STARTING OVER (4 page)

"I'm calling about a job you have listed in the Houston Post..." a voice on the other end of the line began.

"I'm sorry, but that position has been filled," Kate answered before dropping the receiver back onto its cradle. Returning her gaze to Rusty, she extended her hand toward him and watched as it was swallowed up in his large, warm grasp. "I'll have to make a couple calls to your references. But if everything checks out and you think you can live with little money and even less benefits, then I'd like to offer you a job with C-Breeze. We can discuss the rest of the details tomorrow."

Rusty's
smile widened as he nodded. "You won't regret it."

Chapter Two

Rusty's
shiny midnight blue pickup truck was already parked in front of the office when Kate arrived the next day. Even though she was running almost an hour behind schedule, she justified it because it had been late when she left the evening before.

Although she had already decided to hire Rusty, she knew how important it was that she
choose the right person for the job, so she had stayed to make the calls to his former employers. She would have regretted having to change her mind if the reports were not good, but she didn't have to worry. Not only did they give glowing recommendations about him, but they all asked her to pass on their desire that he come back to work for them if he ever left her employ.

But in all fairness, before Rusty made an actual commitment, she planned on having an in-depth discussion with him that morning about what she hoped to do with the company. With its shaky foundation and her own inexperience, she wouldn't be surprised if he changed his mind before the day was over.

The baby moved inside her and gave a sharp kick of its tiny foot against her rib cage. Kate covered the spot with her hand and spoke aloud, "Yes, I know we need him. I want to stay home with you and not have to worry about the business for at least a couple of weeks after you're born. Now, if only I can find him and..."

The clatter of metal against concrete drew her attention, and she walked around the end of the office building. Rusty had climbed up the rungs on the side of the old helicopter and was peering inside the open engine cowl.

"Morning, ma'am," he called down to her, his voice entirely too cheerful for so early in the day. "Would you mind handing me that wrench? I'm up to my elbows in gunk. This engine is a mess."

Kate squinted up at him. With the sun glinting on the red highlights in his medium brown hair, it was easy to see where he had gotten his nickname. In the artificial lights of the office, she hadn't noticed how young he looked with the front section of hair falling casually across his forehead and the back long enough to curl over the top of his collar.

His short-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned, its tails flapping in the wind, revealing, when the sides blew open, an expanse of tanned, muscular chest. His jeans rode low, seeming to be barely held up by his slim hips.

It occurred to Kate that Rusty was a very attractive man, and he was probably used to being surrounded by beautiful women. Perhaps if he was to have something other than work to capture his interest, he might be tempted to stick around longer. Mentally, she ran through a list of her single female friends. At twenty-nine, he was several years younger than most of them. But there were two or three who just might make his stay in Lake Jackson more exciting. It was a project she could work on in her spare time.

She picked up the wrench and handed it up to him. "How bad is it?" she asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. "How bad is what?"

"The helicopter. It didn't get much air time after we bought the new one. Doug was planning to hire another pilot, but when things got tight, he couldn't find enough work to keep himself busy, much less the second helicopter."

"Hopefully we can change that," Rusty replied as he loosened a fitting and pulled a piece of black tubing out of the engine.

"Does that mean you haven't had a change of heart or a return to your senses overnight?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't reflect how anxious she was to hear his answer.

He backed down the rungs until he was standing on the concrete helipad in front of her. Bright mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes and reflected a distorted image of
her own face back at her.

"Does that mean my references were okay?" he countered, the tilt of his lips revealing that he hadn't doubted for a moment that they were.

"Your references were fine. In fact, they raved about you so much I was beginning to wonder if they were all relatives."

Her comment brought a quick chuckle. "God forbid!" he exclaimed. "Relatives are something I avoid like the plague. I have three older sisters who are all married and have eight children between them. You can't imagine what a madhouse it is at my grandmother's every holiday. It's enough to make a confirmed bachelor out of any guy."

Drawing in a deep, bracing breath of salt-scented air that was blowing inland from the Gulf, she admitted, "The job's yours if you want it. But last night I had an attack of conscience because I didn't tell you everything."

A dark eyebrow arched quizzically over the wire rim of his sunglasses, and he cocked his head to one side expectantly, encouraging her to continue.

"To be perfectly honest with you, I'm not sure how long I can keep this business going. Because of the circumstances, I need someone who will be more like a partner than merely an employee . . . someone who will be able to take over and keep the business running when I'm recovering . . . someone who will take a special interest in C-Breeze."

She paused, wishing she had a more promising prospectus. "This won't be
an eight to five job. People probably think C-Breeze died with Doug, and they've found other companies to handle their transports. We're going to have to show them we're as active and dependable as before. And we're going to have to take any call that comes in, which means there'll be days when the helo's wheels will barely touch down from dawn to dusk. But there'll be other days when we'll be sitting by the phone playing cards for hours."

Her tone was rueful but matter-of-fact. "I suppose what I really need is a pilot, a salesman and a mechanic all rolled into one person because I can't afford three salaries. I really wish I could offer you more money or a better idea of what our chances of success are. You might be just wasting your time by working here because we don't have enough money in the bank to keep us open for more than a month or two unless the jobs start rolling in." The wind lifted her hair and swirled it around her face. Kate pushed it back so she could complete her confession with a sincerely stated, "As much as I'd appreciate your help, I would understand if you didn't think C-Breeze is worth your time and energy."

For several long, anxious seconds, he didn't speak. Kate wished she could reach up and yank off his sunglasses so she could read his expression and end the suspense. When the corners of his mouth finally tilted upward, she realized she had been holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

Lifting his grimy arms as if he were a surgeon leaving the scrub room before an operation, he displayed proof of at least one of the skills she required. "I've tinkered with a few engines in my day, and I'm a darn good pilot, if I do say so myself. And like I said before, following up on my contacts shouldn't be any problem at all."

His grin, as warm as the Gulf Coast breeze, added emphasis to his words. "I'll admit this is more than I was expecting when I applied for the job, but I've never shied away from hard work, and I love a challenge."

She had no doubt that he could handle the day-to-day details or even that he would be able to round up new business. The man would charm prospective customers into giving C-Breeze their business. "You won't be able to say I didn't warn you."

"And you won't be surprised when I pack up and move on," he reminded her gently. "But I won't leave until your baby is born, C-Breeze is going strong, and I've found a good pilot to replace me."

"Just good?" she asked, her relief making her almost giddy. "You mean you could be replaced by a good pilot?"

She could feel the warmth of his gaze even through his tinted lenses. "There are just so many great pilots around," he teased. "And I happen to be one of them. What are the odds that I'll be able to find another one in this part of the world?"

"You pilots are all alike—all ego and nerves of steel."

"Yes, but that's what makes us irresistible."

She didn't have to see the twinkle in his eye to know it was there. "We'll see how irresistible you are. I have a friend who is about your age. She's intelligent and pretty."

Rusty gingerly took off his glasses, being careful to touch as little of the frame as possible with his greasy fingers as he observed her with a perceptive, amused glint. "And I'll bet she's a terrific cook, too."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, she is. How did you know?"

He chuckled. "Aren't they all?"

"They who?"

"Never mind," he said. "Of course, I'll meet your friend. But I want you to know that it won't work."

"What won't work?"

"She may be gorgeous and brilliant and even cook like Betty Crocker, but there isn't a woman alive who'll be able to clip my wings until I'm ready . . . which may be never. I'm one of those men who has absolutely no nesting instinct."

That he had so clearly read her thoughts flustered her. "I'm not asking you to marry her," she sputtered. "All I had in mind was lunch at my house this weekend. I was just trying to make you feel comfortable in a strange town, but, if you're going to be Mr. Free Spirit..."

"Whoa, I'm sorry if I jumped to the wrong conclusion." It was clear he wasn't convinced that her intentions were entirely innocent, but he accepted the possibility that he had misinterpreted the invitation. "It was just that for a moment there, you had the same gleam in your eyes that my mother gets every time the family is together and she realizes I'm still not married. It's lonely not to know but one other person in a new place . . . actually that would be two people counting you and Harry. Yes. I'd love to meet your friend. I haven't had much time to check out the nightlife here in Lake Jackson."

Kate allowed herself to be mollified by his apology, all the while hoping he wouldn't guess how close he had been to the truth. But operating on the theory that men seldom know exactly what they want and knowing how attractive her friend Susan was, Kate decided to make the introductions and then let nature take its course. Rusty might be surprised. And Kate might have a permanent employee. In fact, if things worked out, she might even be willing to make him officially a partner.

But then she was getting ahead of herself since she really had no proof other than his past job referrals that Rusty wasn't all talk and no action. It was just that she was so anxious for this association to work out. It would be one less thing to worry about . . .

Rusty left to go into town and get the part he needed to fix the helicopter, and Kate returned to the task of giving the office a thorough cleaning. The small building consisted of one main room with a large closet across one end and a rest room, complete with a shower, across the other end.

The office area was crowded with mismatched furniture that had been collected one piece at a time and placed with more thought for convenience than aesthetics. Two desks, one for the secretary and one for Doug, sat side by side in the middle of the room. A vinyl-covered couch was against the wall next to the bathroom, and the other walls were cluttered with file cabinets, boxes of outdated records, piles of magazines and several extra chairs.

Kate stood, her hands on her hips, and surveyed the mess. She couldn't imagine why Doug had let the office fall into such disarray. It certainly hadn't looked like this when she worked here. It was no wonder he had insisted she not drop by for a visit. He had probably been ashamed of how disorganized it was.

She had already spent time trying to straighten out the files. But the information in the boxes probably needed to be re-filed. Possibly, in the process, she would even stumble across some of the more current receipts that she hadn't found because they might have been accidentally put in the wrong place. As soon as Rusty returned, she would get him to load the boxes into her car so she could take them home and go through them at night. It would be something to do to fill the long, lonely hours between dinner and bedtime . . . the hours when she most missed Doug. Even on the evenings when he had been away on business trips, she had at least known where he was and that he would be coming home as soon as he could.

Kate turned away, focusing her attention on the desks. The phones and the radio had been so deadly silent that there was no reason to even consider hiring a secretary right away. Not that they could afford one. But until the baby decided to arrive, Kate would be able to handle both the secretarial job and the manager's position, especially since she had a radio base unit in the office and at home so she could monitor calls at both places. However, it was logical that she keep both desks, optimistically assuming C-Breeze would be able to afford a secretary sometime soon. With an oversize garbage bag next to her, Kate sat down at first one desk, then the other, and went through them from top to bottom. She was dusting the now empty filing trays when Rusty walked into the office.