Oddly enough, Wesley understood his meaning. If any man had so much as looked at Beth the wrong way, he would have taken a punch at them in a heartbeat. But Maggie’s uncle seemed more worried about the family’s reputation than his niece’s well-being.
Was that why he had jumped to Maggie’s defense? Or the way her delicate jaw had lifted in defiance in the face of her uncle’s insults? Well, she’d better get used to it. Though he would do his level best to temper the men’s comments, he couldn’t rescue her every time someone made a crack about her. Talk about setting tongues to wagging.
Wesley stood at the doorway and scanned the room. Merrilee had a talent of making any place a home and this room was no different. Maggie stood next to the night stand, her fingertips caressing a single rosebud surrounded by a handful of dandelions in a mason jar. A silky curtain of reddish gold hair fell across her face as she bent toward the white blossom. Her eyes closed, she took a deep breath as trying to engrave this moment in her memory.
She turned, her gaze meeting his. “I’ve always loved roses.”
His heart tightened for some reason he’d rather not explore. “Miss Merrilee sent me out to cut that bud right after church this morning. She said something about white roses being your favorite.”
“They are.”
Wesley took a step closer. “And the dandelions?”
“It depends.” Her lips rounded into a smile. “Who picked them?”
“Your cousin Claire,” Wesley answered. “She said she wanted to give you a handful to blow a wish on until Merrilee reminded her that those wishes turned into weeds.”
“Well, if Claire picked them.” She took another deep breath before straightening. “These are perfect.”
He didn’t like that her comment pleased him so much. “Where do you want me to put your things?”
“On the bed would be fine.”
He walked across the rug-laden floor and tossed the case onto the corn husk mattress. The suitcase settled, carving out a large dent. “What kind of books did you pack?”
“Jackson’s first year engineering books.” Maggie opened the closet and gathered several hangers. “I figure they’ll give me a head start when I apply to Tech after the war.”
He wasn’t about to get into a battle about her admission into Tech. “He must have started right after I left to work at Bell.”
“Probably.” Maggie opened the lid of her case. “He was a junior when he joined the air corps last year.”
“What was he majoring in?”
“Look.” Maggie turned from her packed case to glare at him. “It was nice of you to help me out with my uncle downstairs but I really don’t need your help.”
Wesley shook his head. “It didn’t look that way to me.”
“Some people in my family have got this old-fashioned idea that women shouldn’t have a life outside of marriage and kids.” She grabbed a pair of overalls from her case and shook them out. “I’ve got to prove myself to them.”
“Why?”
She shrugged one shoulder as she picked up a hanger. “I just have to, that’s all.”
“And if you don’t?”
Maggie’s chin rose in that obstinate determination he had gotten a glimpse of at their first meeting. “Thank you for carrying my suitcase up. I appreciate it.”
He’d been dismissed! The muscles in Wesley’s jaw tightened as he walked out of the room. Maggie may think she’s had some rough skies with her family but that was nothing.
The real battle starts tomorrow.
3
A fine sheen of moisture plastered Maggie’s pajamas to her body. She rolled over on her side for the millionth time, her limbs crying out for the escape sleep would provide.
The day had left her alert, her brain firing on all four cylinders. Not one to waste time, she had cleaned out her suitcase by the time her daddy had come up to her room to say good-bye. A dull ache bundled in her chest. Her father had always been so strong, almost invincible, but this afternoon in his arms, she had felt the slump in his shoulders, recognized the sorrow in each new line that creased his face. Her once vibrant parent had aged terribly since Jackson’s death, and she couldn’t help but mourn yet another loss.
Thank heavens for Merrilee! The dust had barely settled in the yard before her aunt hustled her into the sitting room to meet the other occupants of the house. As introductions were made, Maggie couldn’t help noticing Captain Hicks’ obvious absence.
He asked me to call him Wesley. Untangling the sheets from around her legs, she tossed back the covers and sat up, skimming her fingers across the nightstand for matches. Within seconds, eerie shadows from the kerosene lamp danced untamed against the wall. Maggie quickly glanced toward the windows. Good, at least she’d remembered to close the blackout curtains.
She grabbed her robe, the scent of Momma’s lavender soap cradling her in memories of home. For one split second, she wished she was stretched out on her bed, the sounds of her parents stirring in the next room a comfort. In those moments, in the peaceful conversations between her mother and father, Maggie longed for something more. A home. A family of her own. But most importantly, a man who loved her, flying and all.
No, it was best if she traveled this unconventional path alone.
Picking up her watch from the nightstand, Maggie glanced at the time and grimaced. Three a.m. Maybe some warm milk would lull her to sleep. She grasped the base of the lantern. Balancing the light in one hand, she slipped out of her room.
The lamp cast shadows down the hallway, guiding her around bits and pieces of furniture. The night air nipped at her bare legs. The hardwood floor moaning its soft protest beneath her feet as she tiptoed down the stairs. At the hall landing, she stopped. A ray of pale light shone from under the sitting room door.
Who else would be up at this hour?
Sitting down the lantern, she plastered herself against the wall. At training camp, she had been prepared for everything, including possible intruders but never in a million years could she imagine it could happen here, in Merrliee’s home.
But the country was at war and anything was possible. She scoured the corridor for a weapon. Claire’s jump rope dangled from the banister. Maggie frowned. Hop-A-Long Cassidy might know how to hog-tie a bad guy, but lassoes were out of her league.
A low whimper from behind the partially closed door caught Maggie off guard. She peeked inside. Twin Queen Anne chairs in faded sapphire sat in front of the fireplace which lay dormant except for on cool nights like tonight. One of Merrilee’s handmade rugs graced the hardwood floor beneath chairs, giving the room a cozy feel.
Her imagination must be playing tricks on her. There is was. A sniffle, as if someone were crying. She walked deeper into the room, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth like a cotton dress in the middle of July. The wooden planks beneath her let out a soft groan.
A woman leaned over the side of the chair. Maggie took a deep breath. It was one of the people she’d met this afternoon. She grasped for a name. Edie something or other.
Good thing You called me to fly planes, Lord, ‘cause I’d make a rotten spy. Combing her fingers through her wild hair, Maggie stopped by the chair. “I didn’t mean to intrude on you.”
“I was just catching up on the news from home.” Edie shoved a folded paper into an envelope. A hint of tears glistened on her cheeks in the firelight.
“Where’s home?” Maggie slipped into the chair beside her and stretched her legs out toward the warmth of the fire.
“Detroit.”
“That must be hard, being that far away from everyone you know.”
“It is, but it’s the only way I can move up in the company.” Edie fiddled with a piece of yellow ribbon tangled in the end of her braid.
Was that a note of frustration in Edie’s voice? “What do you do?”
“I’m secretary to Mr. Carson. At least, for now anyway.”
“Bob Carson?”
Edie nodded. “Does eve
ryone know everybody else in this town?”
Maggie chuckled softly, snuggling into the cushions of the chair. “I guess it seems that way. It was that way before the war, but with all the new folks moving in, I don’t think I know everyone anymore.”
Edie cocked her head to the side and studied her. “So how do you know Mr. Carson?”
“He and my Uncle James have been in cahoots since their days at the old agricultural school in Powder Springs. When Bell announced plans for building the bomber plant here in Marietta, Uncle James went before the executive committee and recommended Mr. Carson for the plant manager’s job.”
“Oh.”
Edie lowered her gaze, but not before Maggie caught the guarded look in her eyes. Maggie reached out and covered one of the woman’s hands with her own. “I’ve got no use for Bob Carson myself, not since I happen to know he has the same opinion of woman as my uncle does.”
“You mean, outdated and insulting.”
“Exactly.” Maggie smiled, happy to see Edie relax. She stretched her hands down the length of the armrest and stretched. “Still, you’ve got be a brave woman to take on your job. It’s a huge responsibility.”
“It is.” Edie raised one of Merrilee’s tea cups to her lips and took a sip. “But it’s great opportunity, and if I hope to get a position in the drafting department one day, I couldn’t pass it up.”
Poor thing. Mr. Carson would rather die than promote a woman to a man’s job. But there were some who once thought a woman would never pilot a plane either. “I felt the same way about joining the WASP. Like if I didn’t do it, I’d be missing something wonderful.”
“Merrilee mentioned your first day is tomorrow. Are you excited?”
“Yes.” Maggie covered her mouth as she yawned. “And nervous. Which is why I’m prowling around in the middle of the night.”
Edie lifted her cup in a slight toast. “Care to join me?”
“I’m going to need the hard stuff.” Maggie stood and walked to the mahogany table pushed up against the wall. Because the kitchen was detached from the main house, her aunt always left a pitcher full of milk in a large bowl of chipped ice every night. Grabbing a tumbler, she filled her glass until it was almost full.
“I can’t get use to fresh milk, especially when it’s still warm.” Edie wrinkled her nose.
“Just one of the pleasures of country life.” Cupping her hands around the glass, Maggie took a sip. “So how long have you been living here with Aunt Merrilee?”
“Almost three months. I roomed with some girls down in Little Five Points, but with my hours, it didn’t work out.” Edie stretched her neck to the side. “When I put out the word I was looking for a place to stay, Wesley recommended Miss Merrilee.”
“You know the Captain?” She wasn’t sure why but the thought of this woman and Captain Hicks together caused an uncomfortable knot to form in her chest.
“We talk when he comes in to visit with Mr. Carson.”
Sure, the captain was nice to Edie. She wasn’t homing in on the man’s job. “It was good of him to help you out.”
“Mr. Carson thinks a lot of him.” Edie set her cup down on the table beside her. “Wesley turned down a job in the aeronautical division at the Buffalo plant so he could serve in the Royal Air Force.” She leaned back. “He’d be considered necessary personal, but Mr. Carson couldn’t talk him out of it. He has a lot of respect for what Wesley did.”
Sitting down beside Edie, Maggie took another sip of her milk, her thoughts tangled. She’d read about the pilots of the Royal Air Force and watched their stories play out on the movie screen at the Strand before the matinee began. These admirable men had fought the enemy with nothing more than a dilapidated piece of machinery and sheer guts, who had put their lives on the line to save their country.
And Wesley Hicks had once been one of them.
But his visits with her uncle’s friend bothered her. If Wesley was the a-okay guy everyone made him out to be, why would he associated with a man as antiquated as Bob?
A thunderous boom from the direction of the front hall shook the house. With a quick glance at Edie, Maggie bolted from her chair. Looking back to see her new friend grab the matches and a lantern, she hurried to the door and peeked down the hallway. Moonlight streamed in through the front door, transforming the delicate figurines decorating Merrilee’s tables into playful ghosts. Maggie inhaled a steadying breath. Maybe the wind had blown open the door.
A lump on the floor moaned.
Her eyes followed the path of the carpet. Her heart kicked into high alert at the sight of a body slumped inside the doorway.
“Who is it?” Edie whispered behind her.
“I don’t know. Wait here.”
With as much courage as she could muster, Maggie started down the hall. The pane glass windows from the front door rattle softly, in sync with the jittery beat coursing through her nerve endings. The doorknob banged against the wall, muted by the billowy pillow of the cotton curtains.
The mass on the floor rolled over onto his back. Shadows and light revealed sunken cheeks, a broad forehead, and a gaping hole for a mouth. Maggie went down on her knees beside him, the sickening odor of sweat and corn liquor cogging her throat.
“Is he dead?” Edie asked from the doorway.
“Dead drunk.”
Maggie lifted her head at the familiar male voice. There on the stairwell stood Wesley Hicks, his hair mussed as if he also had been having a hard time drifting off to sleep. One side of his bibbed overalls hung loosely, barely covering the muscular expansion of his chest.
Her eyes locked with his and for a spilt second, she was lost in his gaze. Maggie’s stomach dipped and swayed, as if she had hit an air pocket that had lifted her higher into the atmosphere. She finally found her voice. “Do you know this guy?”
“Let me introduce you. This is Jimbo Hayes, another one of Merrilee’s renters.” Wesley took the last two steps and joined her by the door. “And my best test pilot.”
4
Wesley stretched his hand over his mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to stifle another yawn. Everyone at the Bell knew Major Evans could be longwinded with he got started, but this welcoming speech for Maggie took the cake.
How was the guest of honor holding up? Wesley stole a look at her and grimaced. For someone who’d had only a couple of hours of sleep, the woman positively glowed.
“Miss Daniels, I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to have you here. General Arnold speaks highly of Jackie Cochran’s pilots. Personally, I can’t wait to see you in action.” The major said, turning to Wesley. “Isn’t that right, Captain?”
“Yes sir.”
But Wesley had already seen the feisty redhead at work. The major continued to talk as Wesley sifted through the moments after he’d found Maggie leaning over his inebriated pilot. She had been stunned, but no more than he had when he knelt beside her, his lungs filling with the fresh lavender scent that clung to the air around her.
Maggie had moved first. While he dragged Jimbo into the front parlor, she’d shuffled Edie up the stairs. He’d barely had time to get the man situated on the long sofa when the aroma of fresh coffee penetrated the room. Quietly, Maggie carried a tray of steaming brew and thick pieces of homemade bread. For the next hour, she coaxed Jimbo into small sips. The first light of dawn pushed against the edges of the blackout blinds before Maggie retired.
Wesley clinched his teeth together to hold back a yawn. Why didn’t she hightail it back home and make life easier for the both of them? But she wouldn’t back down. Maggie would face whatever dangers came her way even if it killed her.
Like it did Beth.
He’d have to find another way to keep the woman grounded, which might be hard to do if the major’s reaction was anything to go by. Wesley studied the major. The man had never seemed so delighted, leaning his beefy body back in his chair to get a better look at Maggie. Evans was enchanted by the woman.
Not that Wesley couldn�
��t fault the man. Wesley glanced over at his new squadron member. She did have a certain charm. A cream-colored snood held back a knot of thick hair, save a single curl that burned a trail down her pale throat. No powder or rouge covered the light dusting of freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. Though not like the glamorous girl pilots he’d met in England, Maggie had an innocence that he found irritatingly refreshing.
“Your family has done a great service to this country,” Major Evans leaned on his forearms. “I’m sure you’ll do the same.”
“I hope so, sir.” Maggie answered with a smile.
“Now all we’ve got to do is get you a bird to fly.” The Major looked over at Wesley. “Have you given Miss Daniels a tour of the plant?”
“Not yet, sir,” he replied. recalling the awestruck excitement on Maggie’s face as they entered the plant that morning. “But I think Miss Daniels is already impressed with what she’s seen.”
Tilting his chair back, Evans peered out of a window to his side. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“The old ball field never looked so good, sir.”
“You know this area?” The major glanced at her.
“I believe you know her aunt.” Wesley offered. “Merrilee Davenport?”
“Merrilee?” The major’s question was filled with interest, as if saying the woman’s name brought him great pleasure. “She’s such a gracious soul, loaning her home out to our staff.”
“That’s just my aunt’s way. She’s always thinking up ways to help other people.”
Maggie must have picked up the major’s interest in her aunt judging from the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Good grief! Last thing he needed right now was a female with romance on her mind. “Miss Daniels spent a great deal of time at her aunt’s while she was growing up.”
“It was my grandfather’s house then, but I practically lived there.”
The major smiled. “It must be wonderful to serve your country right here where you grew up.”
Maggie’s simple nod surprised him. Was his new pilot not excited by her hometown assignment? The woman had a great family; her father, Merrilee, Claire. They were all fine people. As good as gold. Granted, her Uncle James left something to be desired, but there was always one problem in every family.
Hearts in Flight Page 3
