“A log cabin? I’m still surprised seeing houses instead of igloos. Before this, the furthest north I’d ever been was the Calgary Stampede.”
He laughed. “Now there’s a rocking time. After a fire in Alberta a few years back, we partied at the stampede with the Zulies.”
Smokejumpers were a bonded brotherhood and most of them knew each other across the western states. Had Ryan and Travis partied together? The thought made her cringe. Some things I’m better without knowing.
“Where’s your cabin?” asked Tara.
“North of Fairbanks. A jumper made me a deal. He raved about the sweeping views and riverfront access. Bought it sight unseen.”
“Why would you buy property you’ve never seen?”
“He texted photos. I like to fly fish, so it was a no brainer. He was motivated to sell—got a girl pregnant and needed cash. I lowballed him to the point I felt guilty.”
“That’s great. Not the guilty part, I mean the part where you got a good deal.”
“Lucked out on that one.” Ryan’s passion for the last frontier was evident. He closed the cargo door and twisted the handle.
“Let’s get airborne.”
“Alrighty.” She forced a smile to mask the terror knocking around in her gut.
“First, part one of the Ryan O’Connor no fear program.” He reached in the pilot’s seat and handed her a clipboard. “This is my pre-flight checklist.”
She smiled, amused he was never without a clipboard. Too jittery to read anything, she gave it a once over and handed it back. “Looks good.”
“I’m all about safety and prevention. Just like firefighting.” He removed his sunglasses and they dangled on his chest. Tossing the clipboard on his seat, he rested his hand on the fuselage. “What scares you about flying?”
“I don’t know. A mechanical failure or severe weather conditions, I suppose.”
His sapphire gaze steadied on her. “But what scares you?”
Her pulse picked up. “I don’t want to fall…” She exhaled and glanced toward Denali. “I don’t want to fall out of the sky.” What she almost said was, I don’t want to fall for you.
“You know how safety conscious I am. I nag all of you constantly in training.”
His words calmed her some but didn’t rid her anxiety about being in the air.
“We fear what we can’t control. Do you trust me?” He angled his head, smiling.
Travis asked her the same thing when she’d heard about his cheating. Only he had twisted it into a wrongful accusation of, don’t you trust me?
She looked straight at him and her skin tingled. “Yes. I trust you.”
His face softened. “Good. The mind is a powerful thing. Think of what makes you happy.”
She stared at him, tongue-tied. What makes her happy? I’ve lost those things.
“On second thought.” He jerked his head toward the Cessna. “Let’s get in the plane.”
She breathed relief after he put her on the spot. “Unicorns farting rainbows. Lying on a beach somewhere.”
“There you go.” Ryan grinned and opened the passenger door. “Climb aboard.”
She stepped up and hoisted herself into the cushioned seat. He closed the door and secured it.
She watched his easy gait as he rounded the nose to the pilot side. A slight breeze teased his hair when he opened the door and tossed his leather jacket in the back seat.
Her heart pulsed like a petrified rabbit at the thought of liftoff. She prayed she wouldn’t barf in this beautiful, expensive plane. She slipped a hand to her stomach.
What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter 11
Tara scrutinized the six colorful monitors stretching across the flight panel while Ryan ran his pre-flight checks. She clasped her seat belt and tried to slow her breathing.
He offered her a black and dark-green headset with an adjustable mic. “Put this on and think happy thoughts.”
She eased on the headset and her hands trembled as she tried to tighten it. “Someone had a huge head.”
Ryan’s mouth twitched as he leaned in to help her. “How’s that?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He replaced his sunglasses with aviator shades, adjusted his headset, and positioned his mic. “Hear me okay?”
His even baritone streamed into her head and she liked him there.
“Yes,” she said, positioning her mic.
Ryan looked regal in that pilot seat, with his aviator shades and headset. She boomeranged between his heat and her dread of zooming through the air in a fiberglass tube with only a flimsy stick to hold it up. But her trepidation soon overtook all thoughts of attraction to the pilot. She swallowed hard.
“I’m required to follow certain protocols flying into Denali. I filed a flight plan with the Talkeetna Flight Service Station.” He showed her a topographic map of Denali Park and slid a little finger along the route. “We’ll follow the Parks Highway, then head northwest along The Great Gorge over Ruth Glacier. We’ll land in the Ruth Amphitheatre. Sound good?”
“Yep.” It was all Greek to her. She tensed. “What do you want me to do?”
“Enjoy the scenery. Take photos.” He flipped switches on the instrument panel with a self-assured cadence she found comforting.
“I’ll point out the landmarks.” His smooth, rich voice floated in. “Copy?”
She forced a close-mouthed smile. “Copy.”
“Weather reports say calm winds. But Denali’s weather can change in an Anchorage minute. If that happens, we’ll turn around.” He placed one hand on the control wheel and the other on the throttle. “Got your camera ready?”
Tara raised the digital Nikon with her sweaty palm, her hand shaking. As the solitary propeller spun into a whirring fan, her heart knocked. She visualized it bursting free of her chest and splatting on the windshield. I’ve watched too many sci-fi movies.
“Prepare for takeoff.” Ryan mimicked a commercial pilot’s tone, but sheer terror prevented her from cracking a smile as her innards turned inside out.
He taxied the plane to the end of the runway and made a slow turn. The engine powered up for rollout and the plane gained speed. The ground fell away. Braided river
