Out on a Limb. Rachelle McCalla

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      “If Uncle Leroy sees me with you—”

      Cutch blew out an exasperated breath. He knew the McAlisters didn’t like his family, but he couldn’t imagine Elise’s father’s brother getting into that big of a fit. Still, if she was concerned… “I’ll hide,” he offered.

      The little hint of a smile that peeked out at him warmed his heart, though a second later she replaced it with a scowl. “I don’t want to keep you from your busy schedule.”

      Thinking of his father’s exam that he’d already missed, he shrugged. “If I say I have time to drop you off, I have time.”

      Elise took a tentative step toward the passenger side of the truck, then looked back at him. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

      For a moment the humid air stilled between them, and that simple courtesy seemed to shout so much more. Could thank you mean I still love you? Or I’m sorry for the past eight years? Or even I wish none of our family’s feud had ever come between us? He thought he heard those words hidden between her simple thanks, but then he’d always been a dreamer. Time to pull his head out of the clouds.

      “No problem.” Cutch nodded and hopped in the driver’s side, relieved when Elise climbed in, too. “So, to the airport,” he announced, turning the key. “What are you planning to do when you get there?”

      “I’m going to take my Cessna up and fly over your property. I’ve got a portable GPS unit that I can use to get the exact coordinates of my glider’s location. Then I can take the GPS with me to find the spot when I go on foot to retrieve it.”

      Cutch turned the truck around and headed back out onto the gravel road. “You’re planning to retrieve your glider, hmm? Do you have permission from the property owner to be on the land?” The words were meant to be a gentle tease. He hoped they’d elicit a smile.

      But instead her pretty face frowned. “You said it was your land.”

      “That’s right. So are you going to ask for my permission, or are you planning to trespass illegally?”

      “Cutch,” she protested. “I can’t believe you’re making an issue of this—especially after what I’ve been through today.”

      Hurt that she’d taken his words the wrong way, he defended himself, still maintaining the lighthearted undertone he’d begun with, though she obviously hadn’t picked up on it. “Yeah, well, I’ve recently become aware of issues with trespassers on my land. Apparently some of them shot down a hang glider earlier, so I feel like I need to crack down.” He glanced over to gauge her reaction.

      “You’re a couple hours too late to do my glider any good.”

      Something in the back of his brain screamed mayday! He couldn’t let her be mad at him—couldn’t let her walk out of his life again, not with her angry like this. “Then let me make it up to you. Take me up in your plane, and I’ll help you find the spot it went down.”

      “I don’t think so!” she snapped.

      “Why not? I know the land better than anyone. I can help you locate your glider more quickly, and I may be able to spot signs of where your gunmen may have been when they shot at you. If we could find an empty casing or footprint, then the sheriff would have something to come out and take a look at.”

      Elise shook her head forcefully. “I can find my glider myself. Once I get a GPS lock on the location, I can find it from the ground. I don’t need your help.”

      “But you need my permission to be on my land.”

      “Did the gunmen have your permission?”

      They were nearly to the airport by this time, and Cutch felt his hackles rising. What had started out as a hint of teasing had blown way out of proportion, but why was he surprised? Elise still knew how to push his buttons. It was a good reminder of why things hadn’t worked out between them eight years ago—why they would never work out. But he still wasn’t about to let her fly into danger alone. He’d never forgive himself if she was shot down a second time.

      “The gunmen were trespassing—” he let his tone drop to a low, even rate, let the warning carry through in his words “—and if I ever find out who it was, you can believe I’ll press charges. Nobody hurts you and gets away with it.”

      Elise felt a shiver run down her spine at the chilly threat behind Cutch’s words. But what made her nearly gasp was the zealous protection implied in his final statement. Didn’t he realize how much he had hurt her? Just the memory of the way he’d set her up for humiliation eight years before made her heart squeeze and the old wounds cry out in pain. Their first and only kiss, the moment she’d dreamed about since she’d first fallen in love with him, had turned out to be a trick, a stunt he’d pulled to embarrass her in front of half of Holyoake. In fact, their entire relationship had been a farce, another way for a McCutcheon to humiliate a McAlister.

      Still, she figured she was mature enough to work with him without letting on to the distress he caused her heart. She’d just have to keep him at arm’s length and stomp down any tender feelings, such as those that had flooded her when he’d put his arm around her on the viewing tower. Surely she could handle that…

      “I’d like to come with you. I’m sure I can help.” Cutch announced matter-of-factly as he parked the truck behind the hangar and killed the engine.

      What could she say? He seemed intent on going up with her, and honestly, after the terror she’d felt that morning, it would be an enormous comfort to have along a strong man she could trust. She just wasn’t convinced Cutch was that man. But she was in a hurry to find her glider, and he was probably correct about being able to help her quickly locate it in the thick trees. She’d scrambled through the woods in such a blur that little clear memory remained to guide her.

      “If I’m not imposing on your time—”

      “You’re not.”

      “Then let’s hurry. I still don’t want Uncle Leroy to see you.”

      They ducked out of the truck and went around the hangar to the door facing the airfield. “Leroy’s probably in the office. He and Rodney are usually the only ones around on Saturdays,” Elise explained, opening the wide hangar door. “They shouldn’t see us if we use this door.”

      She hurried over to her Cessna 172 Skyhawk and patted the white-with-red-stripes plane affectionately on one wing. “This is my baby,” she informed Cutch.

      “Looks like your baby is older than you are.”

      “She is,” Elise admitted, circling the plane as she initiated her preflight check. “But I’m saving my pennies to buy her a little sister. Aren’t I, darling?” She gave the rudder a gentle tug. “Anyway, she’s a good little bird and keeps me in the sky, which is more than I can say for my powered hang glider.”

      “You don’t think there’s a chance somebody will try to shoot this girl down, do you?” Cutch looked concerned.

      Elise faced him under the wing. “We should be out of the range of a shotgun. I fly my glider at a lot lower elevation than I fly my plane.”

      “But when you’re dusting crops—”

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