Full Throttle & Wrong Bride, Right Groom

by Merline Lovelace

  Cursing himself for agreeing to her hands-off on-site policy, Dave cut his stretching exercise short.

  “You ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Kate set off at an easy pace. She’d spent enough time in this man’s company by now to gauge his temper. For three days he’d been battling a machine and everything the test cadre had thrown at him. He’d won most of the battles, more than anyone had expected him to. But the ones he’d lost stuck in his craw like a fish bone.

  He needed an outlet for his frustration and Kate intended to give him one. Not the one he’d no doubt prefer, she thought with a twinge of real regret. No hard, fast tussle between the sheets, muscles straining, bodies writhing, skin damp with sweat. Gulping at the image that leaped into her head, she kicked up the pace.

  Dave lengthened his stride and kept up with her. He didn’t indulge in his usual teasing banter. To Kate’s surprise, she found she missed the give-and-take. They jogged in silence a while longer before she dropped the casual challenge.

  “There’s the cactus we used as a finish line the other day,” she said. “We talked about a rematch. You up for it?”

  He shot her a quick, hard glance. “Are you?”

  In answer she merely smiled and took off in a burst of speed.

  “Dammit!”

  His curse was followed by the sound of his pounding footsteps. Kate didn’t hold back. Fists clenched, feet pumping, heart galloping, she poured everything she had into the all-for-nothing sprint.

  Mere yards from the cactus she glanced over her shoulder and debated whether to slow her pace. Her goal was to make Dave work off some of his pent-up frustration, not add to it with another defeat. The issue became moot, though, when he laid on a final burst of speed. It was all Kate could do to stay elbow-to-elbow with him as they sailed past the spiky cactus.

  Grinning, she slowed her pace. “Well, what do you know,” she panted. “Another tie.”

  “Only because you cheated. Again.”

  His scowl was gone, replaced by an answering grin that snatched what little air Kate had managed to draw into her already stressed lungs.

  “You won’t get the drop on me again,” he warned.

  “Think so, huh? Wait till you climb back in the simulator this morning. You’re not going to know what hit you.”

  His groan was loud and long, but minus the surly edge. “I’ve already been hit with lightning, hail, ice and sandstorms. What the heck have you got left in your bag of tricks to throw at me?”

  She tossed her head, laughing. “Oh, cowboy, I’m just warming up.”

  “I’ll remember this. Trust me, I’m going to remember every jolt and lurch and sickening, thousand-foot drop.”

  “Ha! Threats don’t scare me.”

  “They should.” His voice dropped to a mock growl. “You’re gonna pay, babe.”

  The promise hovered between them for an endless moment before being lost to the steady plop of their running shoes against the dirt road.

  Their race might have relieved some of Dave’s frustration, but it didn’t help the tension that crawled up Kate’s neck as the rest of the day turned into a replay of the ones that had gone before.

  They put the sky jock through hell. Time and time again. Using a dial-a-disaster approach, they’d start with a minor problem like an electrical failure, then pile on problem after problem until Dave reached the point of what was politely referred to as task saturation. With six or seven major malfunctions occurring at once, he had to scramble to keep the issues sorted out and Pegasus in the air.

  By the third simulated run, Kate was sweating under her flight suit and strung tight with nerves. This run would be the worst, she knew. It was an overland flight in winter weather conditions. Partway into the flight, Dave would encounter a phenomenon few pilots had ever dealt with. Swallowing, Kate glanced at the digital clock on the controller’s console. Seven minutes until all hell broke loose.

  Fists balled, she kept her eyes glued to the wide screens surrounding the capsule. The Alps rose in majestic splendor. Their snowcapped peaks speared into a dazzlingly blue sky. Dave was piloting his craft through a narrow valley. All systems were fully functioning.

  Kate tore her gaze from the screens and watched the clock. Three minutes. Two.

  She closed her eyes. Envisioned the cold, dense air mass sliding down the mountain. Picking up speed as gravity took over. Sweeping up snow. Gathering force and fury.

  “What the…!”

  Suddenly Dave was fighting for control in total whiteout conditions. The katabatic wind—the strongest on the planet save for tornadoes—had hit his craft with the force of a free-falling bulldozer. In the Antarctic, these dense, cold down drafts had been clocked at speeds in excess of two hundred miles per hour. In the Alps they came with the mistral, which tore down the Rhone valley through southern France and out into the Mediterranean.

  Kate had intensified this particular mistral beyond what might reasonably be expected, given the simulated time of year and temperature. Now she watched with her heart in her throat as the display screens in the control booth showed a snow-blinded, out-of-control Pegasus flying straight at a towering peak.

  Pull up! The silent prayer intensified to a near shriek inside her head. Pull up!

  For a heart-stopping moment, she thought he’d make it. He yanked on the stick, got the craft’s nose up, almost—almost!—maneuvered around the towering wall of snow and rock.

  A second later, the displays went flat. The controller blew out a long, ragged breath and keyed his mike.

  “Pegasus One, your flight is terminated.”

  A stark silence descended over the control booth. Russ McIver finally broke it. “That’s twice Scott has augered in now.”

  His eyes flinty, Captain Westfall nodded. “I’m aware of that, Major.”

  “I don’t think we can blame this one on pilot error or unfamiliarity with the systems,” Kate said carefully. “I may have made the weather conditions too extreme for this scenario.”

  Russ set his jaw. “Extreme or not, if this had been a real mission we’d be calling for body bags right now.”

  As frustrated as everyone else in the booth, Cari Dunn dragged off her ball cap and raked a hand through her hair. “Why don’t you wait for the debrief before you start burying the dead, McIver.”

  The marine stiffened up. “Are you addressing me, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, Major,” she snapped. “I am.”

  Dave’s voice came over the intercom, cutting through the tension with the precision of a blade.

  “Russ is right. I blew it. Let’s run this one again.”

  Captain Westfall leaned into the mike. “You’ve been at this twelve solid hours. Why don’t you take a break and we’ll run it tomorrow.”

  “I’m okay, sir. I’ll take another stab at it. What the hell hit me, anyway?”

  All eyes in the booth turned to Kate. She stepped up to the mike.

  “It’s called a katabatic wind, after the Greek word kata, meaning downward. It forms when a cold, dense mass of air slides down a mountainside, picks up speed and plunges to the valley below. This type of wind occurs everywhere on the planet but, uh, not usually with this much force.”

  She half expected him to mutter an angry curse. Kate knew she wouldn’t be feeling too friendly if someone had just put her through that particular experience. To her surprise, a chuckle floated across the speakers.

  “Don’t forget, Hargrave. I’m keeping score. Every lurch. Every jolt. Every damned kata-whatever. Okay, team, let’s power this baby up and see if I can get Pegasus to ride on the wind this time.”

  Chapter 5

  The officers didn’t gather at the picnic tables that night. Or the next. Dave kept them at the simulator, conducting run after run, analyzing the system failures, admitting his own with brutal honesty.

  By Friday the entire test cadre was worn to the bone, but both Dave and Pegasus had proved their stuff. In simulated environments, anyw
ay. The real test would come with the first actual flight on Monday morning.

  Dave had planned to spend the weekend prepping for the flight, but Captain Westfall gathered his officers and senior civilians early Saturday to declare a stand-down.

  “I received a request from the Joint Chiefs for a briefing on our progress to date. I’m flying to Washington this morning and will return Sunday evening. We’ll resume test operations on Monday.”

  His glance roamed from one to another of his senior officers and civilians. The strain of the past weeks showed clearly in their faces.

  “Use this downtime to give your troops a break. You folks take one, too. I want everyone rested, relaxed and ready to launch Pegasus into the sky by oh-seven-hundred Monday morning.”

  He didn’t get any arguments. Dave noted how Doc Richardson’s glance skipped immediately to Jill Bradshaw. The blonde kept her expression deliberately neutral, but a slight flush rose in her cheeks. Dave would bet his last buck those two would have headed for the nearest motel as soon as this meeting broke up if not for the fact that Richardson stood next in order of rank.

  “Commander Richardson has the stick until I return,” Westfall said, confirming the doc’s seniority. “He’ll have to remain on-site during my absence, but the rest of you are free to take off.”

  “I haven’t been off-site since I arrived,” Russ McIver commented as the small group walked out into the bright morning sunlight. “I’ll have to figure out what to do with myself.”

  “How about we hit the links?” Dave suggested. “I’ve got my golf clubs stashed in my truck. I hear Fort Bliss has a great course.”

  “Sorry, never had time to learn the game.”

  Cari couldn’t resist. “Too busy polishing your combat boots?”

  Mac’s eyes narrowed. “My boots aren’t the only articles that need polishing around here, Lieutenant. Your attitude could use a little work.”

  “Is that right?” The Coast Guard officer smiled politely. “Are you going to put me in a brace and work on my military manners?”

  The marine gave her a long, considering look. “If I put you in a brace,” he said finally, “your manners wouldn’t be all we worked on.”

  Cari’s smile slipped. Before she could decide just how to respond, Mac tipped two fingers in a casual salute and strode off. Frowning, the brunette watched him disappear around a corner before she spun on her heel and headed in the opposite direction.

  “Well,” Kate murmured when the dust settled. “That was interesting.”

  “Very,” Jill Bradshaw agreed. The cop slanted a glance at Cody Richardson, and Dave guessed it wouldn’t be long before the two of them disappeared as well. The doc couldn’t leave the site, but this was a big site, with lots of long, empty stretches of road.

  Dave guessed right. Not ten seconds later Jill said she needed to run a perimeter check and Cody volunteered to run it with her. That left Kate, who surprised Dave by falling in with his original suggestion.

  “I’ve knocked around a few white balls in my time. I wouldn’t mind getting off-site for a few hours to find out if I’ve still got my swing.”

  She still had it. It was right there, in every long-legged stride. Dave could vouch for that.

  “What kind of handicap do you carry?” he asked, wondering if she was as good at golf as she seemed to be at everything else.

  “Seven.”

  Well, that answered that.

  “What’s yours?”

  “Twelve.”

  Her mouth curved in a smug smile. “Looks like I’ll have to give you some strokes, cowboy.”

  With a silent groan, Dave passed on that one.

  “Of course,” she continued, her competitive batteries already charging, “we’ll have to adjust for the fact that you’ll be using your own clubs and I’ll have to make do with rentals.”

  “Of course.”

  “And I’ll be in sneakers instead of golf shoes.”

  “Mine are soft spiked,” Dave protested.

  “Doesn’t matter. They still give you a better grip on the turf.”

  “All right, already. We’ll negotiate the handicaps when we get there. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

  Thinking that this week from hell just might end a whole lot more enjoyably than he would have imagined a few hours ago, Dave peeled off and headed for his trailer to change out of his uniform and into civvies.

  Kate couldn’t believe the weight that rolled off her shoulders as Dave’s battered pickup passed through the perimeter checkpoint. She loved working on the Pegasus project, was thrilled to have been chosen as the NOAA rep. Still, she hadn’t realized how the weeks of excitement and pressure had accumulated until the pickup hit the county road. With that transition from packed dirt to pavement, she felt as though she was reentering the world.

  Sighing, Kate slouched down in her seat. Desert landscape rolled by outside the pickup. Inside, the lively strains of Trisha Yearwood’s latest hit rolled from the radio.

  “Captain Westfall was right,” she commented as the song ended. “We needed to stand down and give folks a break. I can’t believe how good it feels to get off-site for a few hours.”

  Dave nodded, but didn’t comment. As the newest member of the group, Kate supposed he could hardly complain about the stress. Not that the entire cadre hadn’t done their best to pile it on him this week.

  If all those hours in the simulator had gotten to him, it didn’t show in his face or lazy slouch. Like Kate, he’d changed into comfortable slacks and a knit shirt. The short-sleeved shirt was collared, as required by many golf courses, and looked as though Ralph Lauren had designed it with him in mind. The cobalt color deepened the blue of his eyes and contrasted vividly with his tanned skin and tawny hair. Kate was still secretly admiring the way the knit stretched across his muscled shoulders when they passed through the small town of Chorro.

  A few miles beyond the town, Dave pulled up at an intersection. The two-lane county road they were traveling wound through the desert. To the west, it led to Las Cruces. To the east, to El Paso and the army post at Fort Bliss. The road intersecting it ran north toward Alamogordo and south to God knew where in Mexico.

  Dave hooked his wrists over the steering wheel and angled Kate a considering glance. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but it was clear he had some change of plan in mind.

  “Why the stop?” she asked.

  “I’m thinking we might extend this excursion for more than a few hours.”

  “Extend it how?”

  “I hear there’s a great course up by Ruidoso, at the Inn of the Mountain Gods. The fairways wind through the mountains and the tee boxes are at some of the highest elevation in the country. You hit a golf ball at seven thousand feet,” he offered as added inducement, “and it’ll fly almost to the next county.”

  “You take a swing at seven thousand feet,” Kate retorted, “and it’s all you can do to suck in enough air for another.”

  Rueful laughter filled his eyes. “I’ve been sucking in a whole bunch of air this week. I can manage more than one swing if you can.”

  It was the laughter that snagged her, not the challenge. Kate had had a front-row seat this past week. She’d witnessed Dave’s frustration, watched him push himself twice as hard as the team had pushed him. The fact that he could laugh at his failures—and had yet to brag about his successes—went a long way to altering her initial perception of him as just another hotshot sky jock.

  She glanced at the narrow road winding toward the distant mountains. “Isn’t Ruidoso a good hundred miles from here?”

  “More or less.”

  “It’ll take us all day to drive up there and squeeze in eighteen holes. We’ll be driving back through the mountains at night.”

  “Unless we decide to stay over.”

  “Stay over? I didn’t bring so much as a toothbrush with me. I don’t usually need one to play golf,” she tacked on with a touch of sarcasm.

  “Ever he
ar of drugstores?”

  Kate started to enumerate all the reasons why spinning a simple round of golf into a weekend expedition wasn’t a good idea. Number one on her list was the fact that their agreement to focus strictly on Pegasus applied while on-site. How they handled matters off-site had yet to be negotiated.

  To her disgust, Kate found that also topped her list of reasons to head for Ruidoso. She wasn’t stupid or into self-denial. This man turned her on. She thought she’d been inoculated against handsome charmers like Dave Scott. Obviously, the inoculation had worn off.

  He’d shown what he was made of this week. Maybe she should see what he was like away from their work environment. Discover if there was more to the man than that sexy body and his awesome skills as an aviator.

  “Why don’t we play this by ear?” she suggested. “See how long it takes to get there. And how we feel after eighteen holes.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me. Let me call and make sure we can get on the course this afternoon.”

  A quick call to information on his cell phone produced the number for the Inn of the Mountain Gods. The gods must have been smiling, because Dave managed to snag a 1:20 tee time that someone had just canceled. With a satisfied smile, he pocketed his cell phone, hooked an elbow on the window frame and aimed his pickup north.

  Kate fell instantly in love with Ruidoso.

  A onetime hideout of Billy the Kid, the old mining town was nestled high in the Sierra Blanca Mountains and surrounded by the Lincoln National Forest. Ski resorts, casinos, a racetrack, art galleries, boutiques and the many nearby lakes gave evidence that Ruidoso offered year-round fun for all ages and tastes.

  Kate could envision the town blanketed in fresh white powder. Imagine it in summer, swarming with tourists eager to escape the blistering heat at lower elevations. Almost see the profusion of wildflowers that must carpet the high meadows in spring.