Page 12 of Unwilling Bride
All of a sudden, my nerves are completely gone. Just sitting here bantering with him…it’s so comfortable. There’s something about Clayton that puts me at ease. I like it.
We head outside of Napa. Dawn is just beginning to color the horizon, but the light is so faint that I can’t make out any details. Soon, he turns onto an unmarked dirt road that leads up into the hills. There are a few cars parked in a small gravel lot, but there aren’t any signs, and I still can’t determine exactly where we are.
After we park, Clayton gathers his things from the back seat. Over his shoulder in the distance, I see something brightly colored on the ground that catches my eye. It gets bigger and rounder, rising from the grass, and that’s when I realize—holycrap.
“It’s a hot-air balloon!” I gasp.
Clayton nods. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
I’m speechless for a moment. “Um, don’t you think that would’ve been good to know before you planned this?”
He laughs gently. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I can cancel—”
“No! I can be brave,” I insist. “At least, I think I can.”
“I know you can, lass,” Clayton says.
Something about the way he says it sends a little shiver through me.
He motions for me to follow him toward the balloon. “To be fair, this was a shot in the dark. I’ve not had much time to get to know you. Though I plan to give it a lash today.”
“You think so?” I tease. “What makes you think I’m going to be a big talker?”
He shrugs and tosses me a teasing look. “Once you’re inside that basket, you can’t really run away from my questions, now can you?”
He’s got a point. I’m going to be trapped in a wicker basket attached to a balloon with this man. Just like that, my nerves are back, but I can’t suss out if he’s causing them or if my sudden trepidation of heights is. We pause to watch the balloon expand in shades of yellow and black and blue and red. It’s beautiful, and I say so.
When we get to the balloon, we see a man inside the basket wearing a headlamp. He waves.
“I’m Chip. Come aboard. We’re almost ready to go.”
I go in first. I’ve never done this before, and it’s so much different than what I’ve seen on TV. The basket is pretty big, considering. There are three stools. One for the pilot, I assume, and two on the opposite side for me and Clayton. After Chip makes a few adjustments and gives us a quick spiel on basic balloon safety, he closes the door and then we lift off the ground with a small lurch. I yelp. Clayton wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer.
“Steady,” he says, in the same kind of soothing voice that my youngest sister uses on skittish horses. “You never did answer me about being afraid of heights or not.”
My arm goes instinctively around his waist. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
I don’t think twice about clinging to him as the balloon gains altitude. My breath catches as we rise above the hills and trees, higher and higher, and as the sky lightens, the colors of dawn welcome us with open arms.
Streaks of deep purple, flaming orange, bright pink, and gold stretch all around, rising with us, getting brighter as we ascend. The whole of it is overwhelming, but also a little scary. Covering my eyes, I inhale through my nose and will myself to relax. Clayton’s arm slips off my shoulders and he starts making gentle circles on my back with his palm.
“Come on, now, you don’t want to miss the view,” he coaxes. “Look at the mountains.”
The soft lilt of his accent does things to me, and I can’t help but obey.
He’s right. The view is unmatched.
We’re high above ground and the green hills of Napa, laced with grapevines, roll gently beneath us as sunlight blankets the sleeping land. Birds scatter from treetops, and cars look small as they crisscross below. A field of horses catches my attention as they gallop.
“This is incredible,” I murmur.
Clayton just smiles in response.
He moves away, but I’m too enthralled with the view to look at what he’s doing. There’s a rustling sound behind me as I watch the horses run, then a popping sound followed by a fizz. Before I can turn, the basket suddenly sways a bit as the balloon wafts to the side.
“Gah!” I yelp, grabbing onto the side of the basket.
Meanwhile, Clayton is back on his stool with two crystal flutes of some orange drink.
