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?”
“It won’t hurt if it does, we can just crawl out. But, no, it’ll go the other direction. There, it’s almost down.”
When the nylon was lying on the ground, Rafael dropped his rope and indicated Amalia could do the same.
She did so, hesitantly.
“Good job,” he said, joining her.
“Now what?”
“We wait for the others.”
She looked around. “I don’t see a road.”
“They’ll come.”
“We are not where we were when you gave them the GPS location.”
“Manuel and Maria both know how to calculate distance and direction. And we have a beacon that I can start that gives off a signal. When they are close enough, they’ll receive that. I haven’t been wrong yet, have I?”
“Not that I know of, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be,” she said, annoyed with him. He looked as fresh and energetic as he had that morning. She would love to sit somewhere and relish being on the earth again. She knew any hint of makeup she’d put on that morning was gone. Her hair had to be a mess. And she’d love to forget about everything and just veg out—preferably away from Rafael Sandoval.
He laughed. “True enough. But better for my image if every time I’m wrong, few people know about it.” He looked around, fists on his hips.
Amalia thought he looked the way a conquistador probably looked when landing in the New World and thinking he’d conquered all he surveyed.
“We can wait in the basket if you like,” he said.
“No, thanks, I’ve spent enough time there today.”
“Then help me with the balloon.”
They stretched it out, then began rolling it toward the basket. Once it was compacted, he reached in the basket for the blankets and a large plastic tarp.
“We cover the balloon, then we sit and wait.”
“Why cover the balloon?”
“To keep it dry. Wet nylon doesn’t inflate very well.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll take a blanket to sit on,” he said when the envelope was covered. He also took the last two sodas.
She handed him a blanket and then put hers down on the ground. Rafael sat opposite her.
“Will we have to spend the night here?” she asked as he tossed her one of the sodas and kept the other.
“Probably. I didn’t see any signs of civilization when looking for this space. I don’t want to spend a lot of time traveling back and forth when we could be airborne.”
“I’m not much for camping,” she said.
“Ever been?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Then how do you know?”
“I like hot and cold running water too much.”
“Look
