by Jodi Thomas
Cody glanced back at the women. Sarah had fainted, and Katherine was kneeling beside her on the grass. Without hesitation, he ran to the other plane.
“I’m going up in yours, Cliff,” he yelled as he jumped into the cockpit and started the engine. “See after the women.”
Before his words could register on the stunned pilot, Cody was heading down the runway a hundred yards behind Bart. Within minutes he was airborne and circling so he could see Bart’s plane, his plane, crossing into no-man’s-land between the trenches. Firepower brightened the sky without reaching Bart’s plane. Puffs of man-made smoke drifted skyward to join the gathering thunderclouds.
Bart flew a mile over the line until he was no more than a dot. Cody stayed parallel to him on the other side and watched for a signal. He couldn’t help but smile. There was no doubt in his mind the pilot was Bart. No man handled a plane the way he did. Even with the war below, it felt good to be in the air again with his old friend.
They flew with their backs to the sun the way the Red Baron liked to do. That way they’d be harder to spot coming out of the light. It wasn’t much protection, but it was all Bart could count on.
Cody found himself talking to Bart as if his friend could somehow hear him. “Steady, now. No hurry. Keep an eye out. Watch your back.” He thought of all the things that could go wrong with Bart’s plane besides running out of gas. The engine could lock up, sending him into a dive. Oil could splatter over the body and catch fire. Most pilots claimed that fire was a frequent passenger on their flights. If one started, there was no way Bart could make it across no-man’s-land before he went down.
The sun rose higher and still they flew. Cody knew fuel was too low to even bother checking now. “Come on back home!” he yelled at Bart as if his friend could hear him. “We’ll refuel and go up again.”
Only Cody knew Bart understood that wasn’t in the plans. “Fly until you find them or you run out of fuel. Thousands of lives are at stake.” Only when Bart reached the buildup, there’d be enough guns waiting to shoot a hundred planes down. So the orders should have read, “Fly until you die.”
Suddenly the ground started popping as if someone had set off a long string of firecrackers. Cody saw several German planes scouting along the horizon heading north. A magnesium flare shot from Bart’s plane, spotting the sky white with a starburst signal and pinpointing the buildup at the same time he gave away his position to the enemy planes.
Swearing loudly, Cody dived and searched for a place to land. He wanted desperately to cross the line and give Bart a hand in the dogfight, but he had to notify the troops on the ground of what Bart had found or it would have all been wasted.
Moments later he touched ground just behind the trenches with the jolt of a rookie and jumped from his plane. Several men crawled out of their foxholes and ran toward him.
“Wire your command office that we’ve found the buildup!” he yelled in French. “Wire them your location. You men are sitting right where they plan to come across.”
It seemed as if he shouted the order a hundred times before the men finally heard and started running back to the trenches.
As soon as he knew the message would be sent, he climbed back in his plane. He’d be lucky if there was enough gas to get him off the ground, but he had to try to find Bart. He should have crossed over the line just behind Cody, unless he’d made one last circle to get more information.
By now the sun was too high to offer any protection. Thunder rumbled to the south, but it was drowned out by the roar of war. Cody took to the air in one expert sweep and headed back to where he’d last seen Bart’s plane. He flew through thin, wet clouds as he crossed over the jagged veins of trench warfare and entered enemy skies.
About the time Cody reached the spot where he’d last seen Bart, he heard the roar of another plane coming in fast on his left. He maneuvered and prepared to fire just as he spotted his own plane clearing the mist.
Bart’s blue scarf was flying as he circled Cody and waved toward safety. They flew side by side, wings almost touching as they had when they’d done shows. Turning west they headed toward home.
They crossed the German trenches with the help of cloud cover. Cody took his first deep breath since he’d been airborne and set his sights on the green land just beyond the Allied trenches.
But before he could exhale, his engine sputtered and locked. In near panic, he watched the propeller stop as if a giant hand had held it motionless.
He fought wildly at the controls as the nose of his plane pointed toward the earth. Pulling at the sticks did little good, for he had no control of the plane.
Cody watched the earth hurry toward him. He had crashed many times, had even jumped from the plane a few times before it hit the earth. But never in no-man’s-land. The ground was barren and dead with constant firing across what had once been a pasture.
Without the engine the world was strangely silent as he went down. He could feel bullets hitting the sides of his plane, but no sound reached him. Air rushed past his ears as he headed down.
Pain suddenly sliced across his leg as a bullet went into his muscle. Another cut deep across his shoulder. His hands braced against the controls, fighting the pain, fighting the blackness that was trying to invade his mind. By instinct he released his belt. One more bullet, he thought, and I won’t feel the pain of the crash.
The plane hit the battlefield like a broken toy. It bounced and tipped almost over before rocking to a stop, hurtling Cody from the craft.
Bullets and bombs were everywhere. He grabbed his useless left arm with his right hand and rolled away from the plane, which was taking all the gunfire. The ground was hard and uneven, bruising and scratching him as he rolled.
When he was several feet from the plane, he stopped rolling and raised his head an inch, realizing he’d lost all sense of direction. Even if he could keep from passing out, he had no idea which side was which. They both seemed to be firing at him and the plane.
Cody’s mind darkened, and he thought he heard the roar of another plane. Suddenly, from nowhere, Bart flew in low and slow. He passed so close that if Cody had stood up, he could have touched the wings.
Blinking at the wind and dust, Cody turned his head an instant later to see Bart’s plane crash in flames. Black smoke rose in the air, curtaining off the sight of the far trenches.
“Now’s our chance!” Bart yelled from only a few feet away as he stood dusting himself off like some cowboy who’d just jumped from a bronco. “Let’s run for it.”
Cody tried to get up, but blood soaked his leg and shoulder. “Go on without me. You can make it before the smoke clears.”
Bart grabbed Cody’s good arm and slung him over one shoulder. “Hang on. I’ve got fifty bucks says we bom make it.”
He limped across the uneven ground toward the Allied trenches.
“Drop me!” Cody yelled.
“Like hell!” Bart shouted above the firing. “What’ll I use for a shield?” His baritone laughter blended with the thunder and gunfire. “If I drop you, one of those crazy Frenchmen might shoot me for trying to act like one of them.”
“You can make it alone!”
“Trust me, partner. I’ve already died a few times. I know how to do this.” Bart’s hold remained firm around his friend.
A huge explosion shook the earth as lightning split the sky. Nature had decided to join in the battle. Bart dived for a trench a few yards away. The world turned black in Cody’s mind. In his last moment of consciousness, he saw Kat’s face before him.
Thirty-one
SARAH BURROWED INTO her pillow and smiled before forcing her eyes to open. Slowly the room took form. The ever-moving tent walls, a lamp mat never seemed to cast enough light, Kat sitting beside her.
“I had the strangest dream,” Sarah began.
Kat stared at her with a mixture of worry and fear in her green eyes.
Sarah forced the world into focus. “It wasn’t a dream! I did see Bart!”
She could tell by Kat’s reaction that her words were true. “He was wearing a blue scarf. He took Cody’s plane.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He took the death flight.”
Katherine nodded. “I didn’t know.” Her fingers were laced so tightly together they were ghost white from lack of blood circulation. “I never dreamed the mechanic was Bart. I never got a clear view of his face, and he was so much thinner man Bart.”
Sarah didn’t understand Kat’s reaction. “Of course you didn’t know. I’d talked to him many times and didn’t guess. How could we? We both thought Bart was dead.”
Katherine closed her eyes and bit her lip until she tasted blood. “I knew he was still alive somewhere.”
“But you told me—”
“Bart made me swear to tell you he died the day he was burned. After the accident the doctors told him he’d probably never walk again. He didn’t want you to waste your life nursing him.”
Sarah’s hand covered Katherine’s laced fingers. “And you went along with the lie? You allowed me to believe he died?”
Katherine nodded, wishing she could travel back in time and change one sentence. One lie. “Sarah, I—”
“No, Kat” Sarah pulled her hand away. “I don’t want to talk about it now. My mind is flooded with worry. Until this morning I thought my Bart was dead. The moment I discovered he was alive I learned he had gone on a suicide mission. A mission I practically begged him to take for Cody. I can’t handle any more pain, any more lies.”
All the years of friendship were tumbling around Kat’s feet. She would have given her life to go back and restore Sarah’s trust, but she couldn’t change history, only the future. “Will you forgive me?”
For the first time in her life Sarah’s eyes were cold when she looked at Katherine. “I’m not sure I can forgive you or him. When he returns, if he returns, I may very well strangle him for what he’s put me through.”
Katherine couldn’t help but smile. She’d never seen such anger in her friend. The anger would melt away the pain of feeling betrayed. Mild little Sarah was forging a strength amid the fires of her wrath. A power that when combined with her compassion would see her through any ordeal.
“Remember.” Katherine stood and moved toward the door. “I’m here if you need me. I’m not perfect, but I’ll always be your friend.”
Sarah didn’t answer for a long while. Finally she said, “You had no right to do what you did. I would have gone to Bart.”
“I know,” Katherine answered. She didn’t have to explain. Sarah could figure out her reasons for lying. She stepped outside the tent to allow Sarah time alone, knowing she would have to abide by whatever Sarah decided.
Thirty-two
BY THE TIME Katharine and Sarah received word about their men, the sky had turned dark with rain. They were both working when Dr. Wells called them aside and gave them a message. The report simply stated that both planes had gone down in the no-man’s-land between the two trenches. Both men were listed as missing.
“Bart’s not dead,” Sarah said soberly. “I believed it once, but not again.” Her eyes were devoid of tears. She’d cried an ocean of tears for him already.
Sarah pivoted to return to her duties, but Katherine’s hand on her sleeve stopped her.
“All I can say once more is I’m sorry.” Katherine felt as though her world had come crashing down around her lie. With each hour that passed without Sarah speaking to her, she felt worse. “I wanted to tell you, but after Bart disappeared, there seemed no point. I’ve let that lie eat away at me for so long. Every time I looked at the scar on my palm, I wanted to confess, but Bart made us swear to be silent.”
“Us?” Sarah looked straight into Kat’s eyes. “Cody also knew, of course.”
“He was there. He’s the one who pulled Bart from the fire,” Kat answered.
Sarah stared at Kat. “Neither of you thought I had a right to know Bart was alive.”
“We were wrong.” Kat could no longer face Sarah. All her bravery had vanished. “I see that now.”
“We need to get back to work.” But Sarah didn’t move.
Katherine nodded, but also stood motionless.
Then slowly Sarah placed an arm around Katherine’s shoulder. As always, she felt Katherine’s pain. She remembered the day they’d become blood sisters; she had felt both cuts as if they were both her own. “I should be really angry with you, but all I can think about is that my Bart was alive and was near me and I didn’t even know it.”
Katherine held Sarah tight, wishing she could make up for all the pain her lie had caused.
Finally Sarah tried to lighten the mood. “Stop worrying about the past. The anger I feel toward you and Cody is nothing compared to what I feel for Bart. If he isn’t dead this time, he’ll be returning to an angry woman, not some frightened girl. All those months he was in the shadows and never let me love him. He’s got some making up to do.”
Both women laughed, but the worry lines never left their faces. They worked and talked, trying to pass the time without allowing dread to consume them. After three days of waiting, vehicles of every description began to arrive from the south carrying wounded. The drivers told of a great battle in which men had fallen by the thousands.
Katherine and Sarah asked every driver and wounded man who could speak if he’d seen two planes go down at the same time in no-man’s-land just before the battle. Every time the answer was the same: no.
Finally, almost four days after the men had flown off, a driver stepped into the hospital one night and motioned Katherine to him.
When she reached him, he whispered, “You know them two pilots you were looking for?” He smiled, happy with himself for what he’d discovered. “I got them both on my truck. They’re shot up…”
Katherine was too far away to listen to more. She lifted her skirt and ran for the tent.
The ambulance was parked outside in the rain. A huge black tarp draped over the back of it offered shelter but no warmth for the bunks with wounded inside.
Katherine didn’t notice the mud or the rain. She climbed into the back of the truck and moved from cot to cot. “Cody?” she called, afraid to hope.
“Hi, Red,” said a familiar voice, minus a French accent.
“Bart!” Katherine dropped to her knees beside his bunk. “You both made it back.”
Bart coughed. “Plus a few bullet holes and minus a little blood. I had to bring him back to you. Sarah begged me to, and damned if I don’t do whatever that little lady tells me.”
“And did you come back to her?” His leg and arm were bandaged. Katherine could see the right side of his face now, all scarred and twisted flesh. But after what he’d done, he would never be anything but handsome in her eyes. “You’ve come back to Sarah?”
Bart remained silent until he realized she was prepared to wait all night for the answer. “If I could have gotten off this truck, I wouldn’t have come back. They loaded us up before I knew the driver would head this direction. She can do a lot better than the likes of me for a husband. It’s best I walk away. Tell her—”
“No!” Katherine answered before he could even begin his request. “I’m not telling her anything but the truth for as long as I live. If you have something to say to Sarah, you’ll have to tell her yourself. But you’re right. If you haven’t got the sense to know how much she loves you, you don’t deserve her.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him for three days.” Cody’s voice was weak, but clear as it came from the bunk above Bart’s.
Katherine cried out and reached for her husband, hugging him so hard he groaned in pain.
“Easy on the boy, Red,” Bart grumbled. “I didn’t save his hide to have you squeeze him to death.”
When Katherine released Cody, he was laughing. “I’ve always wanted to die in your arms, but not this way.”
The pain in his eyes brought forth all her nursing skills. Within an hour both he and Bart were settled into a corner of the hospital
and their wounds had been cleaned and dressed. Bart’s were mostly flesh wounds and bruises, but Cody’s shoulder would take months to heal. Due to his blood loss, he had little more color than the sheet, but Dr. Wells wasn’t worried. All the medicine Cody needed to recover stood beside him holding his hand as if she planned never to let go.
By dawn both men were resting quietly and Katherine sent one of the nurses to wake Sarah. Ten minutes later Sarah stormed into the hospital like a whirlwind in blue.
Dr. Wells blocked her path to Bart. “Now slow down, Nurse Sarah,” he said in a voice that rang with laughter for the first time in a year. “I know you’re mad at this man. Katherine told me all about it. But I’ll have none of the wounded killed by my nurses.”
Sarah replied with deceptive calmness. “Is Bart in any danger of dying from his wounds?”
The doctor relaxed. “No. He’ll recover. Fact is, after he spends a day or two in here for observation, I’ll probably kick him out.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I have no intention of doing him bodily harm.” Sarah smiled so innocently she could have melted steel. “I’m sure Katherine exaggerated when she told you about my anger.”
The doctor nodded and took a step backward. He’d found it hard to believe gentle little Sarah could hold more than a pint of anger.
She stepped around him and moved with all the grace of a trained nurse to Bart’s bed. Pulling up a stool, she sat staring at his sleeping face for several minutes. It was a face she’d loved years ago. She’d touched his cheek in the shadows only days ago and never known whose heart beat so near her own.
The scars on the right side of his face ran from his hairline down past his neck. For a moment she wanted to turn away, for she could almost smell the burned flesh and bloody skin that must have been fused together to create the mark. It must have been horrible living with the pain until the wounds eventually healed. She could imagine what it had been like watching the red, seeping, swollen flesh heal into the twisted scar. And then to look into people’s eyes and see pity in those who were strong enough to look directly at his face.
