“Is he married?”
“ No.”
Grunting, she spooned the spicy, warm chili into her mouth. Swallowing, she asked, “Did you follow suit?” It was a bold thing to ask, but it felt like the right moment to ask. She saw his eyes darken and her gut tightened.
“I married Sophie, the girl I fell in love with in junior high. We married as soon as we graduated high school. We had our lives mapped out and went to the same university together.” His voice lowered. “She died of a heart attack at twenty.”
Stunned, Andy whispered, “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, Dev . . .” and now she felt bad for asking at all because she could see the grief in his expression.
“My parents told me that with time, the pain would dull.” He looked away for a moment, and then held her sad gaze. “It happened over time.”
“But that doesn’t mean you will ever forget her.”
“No, that won’t happen. If you love someone, and I loved her with my life, it will never leave me. My mother told me that in time I would place Sophie in my heart and in a special memory file drawer in my brain, where she would stay. She was right.” He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and set it aside. “About a year ago, a lot of my past dissolved. Until then, I would look at any woman I thought I might be interested in and compare her to Sophie. I finally realized that was unfair. There will never be another woman like her. That’s when I realized I was stuck living in the past, the grief supporting me emotionally so that I just screwed up every relationship I got into.”
“Yet you know what love is.”
“That was the gift that came out of it,” he agreed, his voice raspy. “When you marry at eighteen, or any age, you don’t expect your partner to die of a sudden heart attack two years later.”
“No,” she quietly agreed. “Well, we’re a fine pair, aren’t we? I avoid relationships because I’m afraid I’ll be abandoned again. You avoid them because no woman can possibly stand in Sophie’s shoes.”
“Good analysis. As I’ve gotten older—maybe matured a bit more—I realized what I was doing. It took a lot of years to reach that point.” He gave her a kind look. “Maybe someday you’ll be able to move into a relationship and realize you aren’t going to lose the guy.”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, finishing off her bowl of chili. “I’m not there yet, or maybe I’m not as mature as you are.”
“On another topic, you seemed really stoked when I showed you those two résumés, from Alma and Grace. They seemed like really good friends of yours.”
“Oh, they are! We met in the military and became besties. We spent every day or week we could together. Part of it was because there weren’t a lot of women pilots in fixed wing or helos. You learn to stick together if you’re a female in the service.”
“That’s true, but the way you reacted, I thought they were really close buds with you.”
“They are to this day. I text them at least a couple of times a week, keeping tabs on them. I’m surprised they didn’t tell me they sent their résumés to you.”
“It’s been kind of short notice,” he said, wiping his hands when he was finished with the juicy, thick hamburger. “We just circulated our employment ad this past week.”
“Well, that’s true,” she said. “I hope you find them right for the tasks around here. I know they can do them all. But you and your boss have to decide that. Until then, I’m not saying anything to Grace or Alma. I don’t want to get their hopes up if they might not be hired.”
“Understood,” Dev said, “and a wise idea.”
She crossed her fingers. “It would be great if your boss thinks they’re right for this type of employment, though.”
“I think they are. But he’s the one who has to decide. Ready to go?”
She smiled. “Yes. This was great, getting some downtime with you, Dev. I knew you were kind of a special guy out at the crash site, but I didn’t have the chance to fully appreciate it then.” She saw his cheeks turn ruddy. He looked vulnerable, and she’d rarely seen that in a man, and it drew her powerfully. The only other man in her life was her father, Steve. He was man enough to be vulnerable, and as a child, she’d desperately needed that. As a woman, he’d taught her as a role model to look for another man like him. Steve had drawn her out of her shell and she’d learn to trust again. And her trust wasn’t something she gave to many. But looking at Dev as he rose and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, she absorbed his vulnerability. Women were automatically vulnerable with each other, with children, but not always with men. Why couldn’t all men be like her father and Dev?
June 18
“How do you like your new office?” Dev asked, walking into Andy’s digs at nine o’clock that morning. Outside the window, he saw a lot of workmen putting the final touches on the airport hub. The place was like a busy beehive. Trying to ignore his yearning to have another personal talk with her, as they had at Kassie’s Café less than a week before, he tucked it away like a precious jewel. Their single-piece blue flight suits had arrived just a few days before. They all wore one, at least those on duty. There was a patch above Andy’s left pocket with her last name and first initial. Her gold wings shone just above it. They were all long-sleeved, but because it was summer, she had rolled the sleeves up to just below her elbows.
Flight boots—good, solid black leather and highly polished by hand—were the dress code for the pilots as well. Andy had her chestnut hair wrapped up in a ponytail. She wore no makeup or jewelry. She was beautiful in Dev’s eyes. His heart swelled when she looked up from her desk and smiled hello, holding his gaze.
“Great. Just getting used to the PC, the program for missions and learning the ins and outs of the rest of the software.”
“Sorta like the military, right? After action reports done in Ops?”
Nodding, she said, “Same old thing. But it’s familiar and it feels good.”
He held up some papers. “Just wanted to keep you updated on hiring. Pete has approved Alma and Grace to come in for final interviews with him.”
Gasping, Andy said, “Really?”
“Yes. I approved them, passed the info that you knew them to Pete. He likes what he sees.”
“When are they arriving?”
“Day after tomorrow. I’m sure you’d like some time with them?”
“Better believe it. Will they be staying overnight?”
“Yes, Pete’s putting them up at a nice B and B just outside Wind River.”
“I’ll text them. Do they know the time they’re to be here for each interview?”
“Yes. I purposely left eleven a.m. to one p.m. open so you three could go to Kassie’s for lunch if you want.” He grinned and felt his whole body respond to the happiness gleaming in her gray eyes. He wanted to make Andy smile. So often, the past few days, after she chose her office at the airport, he found ways to casually drop by to see her. She was new to the huge place and he liked helping her when she asked for it.
“You’re a good person,” Andy said, losing her smile, giving him a look of pleasure. “Thanks for doing that.”
Heat rushed to his cheeks. He would never not blush. He realized that when he was in junior high and a girl he liked said something nice to him. Shifting his boots, he said, “You’re welcome.”
“If they’re hired, when would they start?”
“Three weeks. They have to tie up loose ends at their present employment, move here, find someplace to live and all that stuff.”
“I can help them with where to live. The same condo building where you are? Did I tell you that I was assigned the condo across the hall from yours? Maybe I’ll come over and beg, borrow or steal some sugar sometime?”
“I do have sugar.” He laughed. “That’s great news. Let me know when you want to move in and I’ll help with the furniture. I’m sure Grace and Alma, if hired, will find that condo building a good place to rent.”
“I’ll let them know when the time’s right.”
He
glanced at his watch. “Are you open to flying the Black Hawk? The mechanics just called me and they’ve finished their routine maintenance on it. It’s ready to be air-tested.”
“More than ready!” She shut down the computer. Standing, she said, “My FAM flight, right?”
“Yes, familiarizing yourself with the valley today. I’ll be taking the left seat today.”
“Music to my ears,” she said, rubbing her hands together. Leaning down, she picked up her helmet bag and straightened. “Now I feel like I’m back in the military again.” She saw his grin widen, his hands resting languidly on his narrow hips.
“Great. Follow me. We’ve got a golf cart at our disposal that will take the two pilots and crew chief to the hangar when there’s an alarm bell ringing, alerting us we have a mission to perform.”
Dev wanted to keep it impersonal with Andy, but it was impossible. The way her eyes lit up with unabashed joy at getting to fly again grabbed his heart and didn’t let it go. Her smile was winsome later, when they sat in the Black Hawk that had just been rolled out of the hangar and onto the tarmac. The morning sun was slanting across the valley, an emerald-green strip in the verdant flatlands of the area. Everything was lush and vibrant with life. Spring was something that really didn’t come to this part of Wyoming until early June. They took the golf cart to where the helicopter was sitting with two mechanics nearby.
Once aboard, after the preflight walk around, Dev watched her fire-retardant Nomex gloves flying over the panel in front of them. Usually, they had a third person on board with them, the chief. He or she would handle the throttle handles up on the ceiling of the bird, but he would do that as copilot today. Whenever they went out on any mission, there would be a minimum of three people in the Hawk.
Today was a FAM flight, something quiet and undemanding. Andy had to familiarize herself with this helo. Even though she’d flown Black Hawks since leaving the military, every bird had its own idiosyncrasies. They went through the preflight procedure together.
The whine of the first engine went online, inching the overhead throttle forward a notch, and he absorbed the pleasure of Andy’s profile as she pulled down the dark visor across her upper face, the eastern sunlight strong and blinding. He did the same. Outside the bird, one of the mechanics gave her hand signals, orange direction cones in his hands, taking the bird out to the nearest runway. Once the second engine came online, Dev called the tower for clearance, receiving a go and the number on the runway to take. It was actually a short runway for helos, with a large landing and takeoff area, well clear of all major buildings in case the bird ever crashed.
The mic was close to Andy’s lips, her hands on the cyclic and collective, flight boots on the rudders beneath her feet. As copilot, he had his duties, so just the pleasure of watching her respond reminded him of the military. He liked the huskiness of her voice, low, in charge and stress-free. She would have been a great pilot to fly with in Afghanistan, but the number of women in that job was only around 15 percent of pilots who flew helos.
Braking, the Black Hawk sat shivering and shaking on its tripod landing gear. Andy ordered takeoff and he pushed forward, with the palm of his gloved hand, both throttles located in the ceiling between the seats. The blades swung faster and faster, the whole craft shivering, as if it could hardly wait to spring off its leash and get back into the blue arms of the sky above them.
In no time, with her butter-smooth flight ability, the helo lifted off, the vibration throbbing through him. It was a comforting feeling to Dev, and he absorbed it like breathing in oxygen. People who loved to fly, he’d discovered many years ago, always compared it to breathing in the air of life.
He told her to take the bird to three thousand feet, and she began a bank to the right, away from the airport, the dogleg, so that any other aircraft coming in for a landing would have full clearance. The people in the tower were learning their jobs, too. They were receiving more and more civilian plane traffic daily, getting used to the always changing weather conditions, the prevailing wind direction and so many other issues they had to stay on top of. The Ops people were hired and continuing to work and learn their jobs at this regional multiuse hub as well. By the time the Fourth of July came, the ceremony to officially open this airport, the Ops people would have a month of acclimation, which was good.
“Beautiful,” Andy said, lifting her chin toward the sky outside their cockpit.
“Good takeoff,” he congratulated. “And yes, it’s a great day to fly.”
Andy’s mouth curved. “I do so love being in the air. When I was three years old, I used to fly around the house, my arms out, making buzzing noises. My parents knew then that flying might be something I’d pursue when I was grown up.”
“Pretty astute on their part,” Dev replied, impressed.
“When did the flying bug bite you?” she asked, slowly swiveling her head from right to left and then upward, always looking for aircraft in the vicinity.
“I wasn’t as young as you were, but my dad bought me a model helicopter when I was ten and that’s when I realized I wanted to fly one.”
“Pretty astute on his part, too.”
He laughed a little. “Yeah. We didn’t have a whole lot of money, but my parents saved for me to go to college. I didn’t get to learn to fly until after I joined the Army.”
“It was different for me. My folks are very well off, and when they saw my love of flying wasn’t going away as I grew up, they gave me flight lessons out of the Jackson Hole airport when I was fifteen.”
“Wow,” he murmured, continuing to check the skies around them, too, “what a great start.”
“The Air Force was knocking at my door in my sophomore year,” Andy admitted. “By the time I joined after graduation, I was taken into their combat jet program and got assigned the Warthog. I loved it.”
“Until you crashed.”
He saw her lips thin for a moment. “Yes, until then.”
“Were you originally going to stay in for twenty?”
“Sure was. I guess,” and she shrugged a bit, the harness firm around her shoulders, “I was romanticizing what I did. I didn’t realize it at the time. I was so focused on saving lives, protecting the soldiers or Marines on the ground, that I didn’t ever think about getting shot down. And when it happened? It shattered me in a way I can’t explain.”
“You lost the rose-colored glasses,” he murmured sympathetically. “You probably saw yourself as the knight flying in on your white horse, saving others,” and he glanced out of the corner of his eye at her.
He saw her lips soften. “I grew up on Harry Potter stories. I thought I could do everything. Plus, from the time I could remember, my mother read all of us fairy tales. I loved the idea that I could be one of King Arthur’s knights even though I was a girl. I used to go out to one of the lush, green fields, lay down, tuck my hands behind my head and watch the white clouds move above me. I could see shapes in them sometimes. I always dreamed I had a white horse and I was the only woman knight from the Roundtable. I dreamed of amazing battles and winning,” and she laughed.
“That’s something we shared in common,” he said. “As a kid there was a pretty tall sand dune nearby, close to the beach. I’d lay up there in the sea grass doing the same thing you did.”
She slanted him a quick glance. “Were you one of the knights from the Roundtable, too?”
He felt his cheeks growing hot. “I was.”
“Which one?”
“Oh, I imagined myself as Lancelot. How about you?”
“I modeled myself after Sir Gawain.”
“Good choice. He was seen as formidable, always courteous to others and with a great heart. I’ll bet you knew he loved herbs and was considered a healer, too?” He saw her mouth curve and thought he saw pleasure in her expression, although all he could see was her profile.
“My mother loved Gawain. She read me his book, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.”
“Does your mother love
herbs?”
“Very insightful of you,” she praised, giving him a glance, her smile widening. “Mom has always had a love of herbs and spices.”
“My father would read to me before I’d go to bed, too. You and I have some interesting commonalities.”
“Truly.”
He watched as they left the airport behind, going south. She moved the helo to about half a mile from the main highway that split the valley in half. It was an easy flight, the air still cold and, therefore, less turbulent than when the heat of the sun hit the land, warming it up and causing uprising currents. Flying was always done in the morning hours because no one liked hitting the air pockets that were formed by the heat radiating skyward. “I’ve been studying a lot of law enforcement arrests in the valley,” he said. “I’ll show you their maps and statistics when we get back. For now, I’ll just point out certain areas and tell you where the hotbed of law entanglement with the locals is located.”
“Oh,” she said drily, “I was asking my dad yesterday about the Elson clan and whether they were still the bad guys of the valley. He said yes, but there was talk that they’d joined a Guatemalan drug lord, Pablo Gonzalez, and was making inroads into our valley.”
“He’s right. The Elson stronghold is in the southern part of the valley, just below a slope of the Salt River Range,” and he pointed in a southeasterly direction.
“Gosh, that whole family has been a pox on the county.”
“I read profiles on all of them,” he said grimly. “It started with Brian, the father, who beat the hell out of his four sons, Hiram, Kaen, Cree and Elisha. He’s dead. Roberta, the mother, lives in the main house. Hiram is in federal prison. Cree is dead. He kidnapped Tara, a local high school girl, and went to prison for it. When he got out and she came home from the military, he started stalking her again.”
“Tara was one of my best friends,” Andy said, her voice heavy. “My parents told me that when Cree kidnapped her a second time, he was caught and killed by Reese, a local rancher. Tara ended up alive, thank goodness. The Elson family is dark.”
Wind River Protector Page 8
