Ryan turned to her and she saw her reflection in his shades. “What do you say, want to go?”
She looked at him a long moment. “I’ll think about it.”
“Is that a solid maybe? People who have flown with me say I’m a damn good pilot. Even Gunnar says so.” Ryan pulled the towel from around his neck and wiped his face.
How could wiping sweat be sexy and how was she not supposed to notice? She dropped her gaze to her watch. “Everyone says that when they’re back on the ground in one piece.” If Gunnar went along, she’d be one of the guys like on a fire crew. She was good with it.
“No worries. I’m Mister Safety.” He’d thrown down the gauntlet.
Not that she was apprehensive going alone with Ryan, but the thought did flutter her insides.
Who wouldn’t want an up close and personal tour of the tallest peak in North America? She wanted to go but didn’t want to freak out doing it. Ryan was a stickler for safety, so who better to go with? They’ll land on a glacier! How many can say they’ve done that?
“Told you, I’m not afraid. What time?” She stared at him, duck-paddling about where she could lay fast hands on some Xanax.
“I’m ending class early so people can prepare for tomorrow’s pack test. Be at the back door of the barracks at half past three. Mel will shuttle us.”
“Okay.” Heart clamoring, she wondered if she was more terrified to fly or more thrilled at his invitation.
“Bring your camera with lots of juice.” He reached the door to the barracks and held it open.
“Thanks.” She clambered up the steps and grinned at him as she bolted for her room.
Angela roused as Tara burst into their room, peeling off her damp, sweaty clothes and tossing them on her bed. Was she foolish for agreeing to this? Despite her trepidation about flying, windmills spun in her chest.
“Good morning,” called Tara, stepping into the shower.
“Mornin’ sunshine. Do we have water this morning?” Angela rubbed her eyes.
Tara turned the handle and tested the spray. “We sure do.” She smiled, letting water massage her as she unraveled her thick braid.
She may be anxious about flying, but after all…she was still an adrenaline junkie at heart.
Ryan appreciated that Gunnar had planned an action-packed day for training. Since the weather was decent, they moved the class out to the lawn, pausing their talks for loud planes and helicopters. Ryan ran the trainees through their paces with on-the-spot Shake-N-Bake drills to deploy fire shelters.
During lunch, Ryan confirmed his reservation with Caribou Aviation to rent the Cessna Skyplane 182; the same plane he’d learned to fly and had flown several times into the Alaska Range. He looked forward to being in the air again.
He ended class early, hearing no complaints. The corner of his eye caught Tara hurrying to the barracks, and he brightened. He ticked off an inventory of the gear he’ll take as he headed to the barracks, with one eye on Denali, daring her to weather in. He’d be disappointed if clouds filled in the mountain passes and they’d have to turn around. He wasn’t certified for IFR—Instrument Flight Rules, relying only on instruments to guide him between the mountains if they weathered in.
Once in his room, Ryan changed into a dark North Face pullover, cargo pants, and his Caribou Aviation baseball cap. He grabbed his leather flight jacket and tossed aviator shades in a day pack, with water, snacks, and other safety gear.
A knock at the door. He swung it open to Gunnar, looking guilty. “Bro, can we go another day? Can’t today.”
“You’re canceling on me? Geez, Gunns, the plane is only available today. Next week we’ll be jumping fire.”
“My cousins are in town on a Princess tour. They’re leaving for Anchorage tomorrow. Sorry for the short notice.” He gave Ryan an apologetic smile.
Ryan shrugged. “Well okay, but now I can’t take you till after fire season.”
“Still going today?”
Delight replaced disappointment, but he hid it from his jump partner. “Yep, need the flight hours.” He debated telling Gunnar he’d invited another passenger. Nah. Let him think he’d be lonesome as hell.
“Sorry bro.” Gunnar backed out the door. “Have a good flight.”
“I’ll try.” Grinning to himself, Ryan grabbed his gear and headed behind the barracks, where Mel and Tara stood talking next to the box van. As he approached her, he assessed. Jeans, athletic shoes, and a T-shirt were not enough for winter conditions.
“Better grab a warm jacket and hiking boots if you have them. It’s ninety-two degrees here, but where we’re going, it’s sixty degrees cooler. Think January.”
Tara studied his leather jacket and heavy boots. Her eyes grew big. “Sixty degrees? Hold on a minute.” She scooted back into the barracks.
Ryan tossed his day pack on the back seat of the van before hauling himself in beside it. “Tara can ride up front.”
“How did you talk her into flying with you when you just met her?” Mel leaned against the driver’s side door and repositioned his baseball cap. He pulled out his Copenhagen and grimaced at the empty can. Sighing, he tucked it under the worn circle in the pocket of his jeans.
“I’m naturally charming, I guess.”
Mel snapped his head up. “Don’t give me that aw shucks bullshit. You smokejumpers are all about procedure.”
Ryan thought of his Incident Action Plan to date Tara. He knew Mel was dead right about that as he watched Tara skip down the steps to the van. He could watch her all day. And he had. Control yourself. Keep it professional.
She peeked in the open passenger door. “Where’s Gunnar?”
“He canceled. His cousins are in town.” Ryan gauged her reaction.
“Oh, too bad. Geez.” She seemed genuinely disappointed. Maybe she’d agreed to go because Gunnar was going. She gave him a polite smile. “Okay if I ride shotgun?”
“It’s all yours.” Ryan looked forward to spending time with her but hoped it wasn’t obvious.
“Thanks.” She slipped into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Mel
