He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “Still no service.” He shoved the phone into his pocket and leaned over the bar. “What’s happening?”

Presumably, someone besides the kid running the ride was aware of their predicament. Hoping to spot a rescue party, she risked a look.

The operator glanced upward. He swept off his cap and scratched his bleached-blond mop.

Richard dropped his head against the seat with a thud. “Moron.”

Benton’s must have procedures in place for mechanical problems. Surely someone would arrive and help them to safety—she braved the long look down again—somehow.

A balding man in a suit burst from beneath the trees, a retinue of big-haired women behind. He elbowed his way through the growing crowd and planted himself directly below.

One of the women handed the man a bullhorn.

He fumbled for a moment, and the bullhorn screeched. “Is this thing on?” His words echoed across the park.

Richard choked a laugh. “We’re doomed.”

The man cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re having a minor mechanical difficulty with our Ferris wheel. I guess you could say it’s on the fritz! I called a technician and told him to shake a leg—we don’t want to keep you all hanging around.” The man guffawed. “In the meantime, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the view.” He passed the bullhorn to the woman and gave a thumbs-up with both fleshy hands.

Wedging her knees beneath the bar, Tessa crossed her legs. As Richard predicted, the seat already felt hard. “Look on the bright side. I bet we’ll get free admission for life.”

Two men in gray coveralls appeared, carrying a long stepladder between them. They opened it at the base of the Ferris wheel, and soon, the occupants of the lowest cars evacuated.

“We’re gonna need a bigger ladder.” Forcing a smile, she gently elbowed him. “You know, like in Jaws? ‘We’re gonna need a bigger boat?’”

Richard sulked in silence.

“Hey, we already survived a ginormous trout. I’m feeling good about our chances.”

He tugged the baseball cap over his eyes.

Sliding into her corner, she pressed her lips and watched tiny heads bob in the swimming pool below. The gondola rocked in the breeze, and her stomach turned. Richard blamed her. His stony silence practically screamed it. Well, she refused to feel guilty. Who could have guessed the wheel would malfunction? In all her visits, she never saw a single ride break down.

Her motives were pure. She wanted to gift him one delightful, dizzying ride with no phones, no work, and no stress. And she almost pulled it off. She dug her fingernails into her palms. Nope—not guilty. Oh, she was plenty annoyed. She did everything short of cartwheels to give him a fun day at the park, and he doggedly refused. Annoyed but not guilty.