Page 4 of Love at First Flight

“And why is that, sir?” Her attitude shifted to cool professionalism, expecting a demand of her qualifications, certifications, and number of flight hours.

“Oh, I didn’t mean...” He took a beat before continuing, “I just mean that you have a lovely, clear voice, one that doesn’t sound at all like this...” Over the phone line, he mimicked the sound of static, his voice switching to an even lower octave and becoming muffled, as if he was partially covering his mouth. “Uhhhhh, good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen... this is your captain speaking. We’re at a comfortable, uh, cruising altitude of ten million feet. Sit back, relax, and ignore the gremlin on the wing of the plane.”

If, at that moment, she’d been drinking the coffee Elena had brought her, the walls of the office trailer would have been painted with it as the result of a spit take. This man had the stereotypical, smooth piloting cadence down pat, even to the point of extending the length of hisuh’s—and not only did he make her laugh, but he’d said she had a lovely voice. Selah never had a call like this, especially one which was supposed to be all business. Her insides were warm and light instead of knotted and stressed, a nice change of pace for once.

“That’s because pilots only use the piloting voice when they’re piloting. Passengers find it very calming. I can’t be wearing it out when I’m off duty. I’m currently using my, uh, phone voice.” For some reason, she thought it necessary to sayphone voicein a breathless, sultry tone, as though it was the sexier version. Her cheeks warmed at the implication, and she smothered a giggle because professional pilots weren’t supposed to blush or giggle.

“Really?” He sounded intrigued. It was as though, through the phone, they were able to move closer together, turning this into an intimate conversation—something it most definitely was not. It was a regular business call. Period.

“I think I might need to hear an example of this,” he said in a way that made her heart flutter within her chest.

“O-of my piloting voice?”

“Of course. How else am I going to know I’m booking with a legit pilot? I’m surprised everyone isn’t asking you for your piloting voice before they book. Didn’t you do a whole course of this in flight school or something?”

Selah bit back another grin, leaning forward onto Hailey’s desk and nibbling on the edge of one of her nails. Why was this office suddenly so warm? At this point, she was glad her younger sister was late. In fact, she hoped Hailey slept the whole day away. “You think you can handle my piloting voice?”

“Well, now I have to hear it.”

Sliding a glance to the other side of the office, she confirmed there weren’t any witnesses. Talking to a potential customer about her piloting voice wasn’t at the top of the list of what she’d consider to be inappropriate behavior. And, yet, something about it did feel this way. If this conversation were recorded on some hidden black box and re-played in one of her aviation courses, as an example of pilot and client interactions, she’d go straight to skydiving without a parachute in shame. Luckily, no one was here but her and this funny mystery man on the other side of the line.

Cupping a hand over her mouth, she made her own static-like noises before deepening her voice as much as she could. “Uhhhhhhhhh...” The monosyllable sound vibrated from her much longer than his, like she was trying to break a record. “This is your pilot, Selah Moreno, speaking, and we’re at a cruising, uh, floating altitude of two thousand feet. If you look north, you can see Smith Rock, and just below us, you can see two alpacas getting it on. Nothing like a little nature to inspire your day.”

The whole thing was quite goofy, but she was rewarded with a deep laugh, making it all worth it. The sound filled her insides with giddy bubbles. “Selah.” He said her name as if he was saving it in his memory. She liked the way he said it, as though it was the name of someone important, someone he shouldn’t forget. Both syllables were pronounced the way she liked it, something she appreciated. She knew her name was unusual for the area, even more for someone of Latina descent, and she was used to spelling and pronouncing it for people.

Her mother had named her Selah because she’d heard it meant rock. She’d been told the name had other meanings, but her mom stuck with rock because she liked telling her daughter,Always be strong and steady like a rock, mija. And that’s exactly how Selah strived to be. She felt like she needed to, especially now.

She was equally curious about the name of this man, wondering how she could slyly pry it out of him without having to turn the conversation weird or make it into a boring business inquiry, hoping he’d volunteer it without asking.

“With that demonstration, I’m convinced you’re an excellent pilot—and you also have a very nice phone voice.”

Her skin flushed at having pleased him, but she kept her voice casual, not wanting to reveal too much emotion, doing her best to tamp it down. “Thank you, sir. That’s such a relief to hear.”

“I work there, you know.”

“Where? Here at the farm?” As soon as she said it, Selah realized how ridiculous it was. It’d been a while since her parents had hired extra farm help... unless her mom had hired someone without telling her because she knew Selah would be mad since there was no money for it.

Besides her family, there was only Boone, who was part of the balloon chase crew, along with her middle sister, Naomi. While Boone was inarguably good-looking, he wasn’t really her type, and imagining having a flirty conversation—not that she was flirting, but someone might construe it that way—Anyway, whatever this was, she didn’t want it with Boone. This man’s voice was quite different, though: warm and comfortably deep, a little scratchy, unlike Boone’s voice, which always seemed overly confident and smooth.

The man laughed easily. “No. Smith Rock. I’m a park ranger here.”

Her relief was immediate. “Oh!” she exclaimed too brightly, as if this was the most amazing news in the world. “That’s really... cool.”Coolbeing the single adjective she could squeeze from her brain, making her sound very uncool. “I love going there. What’s your name?” She asked as though she were familiar with all the park rangers. A cynical person would never fall for such an easy, obvious ploy.

Fortunately, he didn’t act suspicious at her attempt to pry his name from him. “Dex,” he replied. “Dex Westerly. I’m originally from the Bay Area, but I moved to Central Oregon about two years ago.”

Stretching, Selah pulled the work laptop from her desk to Hailey’s, and quickly typedSmith RockandDex Westerly. This wasn’t internet stalking, she told herself. Instead, it was curiosity, as she wanted to put a face to the voice. One of the first results was aWelcome Ranger Dexter Westerlyarticle on the official Smith Rock website. His picture was posted at the top. It wasn’t the work of a professional glamor shot, but it was a nice photo all the same.

In the image, he leaned against a wooden split rail fence. Behind him was the jagged, majestic view of the Smith Rock landscape with the large, orangish-yellow crags and mountain-sized rocks jutting skyward. A lush creek snaked around the giant, rocky formation, surrounded by dried brush and juniper trees. It was a familiar landscape, as Selah had visited the area many times, both on the ground and from the air.

Dex looked like the kind of guy who’d been a skinny geek in high school and had morphed into a taller, handsomer version of a geek into adulthood. In the photo, he held a tan ball cap in one hand that rested on the fence. His other hand was partially stuffed into the pocket of his mountain-green hiking pants. He wore the short-sleeved park ranger uniform on top, but this was partially covered by a fleece vest. He wasn’t looking directly at the camera, but down and to the side, with a slight grin on his face as though the camera person said something he found amusing. Dex was somewhat on the lanky side with light-brown, neatly trimmed hair. Selah was disappointed he was clean-shaven, as she preferred a little scruff, but he still had a nice face.

She had to admit, the guy was cute. Cuter than Boone, for sure. For the first time in her life, she investigated whether there was a wedding ring on his finger. She figured he would be married, as he had a friendly husband-next-door vibe, one married to a woman named Ashleigh, who would post pictures of autumn, scarfs, and pumpkin spice lattes on her social media... someone Selah definitely was not. In a miracle of all miracles, the left hand had no wedding band visible. Her heart lifted with good fortune.

It was a silly exercise, though, because there was no way she’d get involved with someone—not at this point in her life. She remained partially wounded from her last relationship, regretting getting involved with a guy she met at the airport where she had attended flight school, someone who’d recently split with his wife. She’d mistaken a real relationship for a rebound one and had been cast aside after a few months. Never again.

Despite this, she wouldn’t mind talking to Dex some more because he seemed nice and someone who could distract her from her current worries of keeping her family from sinking into bankruptcy and losing her father’s only legacy. Simple, uncomplicated stuff like that.

“Hello?” Dex said, snapping her from her unserious speculation.

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