Lone Star Heartbreaker (2 page)

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Authors: Anne Marie Novark

BOOK: Lone Star Heartbreaker
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"I know you wil . You've always pul ed through tough times before. You'l get through this, too." Austin looked up at the stars glittering in the night sky.

"Anyway, what I wanted to ask is if you've found another pilot yet. You've gone through them like they're a dime a dozen, which they're not. First Gus, then Duffy, then that other guy--I can't even remember his name. I don't know how you've kept Lone Star Wings solvent since your accident. And now crop-dusting season is right around the corner. I need an herbicide application on the south farm soon. Like in yesterday. Time is money, Ty."

Tyler inhaled a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "You're not tel ing me anything I don't already know. And you're not the only one hurting. The phone's been ringing night and day with people wanting to schedule applications. But help is on the way. I'm happy to say I've
finally
found another pilot to fly my planes. She should be here Monday or Tuesday."

"
She
should arrive?" Austin looked at him in surprise. "You're going to let a woman fly your precious airplanes?"

"Yeah, so what? I know a lot of women who fly, and Ms. Ross has an impressive resume. Wel , she'd have to, right? I wouldn't trust just anyone with my babies."

"Impressive resume, huh? This should prove mighty interesting." Austin grinned. "Mighty interesting indeed."

"Cut the crap. This is business, not pleasure." Tyler slugged him one last time and made it extra hard.

****

Late Tuesday morning, Tyler watched as an old battered pickup truck turned off the pavement onto the dirt road leading to his airfield and crop-dusting compound. The dry red West Texas dirt crunched beneath the tires. He squinted against the bright June sunshine. The old pickup groaned under the weight of an equal y old camper and heroical y hauled a dilapidated trailer loaded with what looked like the fuselage and various other parts of a vintage biplane.

What the hell was this?
Sitting beneath the lone hackberry tree in front of hangar number two, he watched the truck inch its way closer. Could this be the ag pilot he'd hired? And what was with the ancient plane she was towing behind her truck? If he wasn't mistaken, it looked like an old Pitts Special.

When the entourage final y pul ed to a stop in front of the hangar, Tyler took another sip of coffee and waited. A big yel ow dog poked its head out the passenger side window and stared at Tyler with intel igent brown eyes. The woman sat behind the steering wheel and peeked around the dog at him. She made no move to get out of the truck. The dog barked and she petted its neck, shushing it, murmuring words of comfort.

For the dog or for herself, Tyler couldn't tel . Even from this distance, her low husky voice drifted over him, warm and smooth like good Kentucky sipping whiskey going down.

Wel , hel . Looked like his body had final y awakened from its long dormant sleep. Good to know that part of him was stil in working order.

The woman gave the dog one last kiss, then she waved at Tyler before unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck.

"Hel o," she said, walking around the front of the pickup, not stopping until she stood directly in front of Tyler. She stuck out her hand. "Tyler McCade? I'm Caitlyn Ross. Nice to final y meet you." She looked around, green eyes wide. "Wow! This is some set-up you have. Crop dusting must do good business around here." With hand stil extended, she looked Tyler up and down. "Oh my God, you're hurt! You didn't say anything about being hurt when we talked on the phone."

"No, I didn't." Keenly aware of her scrutiny, Tyler reached for his crutches and slowly, painful y stood. Once he'd balanced himself, he shook hands with his new pilot. He'd almost forgotten how smal and warm and soft a woman's hand could be. "Welcome to Lone Star Wings and the Diamondback Ranch."

Caitlyn withdrew her hand and looked him up and down. "So you're
Tyler McCade
. Air show stunt pilot extraordinaire! Mr.
Do or Die
McCade!"

Tyler winced at the nickname he'd picked up on the air show circuit. If only they could see him now. "Yep, that would be me."

"Wow! I stand in the presence of greatness," she said with a smile in her eye. "But what in the world happened to you?"

"An accident."

"Accident?
As in . . .?
" She left the words hanging.

"Yeah, as in . . . " Tyler pointed with one of his crutches toward the field on the right, "as in plane crash." His throat tightened on the words. Oh yeah.

It had been a life-changing moment al right.

Caitlyn looked at the crashed plane out in the field. It was hard to miss. He should know. It had mocked him for months since the accident. He hoped she didn't ask too many questions, because he didn't have any answers.

"At least you're in better shape than your plane," she said, looking at him again.

"Not by much." He adjusted his weight on the crutches. He stil hurt like hel . And at the rate he was healing, he didn't know if he'd ever ful y recover.

And that scared the living crap out of him. He lived to fly, damn it. If he couldn't fly, he might as wel be dead.

Caitlyn stared at his crutches. "No wonder you were advertising for an experienced pilot."

"Yeah. No wonder." Tyler's leg throbbed, and pain lanced his thigh. He stumbled backward, and Caitlyn grabbed his arm.

"Don't!" He jerked away, ignoring the heat of her touch and careful y lowered himself into his chair again.

"Sorry." Caitlyn stepped back, her emerald eyes ful of concern and something else Tyler refused to acknowledge. He didn't want her pity. God, how he hated feeling so weak and helpless.

She stood there looking down at him. Silence hung heavy between them and threatened to stretch into awkwardness. Thankful y, the dog barked before it became too embarrassing.

"Excuse me," Caitlyn said. "Do you mind if I let my dog out? She's been cooped up for hours."

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Thanks, I won't be long." She jogged over to her truck and petted the dog, nuzzled her nose in the yel ow fur, cooing al the while. The dog wiggled and trembled, making happy dog sounds. When she opened the door, the big yel ow Lab bounded out, ran around the truck and trailer three times, found a patch of grass to do her business, then ran back and plunked her butt in front of her mistress.

Caitlyn squatted down and ruffled the dog's fur, rubbing her ears, whispering unintel igible words. The dog ate it up; her tail wagged a mile a minute.

Lucky mutt.

Tyler had to admit Caitlyn Ross was one mighty fine looking woman. Something about her was vaguely familiar. Those eyes were kil er and the sprinkle of freckles over her smal nose attractive. Her short blond hair tumbled around her head in a glorious mess, begging a man to run his fingers through the silky curls. She wasn't very tal , but she had a knockout body with luscious curves that tempted a man to try his luck with her, as Tyler would have undoubtedly done once upon a time.

But not now. Now al he could do was wish that things could be the same as before.

Caitlyn returned to Tyler's side, smiling big and wide. She had a beautiful smile. Again that long-absent arousal tugged low in his groin.

The dog dashed up, bumping Caitlyn's hand with her head, begging to be petted. Caitlyn squatted down again, giving the dog more loving attention.

Tyler watched the woman pet her dog. "What's her name?" he asked, wondering how it would feel if al that loving attention were aimed his way.

"Reba." The dog recognized her name, barked and licked Caitlyn's face. The woman laughed; a deep throaty laugh. "Yes, you
are
a good dog.

Yes, you are." Another kiss, another ruffle of fur. "I found her at a campground several months ago. She was skinny and filthy. We're good friends now."

"I can tel ." Tyler picked up his coffee and took a sip. He stared at the attractive young woman. She was doing a number on him; that was for sure.

"What's with the plane on the trailer?"

She looked toward her truck. "It was my dad's. It's al I have left."

"He passed away?" He set his cup on the table, not liking the soft tremble in her voice.

"Last year." She mustered another smile. "Dad taught me to fly. He was retired Air Force and owned a flight school and air taxi business just outside of San Antonio. After I graduated from high school, I helped out with the flying and the teaching. And the maintenance, of course."

"What happened to his company?"

"It went bankrupt. I had to sel everything to pay off his debts. I stil owe quite a bit."

"Damn, that's tough."

"Yeah, wel . . . Dad was great with planes; not so great when it came to business." She pointed to the truck and trailer. "That's basical y al I own.

Finding this job was a stroke of good luck. Truth is, I can't do much of anything except fly."

Caitlyn gave Reba one last pat then straightened to her ful height, which had to be al of five feet two. She smiled again with a cheerfulness that looked forced. Tyler guessed Caitlyn had been putting on a good face in order to deal with her losses. Just as he'd been doing for the past six months.

She gazed at him out of those kil er eyes. "So, I'm sure there's paperwork to fil out. In our emails, you said there were hookups for my rig?" She looked around the airfield as if searching for a place she could park her truck and camper.

"Right." Tyler grabbed his crutches again and winced when that familiar throbbing blasted through his left knee. He should have taken another pain pil this morning, except he was trying to wean himself off. He might be weak and helpless, but he sure as hel didn't want to be dependent on drugs.

That was no way to get back in the cockpit. He needed a clear head if he wanted to fly again. And he
wanted
to fly again. More than anything else in the world. He hated being grounded.

Slowly, he heaved himself up and out of the chair again. "We'l go to my office. There are a couple more questions I want to ask, then we'l fil out the paperwork and sign the contract." He started for the other hangar, where his office was located.

Caitlyn walked beside him toward the hangar housing several of his planes. "Looks like you run quite an operation here. Just how big is the Diamondback Ranch anyway?"

Tyler kept his eyes on the rocky ground before him and tried not to inhale too deeply. Caitlyn's subtle fragrance smel ed delicious. "We own ten sections. Sixty-four hundred acres. It's been in my family for three generations."

"Good gracious, that's a lot of land. Three generations, huh?"

"Yeah. My brothers and I own and operate it together. Along with my mother. My sister also owns a portion, but she's away at col ege."

"So this is truly a family-owned operation. And y'al get along okay?"

Tyler stopped walking and lifted his head. He gazed into her green eyes. This close he could see the ring of gold surrounding the irises.

For a moment, she held her ground and returned his stare. Then she stepped back, a blush staining her high cheekbones. "Do y'al get along?" she asked again.

Tyler nodded. "Yeah, sure. For the most part. We have our disagreements now and again; we try to resolve them as quickly as possible. Business is business. Personal is personal. We try to keep them separate."

"But you don't always succeed?" She smiled and a dimple showed near the left side of her mouth.

He tried not to let his gaze linger, but he couldn't help himself. The woman had a mouth made for kissing.

"No, we don't always succeed." He hitched the crutches under his arms. "Once in a while, we duke it out just like when we were kids. Only we make sure it's not in front of Mom."

Caitlyn laughed. "How many brothers do you have?"

"Three. Dal as is the oldest, then Cameron, then Austin. I'm next in age, and my sister is the baby. Tori's studying to be a vet; she loves animals."

Caitlyn sighed wistful y. "Sounds lovely. I'm an only child."

"Sometimes, I wish I were an only child." Tyler thought about everyone butting into his business.
Especially
since the accident.

She shook her head and her tangle of curls bounced. "Believe me. You don't. Now that both my folks are gone, I have no family. It's not fun to feel so alone." She sighed. "Anyway, I'm sure you don't want to hear my life story."

Tyler stepped closer. "I'd like to get to know you better."

Her eyes dilated and her breath hitched. It seemed the sensual feelings racing through his bloodstream weren't only on his side.
Sweet.

"You would?" Her voice was low and soft; her eyes searched his.

What the hel was he doing? He shouldn't be thinking about getting naked with Caitlyn. She was here to fly his planes, not warm his bed. Tyler tightened his hands on the crutches, instead of moving nearer and kissing those delectable lips.

Even so. Life was looking far better now than it had since the accident. Because Caitlyn was here to help him pul his business out of a sinkhole.

Not
because the sexual attraction between them had instantaneously combusted.

Liar.

"Wel , yeah," he said. "We're going to be working together, right? So of course, I'd like to get to know you better." Inside and out.
Cut the crap,
McCade.

"Of course." Caitlyn cleared her throat and deliberately put some space between them. She looked off into the distance where acres and acres of fields stretched as far as the eye could see. Mesquite trees and prickly pear cactus dominated the rugged landscape that wasn't under cultivation.

On the horizon, two lonely mountains stood guard over the surrounding flat plains. "It's so beautiful here. And the air's even drier than back home.

Do those have a name?" she said, pointing toward the mountains.

Tyler swiveled his body around on the crutches and gazed toward the eastern horizon. "Those are the Double Mountains. They've been a landmark in these parts since Indian times."

"Indian times," Caitlyn repeated. "What must it have been like way back then?"

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