by Jo Grafford
Bert nearly laughed out loud at her low, conspiring tone. Oh, she had a few very special activities in mind to share with Mrs. Bradshaw in the near future. A mischievous plan formed in her mind, one she couldn’t wait to confide in Kane and put into action.
The opportunity came two weeks later at the successful completion of their hot-air balloon. She and Kane had cheekily named it The Bride Herder in honor of Chance Redburn. They’d painted the passenger basket a pristine white and had added a gauzy white curtain to flutter behind it like a bridal veil. On the sky blue balloon, they’d painted puffy white clouds and the silhouette of a man on horseback riding into the sunset with his lasso in hand.
The balloon was currently affixed by tiny hooks to the long branch of an oak tree to hold it up. Soon it would be inflated with hot air and would be able to hold itself up.
Hands on her hips, Bert surveyed the finished product like a proud parent. It was sitting in an empty pasture behind the Redburn mansion, all ready to fire up and take on its debut jaunt into the skies. As planned, the passenger basket was plenty big enough to hold a third person. This afternoon, they had one very special guest in mind.
“Did you send her the message?” she inquired excitedly.
“A full hour ago,” Kane confirmed with a twinkle in his gaze. “Matthew assured me his sister would arrive at the crack of noon.”
“That’s only five minutes from now.” She glanced worriedly around the empty pasture.
“Do not fret. You can count on Matthew.” Kane pushed back his Stetson and busied himself at the burner. He and Bert had built theirs to be powered by coal gas. “Are you ready to set sail with me, partner?”
She beamed her approval at him. “Light him up!”
He struck a match and ignited the burner. A small blast of flame shot up through the mouth of the balloon, slowly inflating its reverse teardrop shape.
Bert watched in awe until her ears picked up the sound of a horse-drawn buggy approaching. She swiveled and shaded her eyes. Matthew Crutchfield was driving his sister, who was clutching her hat, in their direction. They arrived, and he assisted her down.
“My word!” Annabelle Bradshaw gasped as she surveyed the fast inflating balloon. “You young-uns did it. She’s a real beauty.” She kept one hand on her hat, since her wide brim kept catching the afternoon breezes.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw.” Finally! Something I’ve done that meets with your approval. At least, until we commence the next part of our plan. Bert sidled up beside her. “Are you ready to chaperone our first flight together?”
“Me? Why, er…” The widow’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish.
“Of course, you!” Kane converged on her other side, placing an arm around her shoulders. “As our faithful chaperone who precisely stated she wished to remain informed about all of Bert’s endeavors, you’re as much a part of this project as anyone else. It would break our hearts to leave you behind on our debut flight.”
Mrs. Bradshaw pointed with a finger that shook. “You expect me to go up in the air in that-that thing?”
“But, of course!” Bert trilled. “You of all people should understand how inappropriate it would be for Kane and me to go up alone.” She lowered her voice as if sharing a confidence and whispered. “Unchaperoned.”
Mrs. Bradshaw’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Perhaps, we could make an exception this once.”
“Not on your life.” Kane winked at Matthew Crutchfield behind his sister’s back.
His friend nodded back. “You’ll be making history, Annabelle,” he coaxed softly. He waved one hand in a slow arc. “The first woman in Bent, Colorado, to take to the skies. You’ve always been a trailblazer in society, sister.”
“I, well…” She glanced nervously at the flame shooting into the mouth of the balloon. “When you put it that way, h-how can I resist?”
Bert wished she had a cattle prod when it came time to board. Mrs. Bradshaw made little bleating noises and held on to the sides of the basket so hard her knuckles turned pasty.
Bert stepped in behind her and fastened the door shut.
Kane turned up the burner and sent a bigger blast of hot air into the balloon, which was filling quickly. It gave a small bounce along the ground.
Mrs. Bradshaw peered at her brother as he scrambled up the ladder they had propped beneath the oak tree. “Are you sure this is safe, Matthew?”
He unhooked the fasteners holding the balloon in place and set it free, then turned to give his sister a thumb’s up sign. He swiftly climbed down the ladder.
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” the woman muttered as he guided the slowly rising basket away from the tree by its tow rope.
Kane reached over to clasp Bert’s hand in his. “We did it, sweetheart!” Ignoring their moaning chaperone, he bent his head to brush his mouth over hers.
Mrs. Bradshaw gave a horrified shriek that made them jump apart. As it turned out, her scream had nothing to do with them. Her hat had blown off. She reached for it with flailing arms and watched helplessly as it floated to the ground. Her brother caught it and sent her another thumb’s up signal.
“Oh, dear heavens!” Mrs. Bradshaw groaned.
Dear heavens, indeed! Bert shivered with excitement. They were soaring straight towards the clouds.
Chapter 8: Balloon Race
Kane
Matthew Crutchfield followed the progress of The Bride Herder with his horse and wagon and was there to catch the rope Kane threw down to him when it was time to set the balloon back down. They landed with a small bump and skidded a few seconds along the ground.
Mrs. Bradshaw collapsed in her brother’s arms when he unlatched the basket door for them. “I think my heart stopped beating a few times,” she rasped through bloodless lips.
Kane hid a grin. In his mind, the woman deserved a few harrowing moments for all the grief she’d given Bert in recent weeks. Call him a cad, but he’d enjoyed every second of her discomfort while they were airborne. “Thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw.” He tipped his Stetson at her. “We’re much obliged to you for attending our debut flight and protecting Bert’s reputation. You know how folks can talk.” Folks like you.
She spared him a sickly smile. “My pleasure.” Her voice sounded weak. “Now if you’ll just get me home, Matthew. I’m afraid I feel a migraine coming on.”
“Goodbye, Mrs. Bradshaw!” Bert waved and smiled brightly at her retreating figure.
Kane slung an arm around her shoulders and watched with her as Matthew drove his sister away. “That was utterly diabolical of us, Miss Langston.”
“I know.” She chuckled. “Wasn’t it wonderful?”
“Every last moment of it.” He punctuated each word with a kiss on the top of her head.
She leaned in to throw her arms around his middle. “How long do you think we were up there?” She tipped her face up to his. “I’ll admit I lost all track of time.”
He was losing all track of time right now while gazing into her adoring dark eyes. “Ten minutes, I’d wager, and we had enough coal gas left to travel a good ten to twenty minutes more, I’d say.” It was a perfect afternoon with the sun shining overhead, their hot-air balloon slowly deflating, and the arms of the woman he loved surrounding him. Kane never wanted it to end.
“We’re ready for the race then.” She hugged him tighter. “That was more than enough time and fuel to travel from one side of the pasture to the other.”
“Yes. We are ready,” he agreed in satisfaction. Ten minutes of flying was about what their hot-air balloon race would require. It was about a quarter-mile stretch and would take place in this very pasture. Kane could already see the brightly colored tents of the food and souvenir vendors. Griff was fast finalizing the details of the related festivities.
“How many balloon owners have registered so far?” she asked anxiously.
“Nearly a dozen,” he affirmed with a frown of caution. “Matthew Crutchfield is one of them, just so you know.�
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“Matthew?” She wrinkled her nose up at him. “That bookish creature? Not that I’ve any objections, but how in the world did he manage to purchase a balloon on his small teaching salary?”
“He didn’t. He built it himself.” Kane figured this was the best time to share the worst of his news. “He’s experimenting with a double hydrogen burner.”
“My lands!” Bert’s eyes widened. “That sounds dangerous.”
He nodded grimly. It was.
“Very well, then.” She puffed out a sigh of resignation and unwound her arms from his middle. “If you can’t talk him out of it, we’d best arrange to have a fire brigade present.”
“I intend to, dear.” He nodded grimly, knowing there was no talking Matthew out of such an enthralling venture. Like Bert, the man knew no limits when it came to testing his own research and wizardry.
The day of the race dawned slightly overcast but with a promising rosy red glow in the distance. Kane and Griff rose at daybreak to get their ranch chores done early. Though Paisley’s babe was due any day, she and Train were holding down the inn. They had, however, taken the precaution of checking a midwife into one of the upstairs rooms just in case her services were needed in a pinch. They also had two of the Ladies Auxiliary widows on call to help out at the inn, if necessary.
With their sister taken care of for the day, Kane was able to relax and focus his energies on the hot-air balloon race. The Redburn pasture was alive with festivities by the time he and Griff arrived with The Bride Herder balloon loaded in the back of their wagon.
Bert jogged in their direction with her arms outstretched. “You made it!”
“You’re a sight to behold, darling!” Kane caught her in his arms and swung her around gleefully. It took a powerful effort, but he somehow resisted the urge to kiss her in full sight of the growing crowd.
A delicate clearing of a female throat made him set Bert down.
“Good morning, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he intoned, turning slowly to face her with one arm still slung around Bert’s waist. He couldn’t wait until he and Bert were married so they could be done once and for all with the persnickety woman’s services.
“It is, indeed,” she returned sunnily. “Although I was a bit scandalized by our dearest Bert’s choice of apparel when I first arrived.” Her smile dimmed as she scanned the offending garment.
Kane took a step away from his beloved to get a better eyeful of her and found her utterly fetching. She was a sight he would never tire of looking at.
He winked at her as he took in her demure navy blouse with one of those bows tied at her throat that she seemed to like so well. She’d paired the shirt with her striped navy and buttery yellow skirt he’d seen her in several times before. Frowning, he turned back to Mrs. Bradshaw. “Honestly? I find no fault with her appearance, and you shouldn’t either, ma’am.” He was weary of her constant badgering of the woman he intended to marry.
“Yooooooo, Bert!” Halfway across the field, Chance Redburn had his hands cupped around his mouth. Violet, Jasmine, and Abigail were pressed close to his elbows. All four of them were waving and beckoning her in their direction. Their grizzled old chef, Beans, was hovering behind them. He was running a soup stand, but the presence of a cameraman standing nearby was most likely the reason they required Bert’s presence. They wanted her to pose for a picture with them.
“Look again!” the widow returned tartly as Bert sauntered away.
Don’t mind if I do, not that I care for your tone. Kane took another pass over Bert’s skirts and started to grin. The sly lass had altered them. They were now split down the middle, giving her much more freedom of stride. To her credit, she’d not reduced their fullness and turned them into outright trousers. Thus, when she was standing still, they still resembled the skirt they used to be.
“She’s the most clever woman I’ve ever met, and she looks especially lovely today,” he announced proudly. That’s my Bert. She was the loveliest woman present at the races.
“Well, I never!” Mrs. Bradshaw sniffed. She lifted her chin and sailed in the opposite direction.
Good riddance! Shaking his head, Kane returned to the wagon to help Griff unload their hot-air balloon. The Bride Herder was looking tip-top with a fresh bridal veil fluttering down one side of its passenger basket.
“Are you taking your chaperone up with you again?” Griff inquired with a mischievous twinkle in his gaze.
“Not if I can help it.” Kane rolled his eyes. “It’s hard to believe that woman was ever married. She’s been a burr on my backside ever since I started courting Bert.”
“Whatever you’ve suffered, it’s been far worse for Bert.” Griff tipped his hat back to grin at Bert who was flying across the field again in their direction. She was garnering quite a few stares with her scandalously split skirt.
“Something I plan to put a stop to soon,” Kane assured grimly.
“And how might you be planning to go about doing that?” Griff demanded.
“By marrying her,” Kane growled.
“Ah.” Griff nodded approvingly. “Have you brought up the topic yet with your intended?”
“Soon,” Kane promised as Bert sailed up to them. “Very, very soon.”
“My insides are buzzing with butterflies,” Bert confessed, placing a hand over her midsection.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Kane was surprised to hear her admit her reservations aloud. She normally kept her chin high, no matter how she was feeling. “We’ve been up for three test runs.” During various times of day and wind speeds. “Not only are we ready, our chances of winning are excellent!”
“Oh, I’m not the least worried about flying.” Bert waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s the Redburns I’m worried about. They took a real chance on me, you know.” She lowered her voice. “Taking me under their wings and all. I’m not like the others.”
“Thank God for that!” Kane declared. “I happen to like you just the way you are, partner.”
She flushed and shot him a grateful look. “You know what I mean,” she insisted. “That’s why it’s vitally important for us to have a good showing in today’s race. No, I want more than that. I want to win.” She gave a rueful chuckle. “Not just for the cash pot, although that would be mighty welcome. I need this win to make the Redburns proud of me, and I need it to show the rest of the town they were right to take a chance on me.”
“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, then a win is exactly what we will deliver.” He opened up the ladder and popped a fist on the inner braces to make sure they were fully extended before he climbed it to attach their balloon hooks to the nearest tree.
Bert said nothing else about her hopes and fears after he folded the ladder away. She was all-business again, tinkering with the rudder she’d updated the evening before. “I’ve adjusted it, so I can extend the paddle section open much wider than last time. This should give us more control with the steering.”
Kane couldn’t think of many reasons why they would need to steer over such a short distance, but he kept his silence. If Bert was happy with her updated rudder, then he was happy.
The excitement in the air intensified as the other contestants arrived and started to assemble their balloons. It was a cheerful site with balloons and baskets of all colors and designs rowed up on one side of the field. Just as wonderful was the crowd of people gathered to watch. Several hundred townsfolk were present. Plus, there was a decent number of men, women, and children Kane didn’t recognize, which meant their event had succeeded in drawing in tourists. Lining both sides of the racing field were wagons and tents bearing the wares of a rather impressive collection of food and souvenir vendors.
Kane hoped the hot-air balloon race was a big enough success to make it the first of many events of its kind. They’d call it the Annual Bent Hot-Air Balloon Festival.
“There’s Matthew Crutchfield.” Bert laid a hand on his arm. “He’s all alone. If you’ve no objections, I’d like t
o offer to help him set up. Might not be a bad idea to rest my eyeballs on his new hydrogen burners. They’re my biggest worry today,” she confessed.
“A great idea. I’ll go with you.” He straightened his Stetson and glanced down at his white shirt and brown leather vest. Thankfully, he’d not stained or torn anything while setting up their balloon. He wanted to do his part in making Bert and her friends proud today.
Arm-in-arm, they approached Matthew Crutchfield’s wagon and found him puffing with exertion to lift the basket down, unassisted.
“Here. Allow me, my friend.” Kane dropped Bert’s arm and hurried forward to add his strength to the mix.
The moment they set the basket on the ground, Matthew straightened with a frown. “You can go now.” He waved them away. “I’m trying out a new set of burners, and I’ve no wish for the competition to get a look at them just yet.”
“Maybe you can create a distraction while I sneak a peek,” Bert hissed in Kane’s ear.
He sighed. “You heard the man,” he muttered in undertones. “I think it’s best to leave him be for now.”
Her lush mouth twisted in irritation. “Even if he starts a fire in mid-air?”
“I reckon he understands the risks he taking, darling.”
Matthew must have overheard his last comment, because he shooed them away with both hands. “Yes, I do. Now leave me to it.”
Kane led Burt back to The Bride Herder with her muttering every step of the way.
“He’s a fool if I ever met one,” Bert declared furiously as she tested the ropes holding their balloon in place. “My gut is telling me I’m going to live to regret not making a bigger fuss about his infernal contraption before the races begin.”
“And I adore you all the more for being so concerned about my friend. However, today he’s the competition.” Kane patted her shoulder as he rounded the basket. “We’ll treat him as such until we win the race and sweep the winnings from beneath his scholarly nose. Afterwards, we can go back to worrying about his eccentricities.”