Free Texas Wildcat by Lindsay McKenna

whistling sound of the four mighty prop jet engines.
    Kelly swallowed and found her throat was dry. Her eyes were wide, betraying her inner fears. What was she getting herself into? Sam’s hand slid over hers, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. His hand was warm. Hers was ice cold. She met his gaze. This time there was no anger in his face. This time there was only concern and tenderness in those wonderful azure eyes.
    “Th-thanks,” she whispered, meaning it.
    Sam gave her a crooked smile. “A little fear is good for you, Kelly,” he advised.
    The C-130 began to move and she gripped Sam’s hand tightly for a moment, adjusting to the new sensations. Boots was moving around the skids, double checking to make sure they were securely fastened to the deck. If the load shifted it could slide into the bulkhead, crushing a human being.
    Sam began to gently massage her hand. “Relax,” he coaxed. “This part is a piece of cake.”
    “Yeah?” she mouthed.
    His smile deepened. “Yeah.” He reached across with his other hand and picked up a thick strand of her hair. “Try and relax,” he murmured.
    “I’m scared to death,” she admitted. The C-130 was gathering speed and as it hit each bump and depression in the taxiway, the plane wallowed like a beached whale.
    “Like I said,” Sam murmured, “a little fear is good for you.”
    “I thought that was just your way of getting even with me for coming along.”
    Sam shook his head. “I may be upset that you’re coming, Kelly, but I wouldn’t deliberately be cruel to you. The reason I said a little fear is good is because it will keep you alert and on your toes. And where we’re going, you don’t want to take anything or anyone for granted.”
    “Wonderful.”
    Sam switched hands, placing his arm around her shoulders and continuing to hold her one hand. “You mean even a redhead has a limit on courage?” he teased.
    “You,” she said, giving him a gentle jab in the ribs, “can be replaced.”
    He laughed. It was a wonderfully free, uninhibited laugh that rolled through the bowels of the plane. Suddenly she relaxed in his embrace. “On second thought, maybe you can’t be,” she admitted.
    “Glad to hear that, honey.”
    She made a face. “You sure are confident of yourself, Tyler. Where did they dig you up?”
    “I’m confident where you’re concerned,” he told her in a disturbingly low voice which sent a shiver through her.
    The C-130’s engines were now changing pitch. The plane suddenly came to a halt and Kelly clutched at Sam’s arm.
    “It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’re at the beginning of the runway. The pilots are waiting for clearance from the tower. You’ll hear them winding up the engines even more, so relax.”
    She closed her eyes, suddenly grateful for his explanations. “I owe you one, Sam Tyler,” she told him earnestly, meeting his stare.
    “Yeah, and I intend to collect.”
    The turbo-prop engines began to scream like shrill banshees. The plane vibrated, shivering like an eagle crying to be released from its earthly imprisonment. Sam’s arms tightened around her, holding her close as the plane began its forward momentum. Lights dimmed and blinked, leaving them all in the shadows. They were surrounded by the shrill noise, the rattling and clanking of pipe vibrating on the skids. It seemed like forever before the plane broke contact with the runway and fought its way skyward to the gathering dusk. Shakily, Kelly released a long-held breath.
    “I’m so glad you’re here,” she confided to Sam.
    He gave her one of his boyish grins. “Me too. Say, you know this could become a pleasant habit. You’re kind of nice to hold, my redhaired witch.”
    He released her hand and disengaged his arm from around her shoulders. He unstrapped himself from the seat and got up. “Stay here. I’m going to steal a thermos of coffee and some food from Boots.”
    She was more than happy to remain in one place. Apparently the lights in