Read Born to Be Wild Online

Authors: Donna Kauffman

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary Romance, #Contemporary Women

Born to Be Wild (5 page)

Funny, she’d never been susceptible before.

Adopting what she considered a healthy amount of wariness, she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in order to see what he’d written. “Nice parachutes,” she said, motioning to the numerous doodles on the page. “But I doubt the children’s parents would be receptive to you dropping them from planes onto the mountaintop.”

His laughter was rich, warm, and entirely too appealing.
“And here I thought I’d come up with such a brilliant plan. I guess you win.” He affected a wounded sigh. “And I was so hoping you’d love the idea.”

Dara laughed despite her best attempt not to.

“Actually,” he continued, “since three of the four kids are in wheelchairs, and the other one has leg braces and uses crutches, I figured I’d better find alternative transportation or backpack the kids up with the rest of the supplies.”

“So what did you have in mind?”

“A buddy of mine is going to reconfigure a few buggies, sort of like All-Terrain Vehicles. Make them hand operable.”

“You plan to put them in ATV’s? Zach, those things are unstable at best, and very dangerous at worst!”

This was exactly the sort of irresponsible thinking she’d expected from him. Exactly the sort of proof she needed to get him off the assignment before actually having to go up the mountain with him.

Which didn’t come close to explaining why her moment of triumph felt a whole lot more like disappointment.

“I said Frank was modifying them. Bigger, softer tires, slower speed and completely hand-controlled.” He leaned back in the chair. “Of course, if they get real good with them going uphill, I figured we could race back down.”

“Zach!”

“You’re so easy.” His smile was sexy and teasing as he stood and walked around the desk, leaning one hip on the corner. “I was kidding about the race.”

Dara lifted an eyebrow, and he laughed.

“Okay, so maybe I thought a few races—on flat ground—would be fun. Kids race in wheelchairs all the time.” He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “But I’ll let you make the call.”

“I don’t know about this, Zach.”

“So come with me to Frank’s place on Thursday and see for yourself.”

Ah, the trap had been sprung, and she hadn’t even seen it coming. With an inward sigh, she didn’t bother to contemplate arguing. If they were going up that mountain together—and that was still a big “if” in her mind—then she’d be less than responsible if she didn’t check out all aspects of his plans beforehand. Besides, if these souped-up ATV’s didn’t meet her standards, then the whole thing could be over in less than forty-eight hours. She’d already compiled a list of well-reputed family camping outfitters and could have one signed on as early as Friday.

“I’ll have to check my schedule.”

“No problem,” he replied easily. “I know you’re busy. So is Frank. I told him we’d be there about six.”

“He’s expecting me, is he? The ego has grown in proportion to the body.”

“Actually, I think the body just caught up to it over the years.” His grin was totally unrepentant. “But it was your ego I was banking on. No way would you let me go ahead with this without checking out every little detail yourself.”

“Touché,” she admitted with a reluctant smile.

He lifted a hand, and she took it without thinking as he pulled her up. Only he didn’t let go, and she found
herself a half step away from standing between his parted knees.

“Frank’s garage is in Leesburg. You want to meet me there?” His voice was soft and smooth.

“Sure.” She gently tugged her hand from his. He let his fingertips trail across her palm, the wide pads rough and warm against her skin. “I’ll, uh …” Her gaze had fallen to his hand on hers, but when she lifted it back to his eyes, the words had just died in her throat.

His eyes were so … brown. No golden flecks, no hint of any light. Just rich, dark brown. She watched with an absent sort of fascination as his pupils dilated.

“Dart?” His tone somehow imbued the silly childhood nickname with more than a little adult interest.

“Yes?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“You want directions?”

“Directions?” For some reason her brain refused to compute that response. She felt her neck and ears heat. “Ah, yes, of course,” she said, as she took a small step away from him. Carefully avoiding his face, she unzipped her Day-Timer and slipped the slender pen from its holder. “I can get to Leesburg, just give me an address.”

“Frank’s place is on Catoctin Circle, about halfway.”

She scribbled that down, suddenly wanting—needing—to be out of there, away from him. “Do you have his number? In case something comes up?”

Zach slid the pen from her fingertips and carefully tucked it back under the thin leather band. “If something comes up, call me, not Frank.” He smiled. “If I’m not here, Beaudine’ll know how to reach me.”

Dara found herself holding her breath and forced it
out slowly, then swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry throat. She quietly zipped the case shut. “Fine.”

She walked to the door, knowing she should simply keep on moving until she was in her car and driving away. But some little voice in her head had to break the silence, had to ease the tension that had again sprung up between them. A tension completely foreign to any sort she’d experienced with him as a child. For that matter, except for yesterday in her office, she’d never felt it as an adult, either. Not even with Daniel.

And it was a tension she wasn’t entirely sure she didn’t like. But she
was
sure she shouldn’t.

Which was why she turned in the doorway and said, “Getting the children up the mountain is only part of it, Brogan. You still have to plan three entire days. And ATV’s aren’t the solution to everything.”

“Don’t worry, Dara.” His grin made a shambles of her attempt to keep it all business between them. “I know this is only the beginning.”

Dara pulled into Frank’s parking lot two days later, noticing right off the unusually neat and orderly appearance of the garage. There were several other cars parked along the edge of the lot next to the larger of the two buildings. And a black pickup she recognized from her trip to Zach’s house. The cherry-red slogan on the side removed any doubt as to its owner.

Born To Be Wild. She shook her head in disgust even as she smiled. That said it in a nutshell.

Next to the garage was a small white building that
appeared to be the office. She parked next to Zach’s truck and headed in that direction.

Zach startled her when he stepped from the shadows of the open bay door. He motioned her inside. “This way.”

Hello to you, too, she almost said, but stopped herself in time. Business, she reminded herself, as she had several times over the last two days and another dozen times in the car on the way there. Strictly business.

Just because he filled out faded jeans better than a cigarette-ad cowboy and a T-shirt better than the latest martial arts hero was no reason she couldn’t conduct herself like an adult.

Unfortunately, just watching him walk in front of her was making her feel exceedingly … adult.

“Where’s Frank?” she asked abruptly, so annoyed at her preoccupation with Zach that she barely shifted in time to avoid brushing against a rolling tool cart, the row of drawers half open and filled with grimy equipment.

“Right here,” called a gravelly voice. A moment later a man in a wheelchair rolled into view from behind a car jacked a few feet off the ground. His wiry frame was garbed in traditional grease-covered overalls, his thinning gray hair putting him at his mid-sixties in her estimation.

Suddenly it clicked in her mind what it was about the garage that had seemed out of place. It wasn’t the orderliness—it was the arrangement. Her gaze darted quickly to the walls. The tools and various belts and such were all hanging no higher than four feet from the ground.

She didn’t dare look at Zach as she shook the hand
Frank had just wiped clean and stretched out to her. “I’m pleased to meet you,” she said sincerely.

“Mutual,” he grunted. “The go-carts are back here.” Frank spun the wheelchair around and headed for an open door leading to a small lot behind the garage.

“Go-carts?” she whispered to Zach, alarm creeping into her voice.

“That’s what Frank calls them. Don’t worry, you’ll see.” He stepped aside and let her pass through the door first.

There on the back lot were two small, four-wheeled vehicles, neither even close to being new if the dents and patches of missing paint were any indication.

Frank rolled over to the nearest one. “I know they aren’t pretty, but they’ll do the job right enough.” He shifted back a few feet and motioned with his hand. “Go ahead, hop in.”

“Me?” Dara turned uncertainly to Zach.

“Of course you,” Zach replied. “You’re the one who needs to approve them.” He grasped her elbow and propelled her forward a few steps. “Besides”—he grinned unabashedly—“I already tried one out. Too slow for my taste, but these days I guess they’ll be right up your alley.”

Dara didn’t bother answering him. There was nothing wrong with slow and sedate. But she wasn’t going to let him bait her into an argument about their opposing lifestyle choices. She spared a quick glance at her silk dress and low heels, wondering why she hadn’t counted on this possibility.

She caught the knowing twinkle in Zach’s eyes, and some tiny remaining seed of her childhood sprang forth
in response. Before she had time to question it, Dara had plopped her Day-Timer on the ground, hitched up her skirt well above her knees and stepped into the recessed well between the front wheels. The seat had been modified to a bucket-type contraption so the driver didn’t have to straddle it.

She settled in, the area a bit small even for her, making her wonder how in the world Zach had tried the thing. She didn’t ask. “Sort of reminds me of a mini dune buggy.”

Frank leaned over and pointed to the buttons on the left side of the dashboard and the two small levers by her left knee. “I simplified as much as possible. The key unlocks the ignition. Once it’s in, turn it to the left. Then all they need to do is push the green button to start it up.”

“I see. And I guess the red button stops it.”

“That shuts the engine off. The brake is the bottom padded area in the center of the steering wheel. The top one is the horn.”

“What about the levers?”

“The one with the black knob is the emergency brake, the one with the yellow knob is to put it in reverse. The speed is controlled by the pressure pads lining the steering wheel.” He motioned to the black rubber strips on the sides of the small wheel. “Just give them a little pressure and off you go. Top speed is about five miles per hour. Zach told me the kids were nine and ten years old. If they can handle motorized wheelchairs, they can handle this.”

She started to speak, but Zach cut in. “I know Brandon’s coordination is limited. Frank will attach a coupling
device to each car so they can be linked together if necessary.”

Dara smiled, truly impressed. Turning to Frank, she said, “This is wonderful. Can I really try it?” She glanced up and caught Zach looking at her, obviously pleased by her acceptance of Frank’s hard work. Well, there was no point in denying it. “Okay, Brogan, you win this round.” Then she gave a little whoop, pressed the green button and putted forward. “Not exactly a bucking bronc of a ride,” she said as she turned smoothly at the edge of the lot, “but it seems perfect for the kids.”

She drove around the back lot twice, checking out the reverse speed before pulling back in between Zach and Frank.

“I’ll connect a shoulder and chest harness to the back of the seat,” Frank added, “and they should wear helmets, but otherwise this is as good as it gets.”

“And it’ll do okay on the hills? Even downhill?”

“They may have to work the brake coming back down, but it shouldn’t be difficult since it stays in such a low gear.”

Zach appeared at her side to help her climb out. “I plan to keep them on as level a grade as possible,” he said, “so there won’t be any steep climbs or descents. It will take a bit longer that way, but getting there is half the fun. Right?”

Dara took his hand, knowing it would have been a less than graceful exit without his help. His hand lingered an extra instant or two before dropping away, the caress of his fingers up her wrist and across her inner elbow so slight, she thought she might have imagined it. A quick glance at Zach’s brown eyes told her she hadn’t.

Doing her best to ignore him, she turned to Frank. “This is really incredible after only two days.” She looked over her shoulder and added, “The kids’ parents will have to approve them, of course. But I admit, I am impressed.” She turned back to Frank. “Have you done this sort of thing before?”

He nodded. “I work with a few of the local handicap groups, and I’ve done a few things for the Special Olympics people in the area.” He tapped the chrome sides of his wheelchair. “I was a mechanic long before I ended up in this thing, so it was only natural to want to tinker with them, see if I could adapt them.”

Dara suspected it went deeper than his casual explanation, but didn’t push it. “Well, I think it’s wonderful. Will you be able to use these again … later?” She almost said after the trip, but Zach had already scored one big win today, so it wasn’t a wise idea to let him think he had it sewn up. He didn’t, not by a long shot.

Frank squinted against the sun as he looked up at Zach. “All depends, I guess.” Not bothering to explain the cryptic remark, he wheeled around and headed back to the garage. “I’ll get the other two done and store ’em inside at night. Just let me know when you’re gonna come for ’em.”

“Will do,” Zach called after him. “Thanks again, Frank, I’ll call you later. I owe you a big one.”

“Yeah, I’ll bill you.” The older man’s laugh was more a rough bark and faded as he disappeared inside.

Dara turned to Zach, the question out before she had time to think about it. “Didn’t you pay the man for all this?”

Zach took her elbow in his big hand and steered her
around the outside of the building. “Frank’s taken care of.”

Dara opened her mouth to ask exactly what he meant by that but snapped it shut again. After all, it was none of her business. Another indication of Zach’s casual “don’t worry, be happy” lifestyle, no doubt.

Other books

Hereafter by Snyder, Jennifer
The Lost Years by Clark, Mary Higgins
Showdown at Widow Creek by Franklin W. Dixon
Ecko Burning by Danie Ware
Son of Destruction by Kit Reed
Deadly Race by Margaret Daley


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024