more fun for me to take you shopping?” he asked.
She frowned. “I can’t let you keep spending money on me.”
He gave another shrug. “It’s my fault you’re stuck here.”
She cocked her head to one side. “You broke the plane?”
“I own the plane.”
She hesitated for a few seconds. “I guess you do, don’t you?”
The question seemed rhetorical, so he didn’t bother answering.
“This is all a bit surreal for me,” she said.
Jack fought the urge to move farther into the room to reassure her. “Just go with it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
She was obviously worrying about Cleveland, and she’d think to call him soon if Jack didn’t at least pretend to explore some alternatives.
He took a chance. “We could book commercial tickets, but that’ll probably take just as long as waiting for Simon.”
Then he held his breath and waited.
“I suppose,” she ventured, clearly not convinced.
He tried to lighten the atmosphere. “We’re marooned, Kristy. Think of it as being on a desert island.”
She cocked her head, and he could tell his ploy was working. “A desert island that comes with a casino, chocolate volcanoes and Cirque du Soleil?”
“Hey, I had to pull a lot strings to get those tickets.”
She gave a small, self-conscious smile. “Sorry. I’ll stop complaining and lighten up.”
“Yes. Do stop complaining. And do lighten up. We’re marooned together until tomorrow, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.”
She glanced around at the sumptuous furnishings and the rich curtains in the spacious bedroom. “I have to say, this is the best desert island ever.”
Jack chuckled at that. “Come on, then. Let me show you the rest of it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
KRISTY sat up straight and peered past the Eldorado Tours sign to a mass of bright yellow, blue and red fabric that billowed out across the packed desert sand.
“What’s that?” she asked, bracing her hands on the dashboard as Jack bounced the rented SUV into a dirt parking spot next to the porch of a small, graying building.
“It’s a hot air balloon.” He smiled, clearly pleased with himself as he shoved his sunglasses above his forehead.
She blinked at his profile. “You told me we were going to see the Grand Canyon.”
“We are.”
“But—”
He killed the engine and set the hand brake. “Did you think we’d ride down the cliffs on burros?”
She angled her body to face him. “I thought we’d drive up to the edge and take a look over.” She’d never been to the Grand Canyon, but she imagined there were any number of lookouts along the main road.
“This is way better,” said Jack. “We’ll cruise down between the cliffs and get a close-up of the river.”
Kristy’s stomach dipped at the thought of skimming close to jagged rocks in something as fragile as a hot air balloon. “Is that safe?”
“It’s safer than falling off a burro on a narrow trail.”
She glanced back at the rapidly expanding balloon. “That’s your benchmark for safety? Anything above falling off a burro?”
Chuckling, he opened the driver’s door. “Don’t be a wuss. You’ll have a blast.”
Taking a deep breath, Kristy reached for her own door handle, trying to remember if she’d ever heard reports of balloon fatalities in the Grand Canyon. She couldn’t think of any, but that might simply mean the mathematical odds were catching up with them.
Jack rounded the hood and pulled on the top of her door, drawing it open the rest of the way.
“Have you ever ridden one?” she asked.
The roar of the balloon’s gas burner echoed in the air as the huge balloon lifted from the ground, taking on a life of its own in a slight, desert breeze.
“A burro?”
She gave him an exasperated glare. “A hot air balloon.”
“A couple of times.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
She squinted at the bold yellow against the crackling blue sky. “How exactly do they steer?”
“They don’t.” He retrieved a small cooler from the back seat of the car. “You’re pretty much at the whim of the wind.”
“This is not reassuring, Jack.”
He placed his free hand at the small of her back, urging her toward the gate. “The pilot’s licensed.”
“So? You just told me he can’t steer.”
“The Grand Canyon’s a pretty big place. We’re sure to happen across some of it. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left it on the jet.”
His face suddenly tightened with concern. “Hey, you’re not still freaked out from that, are you?”
She shook her head. Then she stopped. Now that he mentioned it, it was sort of unsettling to be going back up in the air again.
“Good.” He took her at her word, increasing their pace. “This is going to be fantastic.”
FROM THE moment they lifted off the ground, Kristy had to admit, Jack was right.
The trip was better than fantastic. There was nothing quite like being above the ground, yet out in the open air. The balloon was slow and smooth. She was glad she’d worn a long-sleeved blouse, but with record high temperatures, the breeze was soft. Between the pilot’s narrative and Jack’s questions and jokes, she completely forgot to be frightened.
They soared the breadth of the canyon, dipping between layered cliffs of red, green and brown stone, nearly kissing the brittle, scrub-covered valley bottom, only to rise again and wend their way between spires of sculpted rock.
“With this wind, I can put you down at Narin Falls,” said the pilot.
“Perfect,” said Jack, giving Kristy’s shoulders a squeeze. “Feel like a picnic?”
