A Cowboy Under Her Tree

After that, it seemed an alarmingly short time before Melanie found herself strapped into the rear seat of the smallest plane she’d ever seen, much less been flown in. Only four seats in the horribly small cabin, with Russ in one of the front two, alongside the pilot, whom he briefly introduced as “Mac.”

The middle-aged pilot with a toothpick clenched between his teeth seemed about as taciturn as Russ, and as the tiny plane took flight, she could only pray that Mac was as capable a pilot as Russ was reportedly a rancher.

But every time the small plane bumped and jolted, she had to swallow a gasp.

She didn’t know how long they’d been in the air when Russ pulled off the headphones that matched the pair Mac wore and looked back at her, undoubtedly taking in her clenched hands on the armrests.

“Thought you’d be used to flying.” He had to raise his voice to be heard above the plane’s engine. The plane’s one engine.

What happened if that engine failed?

“Enormous flying buses, yes.” Ones with multiple engines. She uncurled her fingers that were beginning to cramp. “And when it’s not a commercial flight, the McFarlane company planes are…somewhat larger than this.” They were jets. Outfitted with every conceivable comfort.

The morning sunlight was slanting across his face through the plane’s windows, turning his brown eyes a lighter, amber shade. “You want to live in Thunder Canyon, you’d better get used to roughing it a little.”

Melanie thought she heard Mac cover up a laugh.

Her cheeks warmed. She could only imagine how spoiled both men seemed to think she was. “I wouldn’t term riding in any sort of plane as roughing it.” She didn’t need to lean forward to be heard, because the space between her row of seats and his was about the size of a postage stamp. “And this four-seater experience isn’t going to scare me into running back home, if that’s what you were hoping.”

His lips twisted. “You’ve stuck it out six months already. I gave up hoping after five.” He turned back around in his seat and pulled his headphones back into place.

Her imagination was really working overtime, because she could have sworn that there had been a hint of admiration in his voice.

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