The Husband Maker Boxed Set

by White, Karey

  “Well, at least it’s not your guy.”

  “Two dates doesn’t come close to making him my guy.”

  “You know what I mean. Do you like him?”

  “As much as you can like anyone after two dates, I suppose.”

  Angus gave me a sideways glance. “Just promise me if you break up, you won’t go to his wedding.”

  “I can’t make a promise like that.” Angus shook his head. “It’d probably be a nice wedding. If I got an invitation, I’d want to see the cake and the dress and the food. I’d be too curious to see what kind of wedding a wealthy senator throws.”

  “Maybe it’ll be your wedding, Chuck.”

  “Stop it. Don’t jinx me any more than I already am.”

  “You’re not jinxed. You’ve just dated guys too stupid to realize they should be snatching you up. Maybe this guy’s smarter than the rest.”

  I sighed. It would be so nice if Angus were right.

  “Are you sure this is safe?” I asked.

  “We take people up more than two hundred days a year.” Kip, the short, wiry man, looked more like a carnie than the operator of an expensive hot-air balloon. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

  “Maybe a little,” I admitted, downplaying my fear.

  “Tall girl like you shouldn’t be scared of heights,” Kip said. I pondered that a moment and concluded it made no sense at all.

  “You’d better hang on tight to her,” he said to Kyle and winked.

  “I think I’ll do that.” Without missing a beat, Kyle put his arm around my waist and pulled me close.

  “You don’t need to worry, miss. The conditions tonight are just about perfect. Small breezes and no gusts. And good visibility.”

  The drive to Napa Valley had been easy. Light traffic. Nice weather. I was starting to think everything surrounding Kyle was charmed. If Kyle wanted it, the heavens provided perfect weather, and the highway gods parted the typically heavy traffic.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about a hot-air balloon ride. The balloons always looked beautiful floating through the air, and I was sure the view of the valley would be stunning, but Kyle said the balloons flew between two and four thousand feet above the ground. You’d die an unpleasant death falling from that height.

  The balloon stretched out like a flat, nylon river across a grassy field. It had to be nearly a hundred feet from the basket to the top of the balloon. Red and yellow stripes popped against the grass. Kyle and I stood off to the side while another man positioned a giant fan facing the opening of the balloon. The basket was tipped onto its side. Although it looked like a picnic basket from the outside, I was happy to see it was lined with steel bars and a rubber floor.

  Kip lifted the opening of the balloon and the fan roared to life. Nylon began to billow in the fan-made breeze as it filled with air, turning the red and yellow stripes into lilting chevrons. It was a beautiful balloon.

  “Want to step inside the balloon?” Kip asked.

  We stepped around the basket to the opening. The noisy fan blew harder than I’d realized, and our hair and clothes whipped wildly in the wind. Inside, the balloon was like an enormous nylon room with a domed ceiling. Sunshine glowed through the bright colors, saturating the air with yellow and red. I leaned down and touched the fabric. It felt heavier than I’d expected.

  Kyle leaned close to my ear so I could hear him over the fan. “You excited?”

  “I’m trying to be. I’m sure I’ll love it once we’re in the air. I think.”

  Kyle laughed. “These guys know what they’re doing. Don’t worry.” He held my hand as we stepped carefully out of the balloon and over the cords and cables.

  A few minutes later, Kip pulled on a couple of levers. With a loud hiss, a long flame shot into the center of the balloon. “How does it not catch on fire?” I asked Kyle.

  “Why doesn’t it burn?” Kyle shouted to Kip.

  “The first twenty feet are made from the same fabric firefighters wear. The rest of it’s nylon.” His leathery face broke into a crooked smile. “Sweetheart, I’ve guided over a thousand flights and never had a mishap. You relax and enjoy the ride.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  A few more bursts of flame, and the balloon began its wobbly ascent into the air. As it gradually rose, it continued to ripple and quiver until it filled out to its full balloon shape. As it settled over us, it gently lifted the basket so it sat upright. Kip, never letting go of the rods that controlled the flames, swung himself into the basket. “All right, folks, climb in.”

  Cut out of the wicker sides were small footholds. I climbed the two steps and swung my leg over the side. Kyle followed right behind me. The rubbery surface inside curved over the lip.

  When we were safely in the basket, Kip released several more bursts of flame, and the balloon slowly lifted off the ground. We drifted up and toward a stand of trees. Soon we were level with the branches. A squirrel scampered the length of a limb and disappeared into a clump of leaves. The trees melted into green clusters as the earth spread out below us. The balloon made a long shadow across a field to our east as the sun lazily traveled the last hour of its day’s journey.

  The ride was smooth as we glided above vineyards, orchards, and large estates with barns as beautiful as the houses. Sapphire swimming pools sparkled beneath the setting sun.

  “If you look far out to your right, you’ll see the Pacific ocean.” Kip pointed west. “You kids are lucky. It’s not usually clear enough to see that far.”

  I’d never seen anything like it. It wasn’t like looking through the little window of an airplane with the earth speeding by. This was slow and gentle and quiet. The peace was occasionally interrupted by the hiss of the flames, but even that began to sound beautiful with the soft, gentle sky surrounding us and the stunning earth below us. I rested my elbows on the edge of the basket, taking it all in.

  “You can move around the basket if you want,” Kip said. “It’s as steady as can be. It won’t rock or tip.”

  I’m sure he knew what he was talking about, but there was no way I’d risk moving around. I hated it when someone rocked the seat on a Ferris wheel, and that was anchored to the earth and not nearly so high. I stayed glued to the same spot. Kyle’s arm had been wrapped around my waist, and I was glad he was standing so close. “Isn’t this amazing?” He reached for my hand.

  “It’s magic.”

  The next thing I knew, Kyle’s lips were brushing my temple. I rested my head against his, and we watched as the sun turned into a gold ball of fire and reflected its rays off the windows of every building for miles, scattering the valley below us with jewels.

  The sun slipped behind the watery edge of the world, and the landscape temporarily lost its luster. Within minutes, lights began to come on in buildings, and everything took on a more subdued beauty.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” Kip said, which completely alarmed me. “When I pull these cords, the top of the balloon is going to open up a bit. It’ll let out some of the hot air, and we’ll start descending.” There was a soft whoosh, and slowly, the ground moved closer. “If you look over there, you can see our truck waiting for us. We’re aiming for that field right there.”

  Now that the sun was gone, the ground looked almost black. The truck was driving across the field where we’d soon land.

  The balmy evening and Kyle standing so close made me forget my fear, and I enjoyed the feel of falling slowly through the air.

  A breeze picked up a loose piece of my hair and blew it across my face. I looked at the dark trees, now silhouetted against the fading gold sky and noticed the branches were blowing. Now that the breath-taking vistas were disappearing, I was eager to land and get out of the basket.

  The large field stretched out in front of us. We were only about ten feet off the ground. This was a height we could jump from and live, I thought with relief.

  “That wasn’t so—” Kyle’s words were cut off as a strong gust of wind pushed us for
ward and toward the ground. The basket tilted slightly in the air, and the bottom edge hit the field and bounced back up, throwing us backward. I grasped the edge of the basket as it hit again and tipped on its front side. I flew forward, my face and shoulder smashing against the ground. My left hand still gripped the basket, dragging me with it as it skimmed over dirt and rocks.

  “Let go!” Kip yelled.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kyle tumble out of the basket and disappear behind us.

  “You have to let go!”

  In slow motion, I realized he was talking to me, and I released my grip. My body crumpled over the side, and the basket scraped over my back and shoulders, driving my head into the dirt.

  When my momentum stopped, I held perfectly still. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the balloon move farther away, Kip and the other man hanging on to the cords and digging their heels into the field. They yelled and swore, but the words drifted away from me.

  What had happened? I knew I was hurt, but I wasn’t sure where. My back and shoulder stung. Had I landed in water? Why was my face so wet?

  “Charlotte, Charlotte, are you okay?” I could hear Kyle somewhere behind me. Then he was kneeling beside me. “Oh no. Charlotte, are you okay? I need help!” he yelled. “She’s bleeding.”

  So it wasn’t water on my face. It was blood.

  I dragged myself to my knees, wincing at the pain. “No, don’t get up. They’re bringing help. Hold still.” Kyle sat on the ground and carefully rested my head on his lap.

  “Here. Hold this against it,” Kip handed Kyle some kind of cloth. Kyle pushed the rag against my forehead, and I cried out at the jolt of pain. I tried to push his hand away, but he held it firmly. Gradually it dulled, and I let him keep it there, my hand holding onto his wrist.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kyle said.

  I don’t know how long we sat in the dark field. I heard a siren and opened my eyes to see red lights flashing across Kyle’s worried face. Soon, a man and woman put me on a stretcher and lifted me into the back of the brightly lit ambulance.

  “I want to ride with her.” Kyle was already climbing in the back with me.

  “Sure, Mr. Aldsworth.” How did the woman know his name?

  I moaned as the ambulance bounced across the field. My mind seized on little details around me and little snatches of conversation.

  Kyle had a scrape along the side of his face, and his normally perfect hair was caked with mud.

  “She’s going to need stitches.”

  “Could have a concussion.”

  “Dad, we were in an accident.” Kyle was talking into his phone.

  “Is he Senator Aldsworth’s son?” asked a man, and the woman nodded.

  The bouncing stopped as the ambulance pulled onto a paved road.

  I licked my dry lips and realized I had a fat lip.

  A sliver of light split the room as Mia opened the door.

  “Hey,” I said from my bed.

  “You awake?”

  “Yeah.” My voice cracked, and my body ached, but I was glad for some company.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  “What hurts?”

  “I think everything.” Mia turned on the lamp by my bed, and I closed my eyes for a moment against the sudden light.

  “Is that too bright?”

  “No. It’s fine.”

  “Oh, Charlotte. If you wanted to be a celebrity, I could have suggested less painful ways to go about it.” Mia smiled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re all over the news.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” I pushed myself up, and Mia arranged a pillow behind my back. “Must be a slow news day.”

  “You’re officially being called Kyle Aldsworth’s girlfriend. One story even said fiancé.”

  I tried to laugh. “After three dates? That Kyle’s quite a mover.”

  “Speaking of Kyle, he stayed as long as your parents last night, but when they left, your Dad suggested it would look better if he left, too.” That sounded like Dad. Always looking out for my good reputation. “Your Mom is coming back sometime this morning. I’m still not sure why you didn’t want to go home with them last night. You’re so beat up. You should let her take care of you for a few days.”

  “I was hurting too much last night to think about moving anymore. I just wanted to sleep. I’ll see how I’m doing today. Maybe I’ll call Jayne and see if she’s okay if I work from home for a few days.”

  “You sure you feel like working?”

  “Right now I hardly feel like breathing.” I put my hand up to my aching head. “What did they say on the news?”

  “Hang on. I’ll read you an article from the paper this morning.”

  Mia returned a minute later and started reading. “’Senator Aldsworth’s Son and Girlfriend in Serious Balloon Accident.’”

  “It already sounds ridiculous,” I said.

  “Oh, it gets better, believe me.” Mia continued to read.

  Kyle Aldsworth, second son of Senator Donald Aldsworth, and his girlfriend, Charlotte Emerson, were injured in a hot-air balloon accident west of Napa last evening, when a gust of wind smashed the basket and balloon into the ground. Mr. Aldsworth sustained minor injuries when he was thrown from the basket. He suffered abrasions to the face and arms. Ms. Emerson’s injuries were more serious—a laceration to the forehead and lip, contusions on her arm and hand, and two bruised ribs.

  Senator Aldsworth insisted a plastic surgeon be called in to treat Ms. Emerson’s lacerations. ‘We are deeply troubled that an activity that should have been safe caused the injury of a family friend and wanted to take every measure possible to see to it Charlotte’s injuries receive the best possible care.’

  Mr. Aldsworth and Ms. Emerson were treated at a local hospital and released.

  Balloon Master Tours could not be reached for comment.

  Mia folded up the paper. “Have you met Senator Aldsworth?”

  “No, but it’s nice to know he already considers me a family friend.”

  Mia shook her head. “Politicians. Kyle wanted me to call him when you were up to seeing people. Do you want me to call him now?”

  “Not yet. I must look a mess.”

  “Yeah, you kinda do.”

  “Maybe Mom can help me get cleaned up, and then we can call Kyle later.”

  “No problem. Graham and I are planning to go out tonight. Do you want me to cancel?”

  I gingerly shook my head. “No. I’ll probably be in Fairfield by tonight anyway.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Kyle wanted to come see me, but I discouraged him until the next day, which meant he had to drive to Fairfield. He didn’t mind.

  “Come in, Kyle. She’s in the family room.” Mom showed him in then disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Hey there.” He was holding a bouquet of spring flowers. “Looks like someone’s trying to outdo me.” He nodded toward the giant bouquet on the coffee table.

  “That’s from your parents.” Kyle laughed and put his bouquet beside the larger one.

  I was stretched out on the couch, pillows under my head.

  “Nice pajamas.” He pointed at my pink flannel pajamas with Eiffel Towers and Arc de Triumphe landmarks all over them. “Been to Paris?”

  “Nope. Mia got these for me when she went there with her mom last year.”

  “Maybe we can go someday and take a hot-air balloon ride over the city.”

  I groaned. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Can I sit down?” Kyle motioned toward the end of the couch. I tried not to grimace as I bent my legs to make a spot for him to sit. He gently pulled my legs onto his lap and shifted slightly to face me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than yesterday,” I said.

  “Charlotte, I’m so sorry about this.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t your fault. Accidents happen.”

  “I know, but I feel terrible.
”

  “It wasn’t you’re fault. Don’t worry about it. Until the final few seconds, it had been a perfect date.”

  Kyle reached his hand across my stomach and held my hand. “Can I do anything for you?”

  “No. I’ll be fine. Mom’s taking good care of me, and I’ll be good enough to go back to work in a few days. Are you okay?” The side of Kyle’s face was scabbed over.

  “Oh sure. Mine is nothing compared to yours. That’s what’s so frustrating. I wish we could have traded injuries.” His thumb brushed gently over my knuckles, and his other arm rested on my legs. He sighed and leaned his head back.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  Kyle sighed again. “Charlotte, I have to ask you something, and I don’t want to upset you.”

  I was confused. “Okay.”

  “My father wanted to come with me today. To see you. I told him I’d handle it on my own. You didn’t need an Aldsworth entourage descending on you when you’re miserable.” Kyle looked uncomfortable.

  “What did he want?” I asked.

  Kyle hesitated a moment and then barreled ahead. “He’s worried you’re going to sue us.” My surprise must have registered on my face. “I mean, you probably could since I’m the one who dragged you out there, and you got hurt. We definitely have more money than the hot-air balloon company, so if you were going to sue, Dad says we’d be the likely target, and he wanted me to tell you if you have anything you need, you should ask him rather than go to a lawyer.”

  I was stunned. I didn’t speak for a long time as I tried to process this strange way of reacting to an accident. Of course, I knew people sued other people, but neither Kyle nor his father had been flying the balloon. Besides, it was a gust of air, not Kip or Kyle that had slammed the basket into the ground.