behind her. Stepping to the side of the road, she stopped. It was the chase truck. Rafael was driving. He stopped even with her and looked at her through the passenger side window.
“You walking home?” he asked easily.
She shook her head and opened the door. Climbing in, she looked at him.
“I was just walking. Has it been ten minutes?” She wasn’t wearing a watch, but surely she hadn’t been gone that long.
“Nine. We’ll be back in a sec and take off again.”
“Did you really think I’d try to walk away?” she asked. She hated being his partner, but she would not let him down, because she was starting to believe her boss needed taking down a peg or two.
“No. But if you twisted your ankle or something, it would have been hard for you to get back. Feeling better for the walk?”
“Yes,” she said.
It took only a moment to return to the balloon. Maria had a phone to her ear. When she saw the truck, she said something to Paolo and then headed to meet Rafael.
Amalia hopped out of the truck and watched as Maria came up to Rafael.
“The office is trying to reach you,” she said, holding out the phone.
Rafael took it. “Make it quick,” he said. A moment later he bit out an epithet. “Under no circumstances tell her you’ve talked to me. If she calls again, tell her you’ll relay the message and that’s all. Put Jaime on the phone.” Rafael walked away talking to the man on the other end.
Maria grinned at Amalia and said, “Girlfriend troubles.”
“Teresa Valesquez?”
“Yes, she keeps calling. I think Sophie is getting fed up with all the messages she’s left. Guess now Miss High and Mighty wishes she hadn’t thrown away her chance for the long jump after all. Though she was not a ballooner—you never heard such complaining!”
Amalia vowed to keep her own thoughts about ballooning to herself. She may not like it, but she wanted to give no cause for gossip.
Rafael was impatient to begin the ride. Amalia scanned the sky. There was no sign of the other balloon. Maybe they would maintain their lead.
Once in the basket and beginning to lift, she asked Rafael, “Do you think Stefano will have reporters there again tonight?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Rafael said, eyeing the balloon. Amalia was not able to judge their rate of ascent since she kept her eyes inside the basket and had nothing to gauge it by. She enjoyed watching Rafael when he was concentrating on something else.
When he turned off the burners, she looked around. Still no sign of Stefano’s balloon.
“So we got a jump on him this leg,” she murmured.
“Enough to keep the lead, I hope.”
Amalia stood in one corner and leaned against the propane tank.
Rafael took the map from one of the storage pockets and began to study it.
“Shouldn’t you be watching?” she asked.
“I’ll check it soon. You let me know if we’re going to crash into anything.”
She looked at the empty sky. They were far too high to worry about power lines, even if there had been any around. The other balloon was lifting in the distance.
“The scenery aside, there’s not much to do, is there? Are the festivals like this, too?”
Rafael shook his head and began telling her about the ones he’d attended. She liked listening to him as he talked, closing her eyes to concentrate better.
“Am I putting you to sleep?” he asked.
“No, I listen better with my eyes closed,” she said. The last thing she felt around him was tired. She could feel the heat from his body. She could smell the unique scent that would forever be imprinted in her mind as Rafael’s. Wishing she could record his voice to listen to years down the road, she smiled as he told her of the antics and contests at the festival. His description was romantic and dramatic, and surprisingly the stories did not all feature him as the star.
He fired up the jets and she opened her eyes to watch him. He was tall and slender, with broad shoulders and a tapering waist. His hair had been permanently disheveled since they started. She liked it. It made him seem that much more approachable.
By the time he switched to the last propane tank, dusk was drawing near. Rafael constantly scanned the horizon, but there was no place in sight to set down. The last thing he wanted was to have to land in the dark. There was no telling what dangers there would be.
Maria called him on the radio, the signal poor and staticky. “Lost sight of you … different direction … we can find.”
“Say again,” he replied.
“You are going in a different direction from the road. We cannot find a way to cut over. Do you see a landing site?”
“Negative.” He glanced behind him but did not see Vicente’s balloon. The man had been behind all afternoon and had probably put down at the wide area Rafael had seen about a half hour ago. He looked ahead again. Still nothing suitable.
Static again. Then “… us your GPS coordinates. We’ll find …”
Rafael glanced at the GPS device and then relayed the coordinates, saying them slowly and then repeating them.
“Got it.”
Rafael clicked off the radio and glanced at Amalia. He expected to be reproached or have her complain or say again she was frightened.
But she watched him calmly. Was that trust he saw in her eyes?
“So I’ll do the burners if you watch for a place to land,” she said, stepping close to him.
He let her hand brush against his when she reached for the lever. He was playing with fire to entertain any thoughts of getting involved with Amalia. She was content in her life and had her brother to raise. Heck, she probably didn’t even have a dress suitable for some of the places he liked to take women.
Though that would be no problem; he could buy her whatever she needed. He knew enough from the talk at social events who the leading designers were, where their gowns could be purchased. But maybe he’d take her for a weekend sail, just the two of them on the sea.
Frowning at the way his thoughts were going, he took advantage of her offer and rummaged in a side pocket for the binoculars he carried. Finding them, he began to scan the direction they were going. There had to be something opening up soon.
Had he been with one of his chase team who had experience in the balloon, he wouldn’t be as concerned. Meeting all challenges was one of the things he liked best about the sport. One couldn’t plan out as with plane flights, but meeting the unexpected and handling it was exhilarating. Or it would be, if he wasn’t constantly aware of his passenger and her fear of heights. The last thing he wanted was to give her any reason to fear during the flight.
There, in the distance, he saw an opening in the trees. He lowered the binoculars and tried to gauge how far it was and when they should start down. They had far outdistanced Vicente today. Tomorrow he’d get even farther.
In less than twenty minutes they were on the ground. Amalia jumped over the side and grabbed a tether rope. There wasn’t the need to find an anchor quickly this time, as the balloon was deflating, with nothing nearby to cause a problem.
Once the tug from the breeze died, he jumped over the side with her and took another rope, securing the basket.
“So we just stand here?” she asked.
“For a few minutes. The envelope is already almost down.”
“It’s not going to cover us, is it?”