her go, then brought his gaze back to Jackson. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. If Maxie could appear casual about the arrangements, then so could he.
“Not a room available anywhere, flyboy, so what will it be? Maxine’s—” Jackson’s lips curved “—or the back seat of your chopper?”
Still Kyle fought the inevitable. “I could sleep here.” He’d seen four cots in a small room at the back of the station. And it was a tremendous waste of fuel to head home each night and get here when, and if, they needed him.
Jackson shook his head. “For the team on call, sorry.”
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck and muttered a curse. “Not much of a selection left, then, huh?”
Jackson fought a grin and ever the diplomat, gestured inside the office. “Let’s get you some gear.”
Kyle followed. Jackson Temple was his boss for the next week or two, and although they’d only met earlier this morning, before seeing Maxie, Kyle liked him.
Kyle stood back as Jackson went to the cabinet and threw open the doors, withdrawing coils of nylon rope, extra rigs for mountain climbing, medical kits, a hand radio, a booklet of rules and regulations, authorization passes and stickers and the standard flame orange jacket the crew wore, fur lined and heavy. He stacked the gear on the sofa. “Check the radio—we’ve had a couple of duds lately.”
Kyle did, then started arranging the equipment in a spare duffel bag while Jackson wrote “Hayden” on a plastic tag and slipped it into the clear window above the chest pocket of the orange jacket.
“Thanks for showing up, Hayden,” he said, offering the jacket. Kyle looked up, accepting it, frowning. Jackson shrugged, then moved to the coffeemaker and poured a cup. “We’re badly shorthanded, with the flu going around. I appreciate your loan of the chopper.” He handed the steaming mug to Kyle. “I know this cuts into your paying business.”
“Just so you know, no one flies her but me.”
Jackson grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Possessive, huh?”
Kyle sipped. “Yeah, me and the bank are that way about things that aren’t paid for.” He set the cup aside to load gear.
Jackson chuckled, dropping into the seat behind the desk. He propped his boots on the edge. “So...how long have you known Maxine?”
Kyle stilled, frowning, then jammed ropes into the corner of the duffel. Maxine. He hadn’t heard anyone call her that since her father was yelling at her to come home, and she was ignoring him, riding away on the back of Kyle’s motorcycle.
“Years.”
Jackson frowned. “How many exactly?”
“Eight or so.” Kyle shrugged, zipping the bag closed. He met Jackson’s gaze. “You?”
“‘Bout three, ever since she an—ah...moved up here. And no, we’re just friends.” He sent Kyle a look that said dating Maxie was robbing the cradle in his eyes. “’Sides. No one gets near Maxine unless she wants it.”
Kyle knew that The woman he’d met today was a shadow of the Maxie he had loved. He insisted he didn’t care if she was cold. He just wanted to fulfill his obligation and get out of here. And avoiding her was his preference.
Kyle took up his mug and sank into the sofa, sipping, his gaze on the window. Maxie was climbing behind the wheel of her Range Rover and driving away.
“You two got a serious history, huh?”
Kyle’s lips tightened. He wasn’t about to let his personal life become the rescue-watch joke of the day. “Just a history. There’s got to be a room available somewhere else...?” He was a backup chopper pilot, nothing more. And if he didn’t have to be here, he for damn sure wouldn’t He looked to Jackson.
“Sorry, no.” Kyle didn’t care for the twinkle in Jackson’s eyes just then. “Now, get your chopper off my triage pad, Hayden. It stays at the Wind Dancer until you’re needed.”
Kyle didn’t like this, yet stood and hefted the duffel full of gear.
“Have fun.”
Kyle glared at Jackson. The man grinned back.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Probably more if I knew what it was all about—” he shrugged “—but yeah. I haven’t seen any excitement in months. You know, people being cautious. Obeying the rules. Puts me out of a job.”
Kyle couldn’t fight the smile working out from beneath his scowl. “Call if you need me,” he said, holding out his hand. Jackson shook it, and the two men parted.
Kyle took his time and walked outside, shrugging deeper into his jacket and donning his gloves against the cold. The wind whistled softly, but the temperature was dropping. Not any more than when he was near Maxie, he thought, tossing the emergency gear next to his seabag in the chopper, then climbing inside. He stared at the control panel, delaying the inevitable and disgusted with the fates that were screwing with his perfectly ordered life. Checking the dials and his watch, he refitted his sunglasses for the third time before turning over the engine, the blades swiping the air, gaining speed with each turn. Adjusting his radio headset, Kyle waited until he had the ground crewman’s signal, then lifted off, tipping the chopper to the right and heading toward Maxie’s place. He was anxious and if he had to admit it, fearful. It was too much like Iraq, flying into a hot landing zone. But Kyle had an idea that living under the same roof with the only woman he’d ever wanted to marry would be like living under enemy gunfire. With him unarmed.
A half hour later, Maxie watched his approach from the steps of her front porch. His helicopter was black with a sunrise painted on the side in bright red, orange and metallic gold. His name was stenciled below the pilot’s window. Before he was close enough to set the chopper down, she stepped off the porch, walking toward the flattened ground several hundred yards beyond the main buildings. Dread moved through her with every step, and she tipped her cowboy hat low on her forehead and tried to appear as relaxed as possible. But her insides were twisting in tight knots, nauseating her.
This is for Mimi, she reminded herself. If Maxie avoided Kyle, he would just get curious and ask questions, which would inevitably lead to ones concerning Mimi. For the briefest moment, when she’d first seen Kyle after so long, she’d considered stashing Mimi’s things, closing off her room and letting her daughter stay longer at her grandmother’s to avoid any contact with him. But the thought had died as quickly as it had formed. She couldn’t do it. Mimi was everything to her, and she was proud of her little girl. She had had no reason to hide her six years ago and she wouldn’t do it now. Besides, Kyle had made it clear by not answering her letters that he’d no interest in what happened to her after their breakup, and if his present attitude was any indication, he still didn’t Nothing had changed.
Suddenly the image of her daughter—dark red hair in braided pigtails and bright, expressive green eyes-burst in her mind, like Mimi always burst into the house. No, she corrected, everything had changed from the moment she’d met her daughter. I miss her, she thought, then stiffened her spine, determined to get through the next couple weeks without any more emotional scratches.
Dust and dirt kicked up as the chopper neared, and she admitted she was impressed at how he lowered the craft gracefully to the ground. The noise immediately lessened, the blades beating the air in a slow drone. Maxie stopped, shoving her gloved hands into her jacket pockets, and didn’t approach as he flipped switches, then removed the radio headset and a baseball cap. Even from here, she could tell the cap had the Marine Corps emblem on it. He pushed open the door and climbed out, opened the rear hatch and removed his seabag. That faded piece of military luggage was a constant reminder of their last night together. She wanted to burn it, but he hitched it over his shoulder, then reached for a black cowboy hat, donning it as he walked toward her. Her heart jumped in her chest, her gaze moving over him. Even hidden behind sunglasses