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“Clear sailing until the ambient air warms too much to make it easy to keep our altitude,” he said.
She nodded, amazed he could switch off the charm and move to dedicated racer in a heartbeat. She was still reeling from their discussion.
And wondering what it would be like to be a close, very personal, friend of Rafael’s.
Rafael switched to the last fuel canister later. He was not getting as much lift as earlier when the air temperature had been cooler. Time to begin looking for a place to stop and exchange these tanks for fresh ones. It was early afternoon. He’d already covered more distance than every day of the festival combined. The wind was steady and probably moving them more than twenty miles an hour. He estimated they’d covered more than a hundred miles.
The mountainous terrain below didn’t offer many wide meadows where there would be room to set down and let the envelope deflate without becoming tangled with trees or ground growth.
The chase crew would have replacement tanks and plenty of food, as well as the tents and bedrolls he hoped they would not have to use. If he didn’t have to rough it, he’d choose not to. On the other hand, dossing down on a sleeping bag beneath the stars was something he’d done more than once. Once they refueled they’d be off again. Long jumps were also an endurance event. He’d go for a few more miles before setting down for the night.
Amalia had not said a word for a while. She had gradually relaxed enough to doze for a few minutes but she hadn’t offered to help in any way. So much for a truce. If Vicente thought that would slow him down, the man had rocks in his head.
“We’ll be setting down soon,” Rafael said to Julio when he’d reached the chase team on the radio. He scanned the terrain for a suitable place. “Where are you?”
“You are a bit behind us and farther north. Maria has you in our sights comparing it with the topographical map. Do you see any place to set down? How far ahead of Vicente are you?”
Rafael noticed Amalia was awake now and watching him.
“His balloon set down about twenty minutes ago. I’m riding at half tank on the last one right now and would prefer to come down soon. But all I see is tree-covered hills.”
“Wait, Maria says there’s a new reservoir north of your position. Any chance you could get near that? There should be plenty of cleared space. Just don’t land in the water.”
With that Amalia rose and clutched the side of the basket, looking around. “We aren’t going to land in water, are we?”
“Can’t swim?” he asked.
“Of course I can swim, but I’m not dressed for it. What if the balloon comes down on top of us and drowns us?” she asked anxiously.
“Relax, we’re not landing in water. Often reservoirs have a lot of cleared land surrounding them, to allow for water fluctuation.” He spoke back into the radio, “I see a clearing, and a road leading to it. We’re lined up for it, I’ll try for that.”
The balloon began descending.
“We’re heading in that direction,” Manuel said.
She looked around. “Where’s the other balloon?”
“They put down already.”
“Why would they do that?”
“If he found a meadow Stefano wanted to take advantage of, he’d land. He needs fuel. So do we. Once we switch out the tanks, we’ll be good to go again.”
“Why didn’t we put down when he did?”
She’d wanted time to talk to Stefano, get him to agree to let someone else take her place. Maybe she could switch with Maria and be part of the ground crew.
He smiled at her tone. “Don’t you like to win?” he asked.
“Not if we’re risking our lives!” she snapped.
“We’re not. Relax. I promise to get you home all in one piece,” he said. He saw the reservoir. He wished he had some better way to gauge the wind rather than flying in it to see where he ended up. Experience told him if they continued at the current rate, they should reach ground about the time they reached the cleared area surrounding the water.
“When we get on the ground, one of us has to keep the envelope inflated enough to keep it from tangling with the trees. The other has to jump out with a rope and secure the basket to the ground. Which task do you want?” he asked.
“Neither,” she said, glancing around as if looking for a third alternative.
“I need your help in this, Amalia,” he said. “This is no time to argue. We’ll be on the ground, so your phobia about height shouldn’t get in the way.”
She glanced up at the balloon overhead. “I can’t keep it properly inflated. I’ll try to tie the rope.”
“Don’t try, do.”
She glared at him. “Just tell me how I’m supposed to do that and I’ll do my best. I am not here to sabotage your blasted race. Though if something happened, I’d sure get home sooner.”
“Don’t even think it.”
She looked away. Her anger seemed to drive away her fear.
He gave her directions, keeping an eye on the rapidly approaching clearing. It was going to be a bit more tricky than he liked—especially with a novice on board. But unexpected challenges were what made the race interesting.
In less than ten minutes he set the basket down right at the edge of the clearing at least a dozen feet or more from the water’s edge. As soon as it hit the ground he yelled at Amalia to jump off and grab one of the tethering ropes. She used the step in the side to scramble over the edge and he heard her land, then jump to her feet and pull on the rope.
“There’s nothing here to tie it to. If you lift off, I’m letting go,” she called.
He could just see her over the edge of the basket. It skidded along the ground for a few feet. He glanced at the balloon. He wanted to keep it as inflated as possible for quick rising once the tanks were switched, but not so much it pulled against the basket while they were on the ground. He didn’t want to skid across the ground, but couldn’t let the envelope collapse all the way, or they’d take valuable minutes reinflating it.
“Wait, there’s a stump sticking up. It’s a big one, maybe too big for the rope to go around.” Her voice faded as she disappeared from view. He looked over the edge. She was winding the rope tightly around a stump. If she didn’t secure it just right, it could slip off. Frustrated, Rafael wanted to jump off and do it himself, but it would be a stupid move to leave the balloon unmanned.
When she finished, she looked up and smiled. Standing, she did a little dance.
“I’m on the ground again!” she shouted, turning in a big circle, her arms outstretched.
“Take this rope and secure a second anchor,” he called, tying another to the frame and tossing it to her.
She found another stump and quickly tied that rope then sat on the stump and looked up at the balloon, then around the clearing. The basket was anchored; now it was up to the chase crew to find them.
Rafael tried the radio again, but being lower than the surrounding hills, the signal wasn’t reaching the rest of the team.
There was nothing to do but wait.
“How long do you need to keep the balloon inflated?” she called.
“Until the crew can switch out the empty tanks with full ones, or we run out of propane. If that happens, I’ll need your help to keep the balloon away from the water and the trees.”
“How long before they get here?”
“Whenever they get here.”
Amalia went to the water’s edge and gazed across the expanse. It was a large reservoir with wide cleared areas surrounding it. Obviously trees had been cut—stumps were scattered as far as she could see.
Amalia took a deep breath. She relished being back on the ground. Somehow she’d have to convince Stefano to renegotiate the bet. She did not want to go up again. Though all things considered, it hadn’t been as bad as her imagination. No one had fallen out. The basket hadn’t given way. And she had been held closely for a brief moment by one of Barcelona’s most exciting bachelors. Not that she had bragging rights. But for those few moments she’d felt totally safe.
She refused to think about the moments he’d held her hand and tried to charm her into joining forces with him. Best left in the past. It wouldn’t be repeated.
Sighing softly for what could never be, she looked around, spotting a road winding down through the trees. When the chase crew arrived it would be from that direction.
She walked back to the basket.
“Now I’d like some thing to drink, please,” she said.
Rafael tossed a soda to her. “Something to eat, too?” he asked.
“In a little while. I’m hoping this will settle the butterflies in my stomach.”
“You did fine, Amalia. No need to be afraid,” he said gently, leaning against the side of the basket, taking a long drink from the can he held.
“Phobias aren’t something that go away on your say-so,” she said. She drank from the cold can, then looked around.
“No, I guess not.” He was silent for a moment then turned toward her. “So why the Children’s Home, to make the check out to?”
“You’ll really do that?” she asked.
“I said so, didn’t I?” There was a hint of steel in his tone.
She flashed back to the meeting in her boss’s office. Rafael had become angry with the slightest hint from Stefano that he wasn’t honorable. Obviously that meant a lot to him, which struck her as odd, given the ruthless nature of every successful businessman. Was Rafael a bit different? Unlikely.
Amalia had never had such a generous gesture made for her. “My parents were both orphans. My mother actually lived in the Home for a few months when she was about eleven. It was a favored charity for them. Made in their name should bring hope to other children that when they grow up they’ll be happy, too.”
“And were your parents happy?” he asked.
“Yes. We did things together as a family. It wasn’t perfect. My mother had a real temper and she would let it fly rather than bottle things up inside. But ten minutes later the storm was over and they were hugging and kissing.” She smiled a bit at the memories. “I want a relationship like that if I ever get married,” she said, looking at the water, remembering the sudden storm that had swamped the boat they’d been on, ending their happy family life forever.
She shivered.
“I shall be happy to make the donation in their name,” Rafael said, watching her.
The minutes dragged by. By feeding the hot air into the balloon periodically, enough to keep it from fully deflating and drifting to the ground, Rafael watched the gas gauge. It was getting lower each time he fired the burners. If the propane gas ran out, the balloon would gradually sink to the ground. If that happened before the rest of the team arrived, he’d just have to hope he and Amalia could control the deflating envelope enough to keep it from catching in the trees.
Amalia drank her soda and ate one of the sandwiches Maria had prepared.
“How far to the nearest town?” she asked, looking around.
“I saw one toward the east before we came down. I don’t know, maybe ten miles.”
Ten miles. Was there any traffic where she could hitch a ride? Now she wished she’d spent some of her time up in the air studying the layout on the ground.
Just as she heard the burners fire up again, she heard the honking horn and turned to see the chase team racing down the narrow road, horn blaring.
“They’re here!” Amalia said, jumping up from the stump she’d been sitting on for most of the afternoon. “We’re rescued!”
Rafael laughed. “We didn’t need rescue. We’ll refuel and lift off again. This time you won’t be so afraid. You know how it all works.”
By the time the balloon lifted again, Amalia hoped she would discover a way to be far gone.
But she didn’t. Working in perfect synchronization, the team swapped full propane tanks for the empties, keeping the envelope almost full. In less than thirty minutes one of the chase team called to Rafael that he saw the other balloon.
“Oops, time to go,” Rafael said. “Come on, Amalia.”
She wanted to argue, but the camaraderie of the ground crew and the pride she felt that she’d actually survived the morning mellowed her thinking. If all these people thought the event worth taking part in, maybe she needed to give it one more chance. And, truly, if she didn’t look down, she had grown used to the gentle movement of the gondola and almost gotten used to the sudden noise when the burners were engaged.
She had not gotten used to Rafael, however. Still, she could do this, what choice did she have?
She looked up and saw the other hot air balloon almost overhead.
“They’ll get ahead of us,” she said as she grabbed the jacket she’d discarded and hurried to the gondola. By the time they rose enough to catch the current, Vicente’s balloon would have a slight lead.
Rafael turned his head to smile at her. “We’ll catch them if they get ahead. Fire up the fans,” he called as he opened the burners and the roaring filled their ears. In only seconds the balloon began to rise rapidly.
Amalia watched, her attention torn between their own efforts and the balloon sailing silently overhead.
“They’re getting ahead,” she said. If her boss outdistanced Rafael the first day, would that settle the race? Glancing at the charged energy Rafael showed, she doubted it. He’d fight to the last second to gain even an inch of distance.
“You come and take the controls,” Rafael said. “I need to consult the weather maps of the area. Keep the burners going until the temperature gets near the limit.”
Amalia stepped closer to the center. She grabbed the lever and pulled down, feeling almost like a pro. They were gaining altitude rapidly now. Soon they were level with Stefano’s balloon, though some distance behind.
Rafael glanced up from the charts and maps he was perusing and looked around. He jotted a note on the margin of the paper.
The trees had dropped away, the surrounding hills were left behind. The burners roared and Amalia laughed in sheer delight. She’d done it! She wasn’t about to go near the edge of the basket, but she’d lifted the balloon from the ground. Looking at the other balloon, she saw they were rapidly passing it in elevation. Would a different air current sweep them past?
She glanced at Rafael and found him grinning at her. “Told you it would get better,” he said.
The euphoria she experienced allowed her to incline her head regally and agree. “So you did. How long do we have to keep the burners on?”
“You judge. Keep an eye on the gauge.”
Amalia watched, and when it got close to the high temperature, she closed the controls. The silence echoed in her ears, ringing from the sound of the burners.
She kept her hand on the lever for balance and looked triumphantly at Rafael.
“We’re higher than Stefano’s balloon.”
“Well done. Come here and I’ll show you the route I think the currents will take us.”
She hesitated a moment, glancing straight out over the side of the basket. But they were so high, she could see little. Her heart lurched and she quickly sat down beside Rafael. He held out the edge of the paper and she drew it closer. Leaning near, Rafael pointed out the topography and explained how air currents rose and fell, some on different currents, some impacted by the terrain and the heat of the day. His shoulder brushed hers and Amalia caught her breath, forcing herself to concentrate on his words and following where his finger pointed.
Turning her head slightly, she saw the faint lines radiating from the outer edges of his eyes, as if he squinted in the sunlight a lot. His skin was tanned and taut, covering high cheekbones. His dark eyes sparkled with the excitement of planning where he’d try to take their balloon.
