CHAPTER THREE
R UBY HAD TAKEN OVER THE CONTROLS . W ITH THE STICK AND FOOT pedals, she kept the plane stable while her father, wearing parachute gear, climbed out of the cockpit and onto the lower wing. This was the most dangerous part of the stunt, when the wrong move on her part could throw him off before he was in position. She gripped the stick, balancing the pedal bar and holding steady.
Grasping a strut for support, he dropped to a crouch and hurled himself into space. When she knew he was clear, she banked the plane, turning it around for the long descent to the field. A downward glance confirmed that her father’s war surplus parachute had opened. It floated below like a billowing white blossom, growing smaller with distance. Now it would be up to her to land the plane.
Ruby flew with more confidence when her father wasn’t with her. The awareness that he was watching her every move and that his survival, along with her own, was in her hands, tended to make her nervous. Flying alone, with the wind sweeping past her face and the engine throbbing in her ears, she felt a rare sense of freedom, as if nothing mattered except the moment, not even her life.
She had married her childhood sweetheart, Brandon Weaver, trusting that their love would give them a lifetime of happiness together. Then the war had come. That great and noble cause had taken her beloved husband and returned a stranger, scarred and blistered by mustard gas, which had done as much damage to the inside of his body as to the outside. After many months in an army hospital, he’d been released to come home to her in Missoula. Ruby had done everything in her power to make him feel loved and valued. But she had fought a losing battle. Depression had eaten away his will to live. She’d come home from running errands one day to find his body hanging from a rafter in their barn.
Days later, Ruby had lost the baby she was carrying. For months afterward, she hadn’t cared whether she lived or died.
It had taken her widowed father to rouse her from her fog of pain, guilt, sleeping powders, and laudanum. He had nursed her back to health and brought her with him into the sky. Flying had probably saved her life. But the darkness was still there, deep inside, where she kept it hidden.
Maybe that was why she hadn’t said no last night when he’d told her about his latest “business opportunity.” A few days earlier, a prosperous-looking friend from his past had approached him after one of the air shows and taken him aside for a private talk. Only last night had Ruby learned what the man had in mind. He and a group of associates were looking for pilots to deliver their product by air. Ruby didn’t need to ask what that product would be.
“Think about it, Ruby.” Her father’s eyes had shone with an excitement Ruby hadn’t seen in years. “The pay for one delivery would be more than we’re making in a month of air shows. We could have a real home somewhere. No more living on the road. If the arrangement works out, they’ll even buy me a bigger plane to carry more weight.”
“But what about the revenuers? What if we get caught?” Ruby had demanded. “We could end up going to prison.”
“I’m aware of the risk. That’s why there’ll be no ‘we’ in this venture. I’ll be making the runs alone. I’m not getting any younger, girl. If anything happens to me, I don’t want to leave you with nothing.”
Ruby had stood firm. “You know I won’t go along with that, Dad. If you decide to get into this business, I’ll be right there with you. That’s the only arrangement I’ll accept. Think about that before you say yes to your friends.”
Ruby had hoped her stand would dissuade him. But something told her that Art Murchison had already made up his mind. It was time to prepare for whatever was to happen next.
Now, as the plane descended, she could see the field below. Her father had landed safely and was keeping the crowd back to clear the way for her landing.
Calm and in control, she aligned the plane’s path with the improvised landing strip and glided earthward. She felt the bump as the wheels touched down and rumbled over the uneven ground. Her thundering pulse eased as she taxied the plane across the field to where her father stood, with the crowd waiting behind him.
After switching off the engine, she climbed out of the cockpit, lifted away her goggles, and pulled off her helmet. Her sweat-dampened hair tumbled loose in the light breeze. She had finished piloting the plane for the day. Her father would fly the paid rides while she packed the parachute and kept an eye on the thinning crowd.
Most of the people who’d come for the show but lacked the desire or the cash for a plane ride were leaving. Only a handful stayed to watch the four brave souls—three younger men and a tall, plain-looking, blond woman—queue up for their fifteen-minute flight.
The man at the front of the line was talking to Ruby’s father. They seemed to be arguing about something. As Ruby left the plane and walked closer, she recognized him—tall and handsome with chestnut hair, mocking green eyes, and a broken nose that gave him a rakish look. She’d had to ask him twice to hold out his hand for the stamp. When their eyes had met, she’d felt a subtle tension, an unvoiced challenge.
Seeing him with her father, she felt it again. Something in the man’s looks and manner whispered trouble.
“Ruby, this gentleman has a special request,” her father said. “He has a coupon for a free plane ride. But he’s offering to pay double the regular price if you’ll be his pilot. I told him that would be up to you.”
Ruby hesitated. She’d never taken a passenger up before, and there was something unsettling about the man. “What if I say no?” she asked her father.
“Then I’ll accept his coupon and give him his free ride if he still wants it,” Art said.
Ruby sighed. Eight dollars was enough to pay for their meals and rooms in Miles City, where they’d be spending the night. Still, she hesitated.
“Why would you pay extra for me?” she demanded, speaking to the stranger for the first time. “My father’s a much more experienced pilot. I don’t have my license yet. It probably isn’t even legal for me to fly with a passenger.”
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 . . .
She felt a jarring crunch as the wheels touched the bumpy ground, then an upward bounce, followed by another crunch. The wheels rumbled over rocks and badger holes, coming to a halt a few yards short of the junipers and sage clumps that would have slashed the plane’s fuselage to ribbons.
When the forward motion stopped, Ruby unfastened her seat belt and climbed out onto the wing. Her passenger was stirring. He appeared unhurt, but first things first. After jumping to the ground, she found a hefty rock to block one wheel and keep the plane from rolling. Then, pulling off her helmet and goggles, she turned and waved her arms to signal that she was all right. Her father had already started across the field with his tool kit.
Ruby’s passenger had climbed out of the plane and vanished into the brush, probably to relieve himself. Standing by the plane, she weighed the idea of climbing onto the wing to raise the cowling doors and peer into the engine. She was a fair hand with a spanner. Maybe with a bit of tinkering, she could find the problem that had caused the engine to quit.
But no, minutes from now, her father would be here. Art Murchison was a master mechanic. Unless the trouble was major, like a broken part, he would tighten a few nuts, check the belts, make some adjustments, and have the engine working in no time.
“That was quite a performance, lady!”
Startled, Ruby wheeled to face her passenger. He was standing a few steps behind her, the helmet and goggles in his hands. His mocking grin showed a slightly chipped front tooth.
“I hope you got your money’s worth,” she said. “I was afraid you might be terrified.”
“Terrified?” He chuckled. “I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun. If you were trying to scare me, it didn’t work.”
“Trying to scare you?” She gaped at him, scarcely believing her ears. “ Trying to scare you?”
“Like when you shut down the engine and coasted to the field. I’ve been on some wild carnival rides in my time, but that tops them all.”
“ When I shut down the engine? ” Did the insufferable man think she’d done it on purpose? Fury welled in her, like a pot boiling over on a hot stove. She barely stopped herself from slapping his insolent face. “Listen, you fool! I didn’t lose engine power to entertain you! The danger was real. We could have died if I hadn’t—”
Ruby broke off as she noticed the deepening dimple in his cheek. He was struggling not to laugh at her. That was when she realized she’d just been played.
Her hand balled into a fist. “Why, you insufferable—”
She might have punched him or at least finished her sentence, but just then her father arrived on the scene.
“Are you all right?” He directed the question at the man, but it was Ruby who answered.
“He’s fine, Dad. But if you ask me to do that again, I’ll tell you no. I said I wasn’t ready, and I was right.”
“You brought the plane down to a safe landing.” Her father climbed onto the wing to reach the cowling doors. “You’re closer to being ready than you think you are. Just a few more hours in the air, and you’ll be ready for your license.”
“How can you say that? It was sheer luck that I made it. I could just as easily have crashed the plane and killed two people.”
The stranger looked as if he might have something to say, but Ruby turned to him before he had a chance to speak.
“Your ride is over, mister. I trust you got your eight-dollar thrill. And since you won’t be getting a lift back to the other side of the field, you might as well start walking.”
“Understood.” The stranger thrust the helmet and goggles into her hands. “Is there anything I should tell the folks who are waiting for their rides?”
“Tell them the rides are done for the day,” Ruby said. “The ones who’ve already paid will get their money back.”
“Not so fast!” Art had the cowling doors open and was peering into the engine. “I don’t see anything broken. Could be just a blocked fuel line, or a spark plug gone bad. Tell those folks I’m working on the engine and hope to have it fixed soon.”
“I’ll pass on what you said. Thank you again for a most memorable ride, Miss Ruby.”
The sardonic note in his voice was not lost on Ruby. She bit back a sharp retort as he gave a farewell nod and strode away, headed across the field.
“Pass me that box of spark plugs, Ruby,” her father said. “And while I tinker with this engine, maybe you can explain why you were so rude to a paying customer.”
“I didn’t realize I was being rude.” She found what he needed and passed it up to him.
“Did he make a pass at you? I could tell he wanted to.”
“Heavens, no! If anything, the man was condescending, as if he thought he was better than the likes of me.” She gave a raw laugh. “Me—a woman who lives like a nomad and smells like a garage.”
“A woman who’s as smart and courageous as she is beautiful. You’re wrong, my dear. I saw the way he looked at you. A man like that, wealthy and experienced in the ways of the world, could be worth cultivating.”
“Experienced in the ways of the world? You mean, on the shady side of the law?”
“That’s not at all what I meant, Ruby. I meant cultured. The kind of man who knows the right kind of wine to order in a restaurant. A man who’s done some traveling, maybe some reading.”
“Dad, you could be describing a typical con artist.”
“Or maybe just someone who knows what he wants and how to get it. I’d just like to see you happy again, with a man who appreciates your worth. Maybe you should have been friendlier with the fellow, gotten to know him better.”
“I found him annoying. That was as much as I wanted to know.”
“Well, since he didn’t measure up to your standards, I met a man who would. While you were in the air, I was talking with Webb Calder, who owns that big ranch. He’s as rich as King Midas, and he’s a widower. Hand me that small flashlight, will you?”
Ruby found the flashlight in the tool bag. “Stop trying to match me up, Dad. I’m quite happy as I am. And Webb Calder could probably have any lady who caught his fancy. Why should he be interested in someone like me—a woman pushing thirty with no fine manners and grease under her fingernails?”
She reached up and passed him the light. “What did the two of you talk about?” she asked, shifting the subject.
“We had an interesting conversation.” Art focused the thin beam of light into the engine. “Calder agreed with me that aviation is the way of the future. He’s already looking into building an airstrip and a hangar on his ranch. He asked me what he’d need to get set up, and I told him. But I advised him to wait on the planes. The Jennies are easy to buy and operate, but the new models coming out of Europe are sturdier, faster, and more efficient—like that fleet of De Havillands the post office bought from Britain to carry the mail.”
“I take it he didn’t offer you a job,” Ruby said.
“His plans weren’t that far along, or he might have. Anyway, I’ve already got a job. We’ll be meeting with some key people tonight in Miles City. This could be a big turning point in our lives, girl.” He probed deeper into the engine. “I think I’ve found the problem. Dollars to doughnuts, it’s a speck of dirt in the fuel line. Once I get it cleared out, she’ll be running like new.”
Ruby stood back and watched him work. Art was the eternal optimist, always cheerful, always counting on the luckiest outcome. But life had taught Ruby that nothing was guaranteed, and that heartbreak was just as likely as the rainbow around the bend.
Looking back over the field, she saw that her passenger’s long legs had carried him all the way across to the far side. He must have been moving fast, as if he had somewhere urgent to go.
Up there in the sky, they had faced death together. Afterward, he’d made a joke of the experience, as if that sort of thing happened to him every day. Ruby had never learned the intriguing stranger’s name. But that didn’t matter. He was already gone from her life.
* * *
The four people who’d lined up for rides were still waiting at the edge of the field. Mason had agreed to pass on the message that the engine would soon be repaired. But additional flights could still be risky. Any passenger who climbed into that cockpit would be taking their life in their hands. He owed them the truth.
The first two in line were cowboys that Mason didn’t recognize. Next to them stood Britta—what a surprise. Mason would never have guessed the woman had an adventurous streak. He was about to speak to her when she silenced him with a sharp look.
Standing a few paces behind her, his gaze fixed on the plane, was Joseph.
Mason would have known his son anywhere. Joseph had been a boy of fourteen when they’d last met. He was inches taller now, still filling out through the chest and shoulders. With his rangy frame and dark hair, he resembled his late grandfather, Joe Dollarhide, Mason’s father, who’d founded the family dynasty and built the rambling log home on the bluff overlooking the valley.
In his younger years, Mason had spent time with his father’s second family, sharing good memories with Joe, his wife, Sarah, and their children, Blake and Kristin. But over the years, alienation had taken root and grown bitter. Now, for Mason, seeing Joseph was like seeing a younger version of Joe Dollarhide—the man he remembered from his childhood.
He felt a firm hand on his arm as Britta guided him out of hearing, behind a row of parked autos. The blue eyes that leveled with his own were like tempered steel. “I told you to leave Joseph alone, Mason,” she said. “He doesn’t need you in his life.”
“I understand, Britta. I already said I’d respect the family’s wishes. But I didn’t expect to see him today. What’s he doing here?”
“If you must know, Joseph is crazy to fly. He’s never been up in a plane, but all he talks about is wanting to become a pilot. No one could have stopped him from coming here today.”
“I can imagine how Blake must feel about that. But what about you? Are you planning to switch careers?”
“Hardly.” She lowered her gaze a moment, looking almost like a wistful young girl. “Don’t laugh. I’ve spent most of my life looking after others—my family, my students. I’ve never had a real adventure. I thought maybe it was time.”
“So you brought Joseph along?”
“No. I came by myself. He just showed up, and I couldn’t make him leave. All I could do was make him promise that he’d let me go first, to make sure the plane was safe. If I decide the ride is too dangerous, then I won’t allow the pilot to take him.”
“Then you need to hear what I came to say. That plane is a death trap. The engine quit while we were in the air. The woman who was at the controls couldn’t start it again, so she had to glide to a landing. It was scary as hell. We could have crashed. You need to tell Joseph and those two cowboys.”
Britta turned away, shaded her eyes, and looked out across the field. Following the line of her gaze, he saw the plane, its propeller a spinning blur, taxiing over the ground. The two cowboys were nowhere in sight. Joseph stood alone, waiting at the field’s edge.