Her Amazing Boss!. Barbara McMahon
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long legs, taking up all the available floor space. “Maybe not. But it’s worth thinking about.”
“You need to think about this balloon and keeping us up in the air,” she said, scarcely able to form two words together as the mere thought of them tangled together in lovemaking almost erased all her thought processes.
He touched her cheek lightly and then rose in one easy movement and glanced around at the gauge. A second later the jets roared to life.
Once her breathing was under control, Amalia stood and looked around. Looking out instead of down, she spotted the other balloon. It looked closer than before. Now it was slightly higher than they were.
“Clear sailing until the ambient air warms too much to make it easy to keep our altitude,” he said.
She nodded, amazed he could switch off the charm and move to dedicated racer in a heartbeat. She was still reeling from their discussion.
And wondering what it would be like to be a close, very personal, friend of Rafael’s.
Rafael switched to the last fuel canister later. He was not getting as much lift as earlier when the air temperature had been cooler. Time to begin looking for a place to stop and exchange these tanks for fresh ones. It was early afternoon. He’d already covered more distance than every day of the festival combined. The wind was steady and probably moving them more than twenty miles an hour. He estimated they’d covered more than a hundred miles.
The mountainous terrain below didn’t offer many wide meadows where there would be room to set down and let the envelope deflate without becoming tangled with trees or ground growth.
The chase crew would have replacement tanks and plenty of food, as well as the tents and bedrolls he hoped they would not have to use. If he didn’t have to rough it, he’d choose not to. On the other hand, dossing down on a sleeping bag beneath the stars was something he’d done more than once. Once they refueled they’d be off again. Long jumps were also an endurance event. He’d go for a few more miles before setting down for the night.
Amalia had not said a word for a while. She had gradually relaxed enough to doze for a few minutes but she hadn’t offered to help in any way. So much for a truce. If Vicente thought that would slow him down, the man had rocks in his head.
“We’ll be setting down soon,” Rafael said to Julio when he’d reached the chase team on the radio. He scanned the terrain for a suitable place. “Where are you?”
“You are a bit behind us and farther north. Maria has you in our sights comparing it with the topographical map. Do you see any place to set down? How far ahead of Vicente are you?”
Rafael noticed Amalia was awake now and watching him.
“His balloon set down about twenty minutes ago. I’m riding at half tank on the last one right now and would prefer to come down soon. But all I see is tree-covered hills.”
“Wait, Maria says there’s a new reservoir north of your position. Any chance you could get near that? There should be plenty of cleared space. Just don’t land in the water.”
With that Amalia rose and clutched the side of the basket, looking around. “We aren’t going to land in water, are we?”
“Can’t swim?” he asked.
“Of course I can swim, but I’m not dressed for it. What if the balloon comes down on top of us and drowns us?” she asked anxiously.
“Relax, we’re not landing in water. Often reservoirs have a lot of cleared land surrounding them, to allow for water fluctuation.” He spoke back into the radio, “I see a clearing, and a road leading to it. We’re lined up for it, I’ll try for that.”
The balloon began descending.
“We’re heading in that direction,” Manuel said.
She looked around. “Where’s the other balloon?”
“They put down already.”
“Why would they do that?”
“If he found a meadow Stefano wanted to take advantage of, he’d land. He needs fuel. So do we. Once we switch out the tanks, we’ll be good to go again.”
“Why didn’t we put down when he did?”
She’d wanted time to talk to Stefano, get him to agree to let someone else take her place. Maybe she could switch with Maria and be part of the ground crew.
He smiled at her tone. “Don’t you like to win?” he asked.
“Not if we’re risking our lives!” she snapped.
“We’re not. Relax. I promise to get you home all in one piece,” he said. He saw the reservoir. He wished he had some better way to gauge the wind rather than flying in it to see where he ended up. Experience told him if they continued at the current rate, they should reach ground about the time they reached the cleared area surrounding the water.
“When we get on the ground, one of us has to keep the envelope inflated enough to keep it from tangling with the trees. The other has to jump out with a rope and secure the basket to the ground. Which task do you want?” he asked.
“Neither,” she said, glancing around as if looking for a third alternative.
“I need your help in this, Amalia,” he said. “This is no time to argue. We’ll be on the ground, so your phobia about height shouldn’t get in the way.”
She glanced up at the balloon overhead. “I can’t keep it properly inflated. I’ll try to tie the rope.”
“Don’t try, do.”
She glared at him. “Just tell me how I’m supposed to do that and I’ll do my best. I am not here to sabotage your blasted race. Though if something happened, I’d sure get home sooner.”
“Don’t even think it.”
She looked away. Her anger seemed to drive away her fear.
He gave her directions, keeping an eye on the rapidly approaching clearing. It was going to be a bit more tricky than he liked—especially with a novice on board. But unexpected challenges were what made the race interesting.
In less than ten minutes he set the basket down right at the edge of the clearing at least a dozen feet or more from the water’s edge. As soon as it hit the ground he yelled at Amalia to jump off and grab one of the tethering ropes. She used the step in the side to scramble over the edge and he heard her land, then jump to her feet and pull on the rope.
“There’s nothing here to tie it to. If you lift off, I’m letting go,” she called.
He could just see her over the edge of the basket. It skidded along the ground for a few feet. He glanced at the balloon. He wanted to keep it as inflated as possible for quick rising once the tanks were switched, but not so much it pulled against the basket while they were on the ground. He didn’t want to skid across the ground, but couldn’t let the envelope collapse all the way, or they’d take valuable minutes reinflating it.
“Wait, there’s a stump sticking up. It’s a big one, maybe too big for the rope to go around.” Her voice faded as she disappeared from view. He looked over the edge. She was winding the rope tightly around a stump. If she didn’t secure it just right, it could slip off. Frustrated, Rafael wanted to jump off and do it himself, but it would be a stupid move to leave the balloon unmanned.
When she finished, she looked up and smiled. Standing, she did a little dance.
“I’m on the ground again!” she shouted, turning in a big circle, her arms outstretched.
“Take this rope and secure a second anchor,” he called, tying another to the frame and tossing it to her.
She found another stump and quickly tied that rope then sat on the stump and looked up at the balloon, then around the clearing. The basket was anchored; now it was up to the chase