Sunburst

“Like that.”

It took a moment for her to understand. She glanced down to see the white jeans that were perfectly appropriate. Somehow that was all there was. Her bare breasts were as tense as the rest of her body, her small, dark nipples pointing right at him. But then, her breasts and Kyle’s hands had always had this magnetic relationship all their own… You’re thinking as clearly as a mentally deranged person, she informed herself crisply. But she had won; she understood that. They were going. Somehow she had gained ground, even if it was only an inch of the mile she needed to go.

More than once during those hectic two hours of packing and organizing Kyle started to say something. She didn’t give him a chance. She played roadrunner in tennis shoes, chattering as if nothing could possibly be wrong, worrying aloud about every detail. She didn’t want him to bring up Morgan, not until she had him alone, in a place where he would have to listen. In the meantime, all she wanted was to keep Kyle off-balance. How could he possibly imagine an unfaithful wife, when a chattering magpie was carting a cat around and handing him tennis shoes?

He gave up trying to talk, and finished the packing and other details with a silent, cold efficiency that would have won praise from a computer. She thought unhappily that she could read his mind. All along they had regarded their mini-vacation as a chance to go to a private place to have time to talk seriously about where they stood with each other. What he believed had happened with Morgan didn’t change that. They needed to talk-badly. He no longer cared where.

Neither of them mentioned that Morgan’s car and trailer were gone. Erica barely took time to breathe; they had to be packed and on their way by nine-thirty. When Kyle’s foot pressed on the accelerator to get them to the airport on time, she felt a strange rush of exhilaration, of relief. She knew he’d wanted to walk away, but he hadn’t; it made her believe all over again there was something to fight for. Her heart snatched at that mood and held it until they reached the airport.

A very few minutes later, they were standing in front of the plane. It resembled a shiny white toy in the morning sun, with a dozen shiny dials that would have caught a child’s eye.

“You’ve forgotten?” Kyle questioned. “Just step on the mark on the wing.”

The wing dipped as Erica put her weight on it. “I’ll bet this thing runs by remote control at a baby airport,” she marveled aloud.

For the first time all morning, she saw him give a hint of a smile. “Now don’t tell me you’re nervous. You’ve flown in dozens of these.”

“A while back. I loved carnival rides as a kid, too.” She felt a gentle swat on her bottom that pleased her enormously. He was trying, and no matter what his feelings, she knew he wouldn’t allow them to affect his concentration while he was at the controls. Kyle had earned his license a long time ago through Morgan’s father. Flying freight runs paid good money when he was in school. Afterward, Mr. Shane had been both disappointed and a little angry when Kyle refused to join him, preferring to go into business for himself. Morgan’s father had wanted Kyle more than he’d wanted his own son in the business…but at the moment all Erica could think of was how long it had been since she’d actually flown in one of these little puddle jumpers. Kyle was stowing sleeping bags, totes, a food box, tent, first-aid kit… When he was done, he just looked at her, and there was a second smile. “I think we should have hired a seven-forty-seven.”

“Listen here. I expected a lot of praise for packing so light-”

“You did, Erica. You packed lightly for snow, rain, tropical conditions, illness, health, starvation, plague, snakebite…” He vaulted lightly into the seat beside her. “You even remembered to put on a blouse.”

She thought he was giving the little white camisole a lot of status. Nevertheless, she smiled. His door was closing; they were going. Kyle started the plane’s engine and she could feel a thrill of anticipation in her stomach. He held up the mike to announce his departure to the terminal, and let the engine rev for a moment as he handed her a stick of gum.

“Thank you. By the way, you do remember how to fly one of these?” she asked blandly. “It’s been a few years…”

“You are nervous.”

“I’m not. Really. You know what you’re doing,” she said easily.

“Fine. Do you want to tell me what the hell you’re doing, Erica?”

Somehow they were no longer talking about planes. “Do you really want to know?” she asked absently.

“Yes.” The word was short, succinct and chill.

She took a breath, looking at him painfully. “Shaking inside, Kyle.” So much for prepared speeches.

“Erica…” He ran a rough hand through the hair at his neck, all anger and impatience. In that quick silence, she sat frozen, but when he finally turned to her there was a half-smile on his lips. “You can stop shaking.”

“All right.”

“We’re going to have a nice easy flight. Lots to see. Neither of us will worry about anything while we’re in the air.”

“All right.”

He sighed, leaning back. “So buckle up.”

She buckled up.

“Put the smile back on. A real one.”

The smile hovered, became real when he reached over to kiss her mouth. A minute later, the plane trembled as Kyle forced power to the engine, anticipating takeoff. Very few minutes after that it was gliding down the runway, then up. She could feel everything, every vibration, every hum, in the little Cessna. It was a sensual feeling, almost as if she had a bird’s freedom to fly.

They were both quiet for a time, simply taking in the landscape as Kyle piloted the Cessna toward Wisconsin’s generously harbored shore on Lake Michigan. Along the way, the rich-colored earth and forests intrigued Erica. From the air, the small country towns seemed to pop out of nowhere, as if pioneers had just cleared the forests yesterday to make room for them and their fields and buildings. But when Lake Michigan suddenly spread across the whole eastern horizon, she could not hold back an audible gasp of pleasure.

Kyle’s hand suddenly covered hers. She just looked at him.

“You like that little pond down there?”

She chuckled. “I’ve seen smaller.” He didn’t let her hand go until her fingers relaxed in his. The contact seemed to soothe some of his own taut feelings, because he talked more easily then.

As they flew, hugging the coast, Kyle identified for her the wealth of cargoes in the freighters below-iron and iron ore, copper and steel, cars and automotive products, wheat. Erica found herself leaning forward, trying to hear above the hum of the plane’s engine. She had never associated the world of business with the water, yet the congestion below was not unlike a city’s hustle and bustle. Fortunes were being carted in every direction, the very basics of modern life: fuel, food and transportation.

“I read somewhere that the Great Lakes contain sixty-seven trillion gallons of water,” Kyle said idly. “Would you like to tell me why that crazy figure stuck in my head all these years?”

“You had a mean fifth-grade geography teacher?”

He grinned. “I did at that. But her scare tactics must have been worth something; I’ve still got the statistics. The lakes take up some ninety-five-thousand square miles-God almighty, there’s the Wilfred Sykes.”

“Pardon?”

Kyle motioned below to a huge ship. “It’s the biggest ship ever to travel on fresh water, capacity of more than twenty tons-”

“Come on, Kyle. I don’t even see how you can identify what ship it is. I mean, I can see it’s huge, but…”

Kyle grinned, and the next thing Erica knew she was thrown forward in her seat as Kyle nose-dived to zoom in closer. Wilfred Sykes was printed on the side of the huge ship, and Erica’s stomach did a somersault.

“See?” he questioned.

“Yes. Thank you, Kyle. Remind me never to doubt you again,” she said dryly.

In another twenty minutes, they were soaring toward Green Bay. “Its original name was Bay of the Stinkers.” Kyle tossed the comment to her.

“I beg your pardon.”