Match Made In Paradise by Barbara Dunlop (black female authors TXT) 📕

“Go for it.”

“Was he happy with that?”

“I think he was.” There were times Mia thought he preferred their platonic friendship, times when she thought that was what he’d wanted all along.

She slowed the vehicle to a stop.

“How’d that feel?” Kenneth asked, coming up on the driver’s side.

“She’s a natural,” Breena said with a bright grin.

“Great,” Kenneth said. “ATV next, then we try the mini loader.”

It took Mia a while to catch on to the ATV. It was clunky and bouncy with its big tires, and the handlebars were awkwardly far apart for her. But at least it was shorter than the utility vehicle, and that made it easier to maneuver around corners.

The mini loader was an entirely different story. Although she spent most of the morning trying, she just couldn’t catch on. It was run by two joysticks instead of a steering wheel, and she kept mixing them up. The engine speed was variable, plus there was boom up, bucket down, scoop, dump, and curl.

She kept turning left when she meant to raise the boom or raise the boom when she meant to curl the bucket. Or curl the bucket when she meant to back up.

Kenneth jumped out of the way as she showered them both with sand . . . again.

Mia waved her hand in front of her face to dissipate the dust. She coughed, and squeezed her eyes shut as they watered.

“What are you doing?” Raven asked, appearing beside them, surprise in her tone.

Mia blinked her cousin into focus.

“The loader’s not going so well,” Kenneth admitted.

“Why is Mia running the loader?”

Kenneth paused for a second. “You asked me to give her the vehicle orientation.” He paused. “Right?”

“To the ATV and the utility,” Raven said. She gestured to the Mia and the mini loader. “Not this.”

“Oh,” Kenneth said with obvious regret.

Mia let go of the joysticks and shut the machine off. She at least knew how to do that much.

Raven took in her appearance and clearly stifled a grin.

Mia touched her cheek and felt a layer of grime. She might have been struggling, but she would have kept trying. She wouldn’t even mind taking another run at it someday.

For now, she unbuckled her seatbelt to clamber out of the loader. She dusted her clothes and pulled off the hard hat to shake her hair, refusing to be deterred. “All right. What’s next?”

*   *   *

Silas was driving, Brodie in the passenger seat, his window unrolled, elbow hooked out into the muggy air.

“What is that?” Silas asked, looking out his side window and doing a double-take at the Galina parking lot.

“We’re going to lose the weather,” Brodie answered, looking skyward.

“Not the sky,” Silas said, slowing and pointing to where a dusty-looking Mia stood with a hard hat in her hand. “Is that Mia?”

Brodie looked over. “I’d say yes.”

“They had her in the loader?” Silas could barely believe it.

“Raven looks frustrated,” Brodie observed.

“Have they lost their minds?” Silas didn’t expect an answer, but he couldn’t hold back his astonishment either.

“Did you check the four o’clock forecast?” Brodie asked, moving his attention east and frowning.

“Should we stop?” Silas asked.

“Stop for what?”

“To find out what’s going on there.” Silas could see the danger of the situation, even if Raven couldn’t.

“I’m a lot more interested in the storm that’s rolling in,” Brodie said.

Silas didn’t like it, but he understood Brodie’s standpoint. Galina was Raven’s domain, and Mia was her cousin. And he had checked the latest forecast. “The sixteen-hundred update showed high and broken clouds through twenty-one-hundred.”

“That’s not going to hold.”

Eying the clouds towering over the peaks, Silas agreed. The approaching storm had obviously picked up speed.

“Who’s still out flying?” Silas asked.

“Xavier and Dean are bringing Delta-Romeo in after the Misty Mountain crew change. They’re coming in from the north, so they’ll have no trouble. Tristen and Tobias took that big load of lumber in Niner-Quebec to Wildfire Lake. They can stay put. Hailey will have to follow the river to stay below the ceiling.” Brodie pressed a button on his phone, and Silas knew he was contacting the WSA radio operator. “I’ll make sure Shannon’s had an update on everyone’s position.”

The erratic weather wouldn’t leave them alone.

“She’s not answering,” Brodie said. He dialed again and waited while it rang. Then he shook his head.

“Want to try Cobra in the hangar?” Silas asked.

“He’s in town at Caldwell’s.”

“Should we head out there to check?”

Brodie tried one more time, his frown telling Silas there was no answer.

“We’d better go,” Silas said, taking a sharp right to head for the airstrip.

Brodie redialed, knowing they’d lose service in just a few minutes.

“Still nothing?” Silas asked as Brodie let his hand drop to his lap.

“She might be on the radio,” Silas said. It was a distinct possibility that Shannon was on a call with one of the planes.

“Maybe,” Brodie said. The timbre of his tone told Silas he was worried.

Silas understood why. Even if Shannon was on the radio with a plane, she’d take Brodie’s call, especially if he tried multiple times.

When Shannon missed the fifth time, Silas sped up, worried she might have had a medical issue.

Shannon was in her late fifties, and she wasn’t the fittest person in the world. He knew she had diabetes, and she was open about struggling with her blood pressure.

“Can you go faster?” Brodie asked.

Silas upped the speed as much as he dared. He and Brodie both had first-aid training. All the WSA pilots did.

It seemed like forever, but it was only a few more minutes until they zoomed into the parking lot. Silas skidded to a halt in front of the WSA office and Brodie jumped out, leaving the door wide open.

Silas followed, rushing inside, immensely relieved to hear Shannon’s voice coming from the back room. But as he walked forward, her words came clear.

“I’ve got you on tracking,” she was saying. “We’re going to know exactly where you go down.”

“Brodie here.” Brodie had obviously taken the microphone. “Hailey, can you estimate your airspeed?”

Silas breath caught in his throat as he squeezed into