uppity, damn it, treating him like some fool kid on a carnival ride. She barely looked at him when she motioned him into the front cockpit. He might have said something, but conversation would be difficult with both of them wearing leather helmets that covered their ears. And it would be impossible once the plane’s noisy engine started.

She gestured toward her waist, indicating that he should fasten his seat belt. When she stood on the lower wing, leaning close to make sure his belt was pulled tight and securely fastened, Mason inhaled her womanly aroma beneath the oil-stained jumpsuit. He fought the urge to reach out and touch her cheek, to turn her face and make her look at him with those mesmerizing eyes. But this woman was about to take him on a dangerous ride. Annoying her wouldn’t be smart.

A nervous chill passed through his body as she climbed into the cockpit behind him. Mason had always thought of himself as an adventurous man. But he’d never been in an airplane before, let alone with a beautiful woman who’d confessed to being a fledgling pilot. What if something were to go wrong? Maybe this flight wasn’t such a good idea.

Standing in front of the plane, her father gave the propeller a hard spin. The engine sputtered and stopped. It wasn’t too late, Mason told himself. He could unbuckle his seat belt, wave his arms, and tell her he’d changed his mind.

But then the engine coughed and roared to life. The plane shuddered and began its taxi to the far end of the field. Mason could see the stick and pedal bar moving in the cockpit, as if being worked by some ghostly hand. He remembered Ruby’s admonition not to touch them. But when he watched them, it was fascinating to see how she controlled the plane.

Mason’s pulse hammered as the craft, which seemed no more substantial than a dragonfly, turned into the light wind and began moving forward. The wheels rumbled over the bumpy ground. Then the air caught the wings. The rumbling stopped, and the plane began to climb.

Mason’s stomach dropped as he looked over the side of the cockpit and saw the Montana landscape slipping away beneath him, everything below growing smaller. Even the distant Calder spread appeared miniature—unimportant in the vast scheme of things. Mason began to laugh. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered out loud. He was beginning to enjoy himself. This was better than being drunk.

With the wind battering his goggles, he put up a hand and made an okay sign with his fingers. Since Ruby was directly behind him, piloting the plane, he had no way of knowing whether she’d understood. But he liked to think she had.

He would have enjoyed inviting her to dinner at Jake’s after the other flights—probably with her father along. But his small windfall of cash from the bank loan had dwindled to pocket change. With time and funds running out, he needed to learn what his mother had done with the money from the bank. That would be his first priority when he got home. But for now, he was soaring in the azure sky with a goddess. He’d be a fool not to savor every moment.

* * *

Ruby glanced at her wristwatch. Fifteen minutes. That was how much of her time the stranger had bought with his money. She could hardly wait until the ride was over and she had him safely back on the ground.

The man struck her as arrogant—as if he thought his wealth could buy anything, or anyone, including her. Art should have refused his offer to pay extra for her services. But she’d lacked the spine to say no, and now here she was.

What did she know about him, this hard-edged stranger with scars on his face and hands? He was obviously wealthy. But she sensed dark secrets lurking behind those striking green eyes. And the way he’d looked at her, as if he were reining back forbidden urges...

Collecting her thoughts, she checked her watch again. Thank goodness. It was time to turn the plane around and descend to a safe landing.

She banked the plane, tilting the wings to an angle that was guaranteed to get her passenger’s pulse racing. Coming out of the turn, she leveled off and began the gradual descent to the field where her father waited.

That was when it happened—the sputter of the engine, followed by the most terrifying sound a flyer could hear—dead silence.

She checked the fuel gauge. No problem there, but something had killed the engine. This had happened once when she was flying with Art. He’d managed to start the plane again, opening the throttle and manipulating the switch until the engine caught and the propeller began to whir. But Ruby had yet to master the trick. She tried once, then again. Nothing happened.

She was running out of time. She would have to glide down, trusting the air to carry the wings as she used the rudder to steer the plane to a safe landing spot.

Willing herself not to panic, she moved the stick back, raising the nose of the plane slightly. Aiming downward, in the direction she wanted to go, could trigger a deadly dive. The only sound was the whisper of air rushing beneath the wings. Using the controls, she eased the plane into a long, shallow glide.

In the front cockpit, her passenger didn’t appear to be moving. Was he paralyzed with fear or had he simply passed out? She couldn’t worry about him now—not when the slightest error on her part, or even a stray gust of wind, could send them both plunging to their deaths.

Time froze. Ruby forced herself to breathe, as if her life force alone could keep the craft in the air. Ahead and below, she could see the field. The people along the side looked as small as insects, the cars like toys. Was she coming in too low? Or maybe too high? Her knuckles whitened on the stick. If the glide was too high, she would overshoot the landing and rip the plane apart in the tall scrub at the end. If it was too steep, she would crash-land, destroy the plane, and possibly kill her passenger and herself.

Her teeth bit into her lower lip, drawing blood as she came in for the landing. Easy . . . easy . . . like lowering a baby into its cradle . . . Stick, ailerons . . .

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