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Juliana sat beside me in the back of the chopper, marveling at the sheer beauty of the spectacular scenery. The red-walled canyons of the Tonto Basin raced by. Up ahead, the looming mesas southeast of Sedona jutted upward, the flat-topped plateaus gently kissing the blue and yellow sky.
All I focus on however, was the smooth, warm thigh butted up against mine.
At first I thought it was a miracle that Maverick had talked her into coming back to us. That maybe he had a slicker tongue than both Gage and I originally thought. The more I looked at her however, the more I realized she needed to be here. Whatever was happening back in New York was taking a toll on her. I could tell she was looking to escape from it — at least temporarily — every bit as much as she’d come here for us.
And God, I was hoping that part was true too.
An updraft pushed us another fifty feet in the air, and Juliana’s hand clenched my own leg a little tighter. It was cute, watching her push down her nervousness. Her curiosity was infectious, and her childlike wonderment over the landscape was something I actually envied.
Up and up we went, until the object of our quest came into view. Maverick swung us over the flat-topped mesa with casual grace, and a few seconds later we were touching down onto the hard rock surface.
“Oh my God!”
It wasn’t the third or fourth or even fifth time she’d uttered the words. I honestly couldn’t blame her. The ride had been fast and furious, and the view up here was absolutely staggering.
“Everybody out,” Gage said, hopping down. “Lots to unpack.”
The whine of the Gazelle’s engines wound slowly down, giving way to wind-whipped silence. I helped Juliana from the chopper, guiding her toward the middle area of the rocky platform we were most familiar with. A rough circle of blackened stones served as our fire-pit, made with rocks we’d taken up here from our own property.
“So you’ve been here before?” she asked, looking down.
“Lots of times,” I told her. “But you’re our first and only guest.”
She spun in a slow circle, taking in the breathtaking view that came with being three-thousand feet above the canyon floor. Her hair floated in the wind behind her perfect face. Her eyes were glassy and gorgeous.
“Unreal,” was all she said.
I kissed her plump, full lips, unable to help myself any longer. It was like drinking from a fountain of liquid rapture.
“Be with you in a minute.”
Maverick was already tying the bird down to the series of metal anchors we’d driven into the rock years ago. Gage and I set about unpacking the cargo hold, which was stuffed with everything from blankets and food to bundles of firewood. We’d spent half the morning gathering ironwood while our angel slept, and we had more than enough to make things warm and cozy.
Eventually we spread out in our usual spot, but this time with an array of picnic blankets and a few pillows to make thing softer. It was a little bit of an adjustment, having a woman around. We weren’t used to accounting for feminine comforts, but I think all three of us quickly learned that we loved providing them just the same.
Gage got the fire going, and between the wind and the dry desert wood it was blazing hotly in no time. Maverick unpacked the food itself — a bunch of fruit and cheese and other stuff we never would’ve brought here except for her — while I spun the cap off the first thermos of hot chocolate.
“I can’t believe we’re on top of amesa,” Juliana breathed.
“And we didn’t even have to climb,” Gage smiled.
I chuckled my agreement. “Climbing’s for suckers.”
“Suckers and non-pilots,” Maverick said, raising his mug.
We toasted by clinking our mugs together and downing the milky, chocolaty deliciousness that Maverick had prepared.
“Well this is amazing,” Juliana declared, still staring around in wonder. For dozens of miles in every direction, there was nothing but rock and sky. “Best of all, it’s the exact opposite of New York City.”
“I still don’t see how you live there,” said Gage, shaking his head.
“Well look at that,” Maverick laughed. “The Oklahoma kid can’t figure out the big city. Who would’ve thought?”
Gage threw a seedless grape at him. He ducked, deftly, but the second shot bounced off the side of his head.
“Maybe it is a little bit like the City,” I offered, pointing. “Those other mesas could be fellow skyscrapers. All the wolves and mountain lions running around down there could be the people.”
“Diamondbacks too,” said Gage. “Slithering through the alleys of the canyons.”
