“Let’s get closer,” Gina urged, taking Aspen’s hand and pulling her toward the balloon. As they approached, Aspen noted the lead chase vehicle and attached equipment trailer both had The Buccaneer blazoned on their sides. The pilot hit the burner, and the balloon slowly swayed to and fro, emulating the appearance of being tossed on gentle waves.
“I love it!” Aspen giggled, snapping more photos. “It’s definitely my favorite special shape. How about you?”
When Gina—who was usually so verbose—did not respond, Aspen looked over to see her friend staring in the opposite direction, mouth agape in astonishment.
“What is it?” Aspen asked, following her friend’s gaze. She knew at once why Gina’s attention had been arrested from the buccaneer. She giggled when she saw the enormous brown UPS truck swaying to and fro, just as the buccaneer did.
“I can’t believe it!” Gina exclaimed in a whisper. “It’s a sign or something. It has to be!”
“A sign?” Aspen asked, giggling at her friend’s awed expression.
“Seriously!” Gina assured her. “I mean…a UPS truck special shapes balloon? How can it not be a sign?”
“A sign of what?” Aspen asked, still giggling.
“I don’t know! Just a sign. Come on!”
Aspen laughed as Gina took hold of her hand and began pulling her toward the UPS truck balloon.
“Oh my heck!” Aspen exclaimed as they neared the balloon. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The entire UPS truck chase crew was dressed head to toe in UPS uniforms. “If this isn’t your own dream come true, Gina…I don’t know what is!”
“Look! A whole slew of them!” Gina breathed.
“Yep! Definitely your dream come true…a whole slew of UPS men!”
Aspen heard Gina gasp and looked over to see her put a hand over her heart.
“It’s him!” she breathed.
“Who?” Aspen asked.
“Him! The UPS guy from my mom’s house…a-and the bookstore that day you were dressed up like a big pink dog!” Gina whispered. Gina pointed to one of the men standing near the basket talking to the balloon pilot. Sure enough, it was him. The same wavy brown hair—the same handsome UPS guy!
“Nuh uh!” Aspen said, frowning. Surely she was imagining things. Surely they both were! There had to be millions of UPS guys working in and around Albuquerque. What were the odds of the same UPS guy who delivered to the bookstore on the west side being right there with them on the balloon field? Then again, what were the odds of the same guy having delivered to Gina’s parents’ house too? “Maybe it is a sign,” Aspen breathed.
“It has to be a sign!” Gina exclaimed.
“Go talk to him then,” Aspen urged, poking Gina in the ribs with one elbow.
“No way! I can’t mess up the sign!” Gina said.
“Mess up the sign?” Aspen exclaimed. “Maybe that’s the reason for the sign. Maybe you’re supposed to walk right up to him and propose!”
“No,” Gina said. “That can’t be it.”
Cheering erupted nearby, and Aspen turned around to see the Santa Claus balloon slowly lifting off. The fish balloon followed shortly.
“They’re starting to go,” Aspen said, turning to look at Gina. But her friend stood mesmerized, eyes wide and watching as the handsome UPS guy climbed into the basket of the UPS truck balloon.
“Oh my heck! He’s going up,” Gina exclaimed.
Sure enough, Aspen and Gina watched as two other UPS-uniform-clad men climbed into the basket. As the ground crew released the last tether, the UPS truck balloon began to ascend. Aspen giggled and heard Gina gasp as the handsome UPS man from the bookstore smiled and waved at them.
Aspen returned his wave, jabbing Gina in the ribs with one elbow to remind her to do so too.
“And there he goes,” Gina breathed. “The man of my dreams!”
“We forgot to take a picture!” Aspen squealed, pointing her camera in the direction of the escaping balloon and keeping the shutter button depressed so it would snap a series of consecutive photographs.
Aspen stood silent, watching the giant UPS truck balloon ascend higher and higher. She glanced to Gina and saw the frown of disappointment puckering her brow.
“We could run to the car really quick and try to chase it if you want,” Aspen said. “Maybe we could get close again when it lands.”
Gina shook her head and exhaled a frustrated sigh. “No. It’s okay. I’m just being stupid.”
Aspen knew Gina was thinking of Nick—the jerk. Nick had done such a number on Gina. Aspen loathed him for breaking her best friend’s heart. For a moment, anxiety washed over her once more as she thought of Rake. Would he break her heart too? Aspen had watched Gina struggle and battle depression, low self-esteem, and everything else negative because of Nick’s cruelty. She suddenly had a vision of herself struggling the same way—a vision of Rake dumping her flat the way Nick had dumped Gina. Still, in truth, Gina had had a narrow escape. Nick Dalley was a jerk, and Aspen knew it was good Gina had found out what a total jerk he was before they’d gotten married. All the worse it would’ve been had Gina married Nick, only then to find out the truth.
Gina sighed, shook her head, and forced a smile. “Well, if it’s meant to be…then it won’t be the last time I see him, right?”
“Exactly,” Aspen confirmed. Her own anxieties were still rising, however, and she inhaled a deep breath of calm. Less than twenty-four hours remained until she would see Rake again. Less than twenty-four hours and she’d be with him—able to try and read him again. Part of her still maintained he would turn out to be an egotistical jerk, but that was only the defensive part of her—the part warning her of impending heartache. Surely Rake was of a better character than Nick Dalley! She shook her head, dispelling all doubtful thoughts. Of course he was better. Through simply the way he’d treated her thus far, he’d proven he was better.
“Oh, the buccaneer is ready to launch!” Gina exclaimed. She took hold of Aspen’s arm and began pulling her back toward the enormous pirate ship balloon.
Aspen laughed, delighted by her friend’s returning enthusiasm.
“I’m glad the Santa already launched,” Aspen said. “Now we can get some really good pictures of the ship.”
“There it goes!” Gina giggled.
Aspen sighed as she watched a crew member release the last tether. The buccaneer slowly lifted. Looking like an enchanted phantom ship, the balloon ascended—a vision of wonderment against the blue of morning’s sky.
“It’s beautiful!” Aspen sighed, taking several more photographs.
In that moment—as she watched the giant ship-shaped balloon rise farther into the atmosphere—Aspen thought of Rake. Was he still in bed? Or was he somewhere on the west side, watching the special shapes take to the air? She wondered if a person could see the balloons drifting over the river from the parking lot of the Clock Shop.
Her heart leapt, trillions of butterflies taking flight in her stomach as she thought of meeting him in the morning—of riding out on horseback to the riverbank to watch the mass ascension. Her mouth watered at the memory of his kiss, and she again wondered if Rake could now see the beautiful buccaneer ship adrift in a sky bluer than any sea.
Rake raised a hand, shading his eyes from the brilliance of the morning sun. Yep, the special shapes were in the air, and he couldn’t help but smile. Ever since he was a kid, he’d loved the balloons—been glad the balloon fiesta was held in Albuquerque every year. Of course, as a child, the special shapes had always been his favorite. He preferred the regular shapes now—or the regular shapes mixed in with a few of the special shapes. The regular shapes were more soothing somehow—or so he thought.
He wondered if Aspen were having fun with her friend at the Special Shapes Rodeo. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to crash their party—not to show up at the balloon field just to see Aspen, even for a few moments. But this was her time with her friend, and he knew girls needed their space, just like
guys.
His mouth watered as he thought of kissing her—as he remembered the feel of holding her in his arms, the scent of her skin. Oh, yeah! He knew he was in trouble, but he’d calmed down a bit since his grandparents’ barn party—gotten his head screwed back on straight. Sure, he liked Aspen—a whole lot more than he wanted to consciously admit—but he wouldn’t be caught in any traps this time. Still, his heart did a somersault in his chest cavity when he thought of the prospect of seeing her in less than twenty-four hours.
“Cowboy up, Rake,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Get a grip. She’s just fun…that’s all.”
He chuckled, however, when he saw a new special shape balloon drift over—a brown UPS truck balloon. Aspen had mentioned her friend had a thing for UPS guys, and he wondered if the two of them had seen the new special shapes balloon. The UPS balloon was traveling low, probably trying to hit a sandbar nearby.
The balloon was low enough Rake could easily see the passengers in the basket.
“Good morning!” he called.
“Good morning!” the pilot called.
“Hey, Rake!” one of the passengers shouted. “Is that you, man?”
Rake moved his hand, more adeptly shading the sun from his view. He smiled, recognizing the man at once.
“Sean! No way, man!” he hollered. “You didn’t tell me anything about this!”
“It was a last-minute thing, man!” his friend Sean called. “I’ll give you details later. We’re gonna try and hit the sandbar.”
“Good luck, man! I’ve seen three miss it already this morning.”
“Thanks, man!” Sean called, waving.
Rake watched as the giant UPS truck headed toward the clearing in the middle of the river. He knew special shapes had an even harder time than other balloons trying to land or basket-bump the sandbar in the middle of the river. For one thing, they were so much bigger. He laughed as he watched the balloon descend—held his breath as he saw the basket full of passengers near the sandbar.
“Oops!” he chuckled as he saw the basket miss the sandbar and touch down in the river. The pilot was good, however, hit the burner, and sent the balloon ascending once more. They barely cleared the trees. As Sean shrugged then waved, Rake raised his arm and waved again.
“They almost had it,” he said to himself. He chuckled again as he hunkered down and rearranged the tinder and logs in the small fire pit. He didn’t know why he was going to so much trouble to make sure everything was ready down by the river for his date with Aspen the next morning. He could tell she was the kind of girl who didn’t expect all the bells and whistles about anything. Still, he wanted to make sure everything he could do ahead of time was done.
He heard the slow blast of a burner and glanced up.
“Nice!” he breathed as he saw the buccaneer balloon appear overhead. He stood up and shaded his eyes once more. “Awesome!”
Rake had only seen this particular special shapes balloon once, years before, but the same thrill rose up in him at the sight of it—the same youthful excitement he’d felt when first he’d seen it.
Sails and hull inflated, the buccaneer drifted across the sky in a perfect vision of fantasy. He heard the burner again—watched, mesmerized, as the balloon floated over the river toward the west.
He chuckled, thinking that if he were still a kid, he would’ve been convinced it was Captain Hook himself steering across the early October atmosphere.
He rubbed his left arm, remembering how badly his skin had itched inside the cast when he’d broken it at age four—when he’d thought of a happy thought and jumped off the roof, certain he could fly like Peter Pan.
Thoughts of Peter Pan kicked his mind back to the pretty, pixie-dusted fairy he’d kissed almost a week before. He wondered if Aspen had seen the buccaneer balloon launch from the balloon field. His mouth began to water at the thought of her, and he shoved his left foot in the stirrup and mounted Jerry, his grandpa’s old buckskin gelding.
Rake clicked his tongue and sent Jerry off at a quick trot. He shook his head as he rode, realizing that every time he thought of Aspen, he felt like a stupid teenager—all excited and wound up with anticipation. He had less than twenty-four hours to kick himself back into the mindset of a watchmaker in his midtwenties—twenty-four hours before he’d be tempted by cute little Aspen Falls. Besides, he told himself, she’d be dressed for cool weather—a sweatshirt and jeans rather than a pretty little fairy costume that showed off her figure and smooth, fragrant skin. Furthermore, it would be early morning. Surely he’d have more self-control then, when a cool morning was chafing his cheeks—more self-control than he’d obviously had on a warm romantic midnight.
As he rode, he noticed the way the cottonwood leaves had seemed to change overnight. Where there was still a majority of green leaves the week before, now there was nearly all gold. He glanced at the river—smooth and serene as glass. He shook his head, amused by the lines of Aspen’s poem popping into his head. He thought of the references to gold ribbons being woven through the mountain’s hair—which led him to thinking of the soft ribbons that had been woven through Aspen’s hair the night of his grandparents’ party.
As he rode beneath the ribbon of gold along the river he mumbled, “‘So the moon wove his fingers of moonbeams through the gold amidst mountain’s hair.’” He mused that if he could have a favorite line from a poem—and that thought alone disturbed him—it would be that one. That one—or the very last lines. He frowned, trying to remember the exact phrase at the end of the poem, but it escaped him. He looked back at the buccaneer balloon. It was fast disappearing behind the cottonwoods.
“‘And the moon and mountain blend kisses as the time of aspen falls.’ That’s it,” he mumbled, suddenly having remembered the poem’s conclusion.
He clicked his tongue again, urging Jerry on at a quicker pace. It was time to distract himself from the idea of blending kisses with Aspen. What the hell was she doing to him? Poetry bouncing around in his head—where there should be nothing but a focus on work and moving that load of rock for his grandpa when he got back to the house.
“Aspen Falls,” he breathed, frowning. “I think you’re getting too far under my skin.” He exhaled and gritted his teeth. “Come on, Jerry,” he growled, nudging the horse with his heels. He needed a gallop, needed to get back to the house and move that rock for his grandpa, needed to get his mind off Aspen and her pretty smile—her pretty mouth!
Chapter Ten
“Oh, I remember when I was young,” Charlotte Locker sighed. “Young enough to enjoy getting up in the dead of night to ride down to the river.”
“You’re still young, Gramma,” Rake said, bending down to kiss his grandmother on one cheek.
“They’ll be launching the balloons in about an hour, Rake,” Joseph Locker said. “You better get your girl on out there before your grandma makes you miss ’em.” Joseph grinned at Aspen, and she blushed when he whispered, “You see, I’m on your side. Wanna make sure you two have plenty of time left for some serious necking.” He winked, and Aspen thought she might explode from embarrassment.
“Do you have everything you need, honey?” Charlotte asked Rake.
“Yep. I already packed the saddlebags, and I left everything else out there yesterday,” Rake answered. He finished the last bite of one of his grandmother’s breakfast burritos, rinsed his plate, and stacked it in the sink.
“I thought we were just riding out to watch the ascension,” Aspen asked. “What did you need to pack?”
Rake smiled. “You can’t sit by the river and watch the balloons without hot chocolate. How would you stay warm?”
“Keeping warm…that’s what the necking is for,” Joseph chuckled, winking at Aspen again. This time she put a hand to one of her crimson cheeks. What a tease Rake’s grandpa was! It grew more and more obvious from whom Rake inherited his teasing sense of humor.
“Joseph! Now you stop that,” Charlotte scolded, putting a comforting arm around Aspen’
s shoulders. “You’ll scare her off completely!”
“Oh, she won’t scare off too easy,” Joseph said. Aspen did not miss the familiar twinkle of mischief in his eyes—so exactly like Rake’s. “I figure if Rake’s as good at necking as I was in my day…” he began, nuzzling his wife’s neck with his chin.
“Now you stop that, Joseph Locker!” Charlotte giggled. “Stop that right this minute!”
“Come on, Aspen,” Rake said, taking hold of her arm. “Let’s leave Gramma and Grampa to their necking.” He laughed and said, “We’ll see you two later,” as he pulled her toward the front door.
“Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Locker,” Aspen said over her shoulder.
“You’re welcome, honey. You kids have fun now!” Charlotte called. Aspen smiled as she heard the elderly woman giggle and tell her husband to behave himself in front of the children.
“We will, Gramma,” Rake chuckled.
Aspen smiled as they left the house. It was still dark—a cool and crisp October morning.
“Did you spend a lot of time with your grandpa when you were growing up?” she asked.
“Yeah. Why?” Rake answered.
Aspen shrugged. “Just wondering.” Aspen had noticed how much Rake was like his grandfather, even down to the way he walked—a sort of rhythmic saunter.
“I’m gonna have you ride Jerry,” he said as he led her toward the two horses tied to a nearby tree. “He’s really gentle and knows the riverbank.”
“Thanks,” Aspen said. She smiled as she watched Rake untie the buckskin horse’s reins.
“Come on, Jerry,” he said, leading the horse to Aspen. “You’ll like Aspen. She smells good.”
The Time of Aspen Falls Page 17