Devil and the Deep (The Ceruleans Book 4) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,6
the three teenagers trudge toward her, carrying the sleeping bags and pup tents the pilot of the floatplane had passed to them from the aircraft’s small cargo hold. “Looks like we’ll be your company for the night.”
“Glad to have you, ma’am.” The ranger nodded, grinning and flashing a killer set of dimples.
Maddy faked an exaggerated wince. “Oh, please call me Maddy. I’ve been travelin’ with seventeen-year-olds all day, so I already feel older than dirt.”
The young man made a face, and the tips of his ears lit up like the Fourth of July. Lordy, would you look at that? “I’m s-sorry,” he stammered. “I meant no disrespect, ma’am, and I can promise you th-that…”
He trailed off when he realized he’d “ma’am-ed” her again, which might have something to do with the stink eye she pinned on him. He suddenly found the sand at his feet immensely interesting and starting digging for some mysterious object with the toe of his hiking boot.
Maddy chuckled and resisted the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes and tell him he should give up trying to grow that scraggly excuse for a beard. Instead she nudged him with her elbow—Maddy met a lot of strangers but her natural amiability meant they rarely stayed that way for long. “No, I’m sorry. I have four older brothers, so takin’ folks with dangly bits to task is pretty much all in a day’s work for me. And then when I’m forced to get up before the butt crack of dawn—that’s four a.m., in case you were wonderin’—and pick up teenage girls who conspired to create an evil morning person”—she made quote marks with her fingers—“trifecta, I tend be even more persnickety.”
Her momma told her she had a gift for gab, and when she paired it with her friendly smile—like she was doing now—she was pretty good at putting folks at ease. Then again, it wasn’t ease she saw on the young ranger’s face when he blinked at her.
Are those some of his IQ points I see floatin’ out of his ears?
Uh-oh. She was pretty sure they were. And the look on the man’s face was one she knew well. It was the same one her big, dumb brothers donned anytime a woman with cleavage and fluffy Texas hair walked by. In a word: love-struck.
Or is it two words when there’s a hyphen in the middle?
Whatever. Either way she was caught off guard and—
“Oooh,” Louisa Sanchez said as she made her way to Maddy and the ranger. “I think Señorita Maddy has an admirer. Would you look at him blush!”
“Louisa,” Maddy scolded. “Mind your manners or our host here, Ranger…” She glanced at the green lettering stitched above the park ranger’s breast pocket. “Your name is Rick? So, like, Ranger Rick? Ha! Where are Scarlett Fox and Boomer Badger?”
“Who?” Ranger Rick blinked and cocked his head, the joke having landed as softly as a cow falling off a catwalk.
“Oh.” Maddy shook her head. “Um…you know, of the children’s magazine? Ranger Rick the raccoon?”
“Who?” Rick asked a second time, the tips of his ears turning red again.
“Um…” She trailed off, now feeling older than dirt and foolish. Luckily, the sound of the floatplane’s engines whirred to life and saved her from having to finish.
The smell of aviation fuel mixed with the sweeter scents of sunscreen and sun-baked sand, and Maddy waved to the pilot as he carefully backed the aircraft away from the sand and into the water. She shaded her eyes against the setting sun and watched the plane’s pontoons glide over the tops of the gentle waves for a few dozen yards before its wings caught the breeze, lifting the aircraft into a sky that was a happy kaleidoscope of pinks and oranges and reds.
Nothin’ quite like a sunset in the Keys, she thought, listening to the buzzing rotors compete with the screaming seagulls who swooped and dove and looked for their last meal before calling it a night. She turned to Rick. “So where should we set up camp?”
“You’re the only ones registered to overnight on the island,” he said. “Feel free to take your pick.”
“Ohhhh.” Maddy turned to the teenagers and wiggled her eyebrows. In good weather, Garden Key received frequent visitors via the daily fast ferry or, like Maddy and the girls, via a chartered floatplane. Most people stayed for a few hours, exploring the fort and snorkeling around the old pilings, before returning to Key West. But a few camping licenses were