Hearts in Flight

by Patty Smith Hall

  Maggie stared down at her checklist. Maybe that was true for Donna, but she’d grown up around men, knew how their protective nature would interfere with her goals. No, the dreams that God had given her were big enough already.

  “Then how are you going to get the flight time you’ll need to fly commercial jets if you get married?” Maggie marked the landing gear off her list.

  Donna joined Maggie under the plane. “We thought about that. Bill and I both agreed we should wait until after the war’s over so I can continue to get in my hours.”

  Maggie studied the metal seams along the underbelly of the plane, trying to think through gaps in Donna’s logic and finding none. “Whose idea was that?”

  “Mine, but Bill agrees with me,” Donna answered. “Look, he’s known from the first that I want a career and he’s behind me a hundred percent.”

  “Your Bill sounds like a peach of a guy.”

  “He is!” Happiness radiated from every pore in her being. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. I’m meeting Bill downtown at the USO tonight. Why don’t you come with me, get to know the man for yourself?”

  “As much as I’d love to be a third wheel, I’m flying out in a couple of hours.”

  Donna shook her head. “I doubt it. There’s a storm front just west of here, a really gully washer. I barely made it in myself.”

  Handing Donna her clipboard, Maggie marched to the hanger door and flung it open. The scent of rain hung like a thick velvet curtain in the air, the wind cool against her heated cheeks.

  “It’ll be pouring within the next hour,” Donna called out from behind her. “You can trust me on that, Georgia.”

  Maggie smiled at the nickname the other recruits had given her within hours of arriving for basic training. She’d felt like a duck out of water those first few days until one by one, each of them shared their hope of being part of something bigger than themselves.

  What part did love play?

  Rain slowly began to fall. Maggie couldn’t afford love right now, not in a world still struggling to change, not when she still had so much she wanted to do. But the truth didn’t stop her from asking herself what kind of man would she want for herself.

  The storm grew fierce, chewing up the tarmac inch by inch until a heavy dampness invaded her overalls. A door to her left slammed against the metal siding like a clap of thunder, and she turned her head. Through the gray soup, Maggie made out the figure of a man, his hand cupped over his hat, his body pushing against the driving wind. He put his head down, his wide shoulders pummeled by the torrent of rain. Only a determined man would not cowl in the face of such a storm.

  That would be a man worth knowing.

  Maggie stepped back as Wesley came to stand next to her. He pulled his hat from his head, droplets of water hugging his blond hair as if for dear life. “You folks have showers like this often?”

  The smell of rain and Wesley’s soap invading her senses like mustard gas, killing her dreams. She clutched her jacket around her and nodded. “They’re pretty common for this time of year.”

  He slapped his hat against his tight, sending a spray of water in a circle around him. “Would you please remind me to bring my rain gear and stow it in the office?”

  “Yes, sir.” Maggie glanced out as puddles began to form on the tarmac. “I guess I won’t be flying out today.”

  Wesley shook his head, tiny droplets raining down like diamonds on his shoulders. “We’re supposed to be socked in for most of the afternoon.”

  Maggie swallowed hard against the knot of emotions cluttering her throat, her fingers itching to smooth the rivets of water sliding down Wesley’s face. Maybe a night on the town, meeting new people was just what she needed to put these silly notions she was having about Wesley in prospective.

  “Captain Hicks?”

  He turned to her, his expression gentle as if the rain had washed away all the cares he normally carried, leaving in its wake a face she liked altogether too much. “Yes, Miss Daniels?”

  “I’d like to request the rest of the afternoon off, sir.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  Maggie had to keep herself from squirming under his appraisal. Yes, a night on the town was just what she needed. “A friend of mine from flight school flew in right before the storm hit. I’d like to catch up.”

  “Another WASP?” Wesley glanced around her before focusing on the only other woman in the room. “Wow, this place is getting to be a regular hive of activity.”

  Maggie pressed her lips together. The man was no Bob Hope, but he certainly knew how to make her laugh.

  Whatever amusement died when Wesley leaned close, his voice dropping off to a whisper. “You’ve flown more flights in the last three weeks than most of these guys have in months. You need some rest after that many hours in the air. Go. Take the afternoon off.” He stared at her for a long moment. “That’s an order.”

  Her heart revved up like a P-51 on takeoff. Maggie raised her hand in a perfect salute. “Thank you, sir.”

  “And Ace?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have a good time.”

  11

  Maggie took one look in the mirror and smiled. Petite polka dots danced like bright stars on a sky of navy blue across the bodice and skirt of the dress. Black gabardine pumps graced her feet, making her slender legs look even longer. Reaching up to straighten the sailor collar, she noticed how her hair glimmered red-gold against the white background. “What do you think, Merrilee?”

  “You look lovely, dear,” her aunt answered, holding up another outfit for Maggie. “But then you are one of the prettiest girls in Cobb County when you’re not covered in engine oil.”

  Maggie laughed, taking the dress. “But I like working on engines.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” Merrilee sat down, glancing over the selection of gloves and handbags the sales lady had chosen for them. “It was very nice of Wesley to give you the afternoon off.”

  “I’d only wished I’d known that Donna was meeting up with Bill to get her ring sized.” She hung the dress on the peg then turned to shut the door. “Then I have wasted your afternoon.”

  “I’m so glad you did. I’ve had a lovely time shopping with you.” Her aunt’s voice was muffled by the dressing room door. “Though I must admit, I was a bit surprised you actually wanted to look for a new dress.”

  “I don’t mind shopping occasionally,” Maggie said, glancing at her flushed cheeks in the mirror, giving her appearance a patriotic theme of red, white and blue.

  The truth was she didn’t have anything to wear except overalls and jumpers, and that wouldn’t do, not for her night out at the USO. The fact that Wesley might see her in something other than an oil stained bib played a tiny part in her sudden desire to go shopping. She was a woman after all, and she wanted to look her best.

  Maggie unbuttoned the cloth buttons and shucked the dress off. This was a silly notion, trying to get Wesley to notice her. The only thing he needed to be aware of was her abilities in the air.

  But it didn’t mean she couldn’t ask questions. Her aunt was sure to know something about the man. Maggie collected the dress off the floor and hung it on the hanger. “Merrilee?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Has Wesley ever told you anything about his family?” Maggie stepped into a green seersucker and slipped one arm then another into the long sleeves.

  “Not much really,” Merrilee started, then stopped. The dressing room grew quiet as if her aunt was thinking through the question before answering. “He’s got a grandfather that he stayed with awhile after his mother died. He lived somewhere in England before moving to Washington DC.”

  No mention of his sister. Maggie laid her forearms across the top of the dressing room door and peeked over. “What about his dad?”

  “He told me once that his father was a doughboy during the Great War. That’s how his parents met; he was stationed near the village where she lived. Once they married, she moved to
the states to stay with his family. Wesley’s father died in the influenza outbreak a few months before Wesley turned two.”

  A great sadness fell over Maggie. What had it been like for him, growing up without his parent’s love and encouragement? She couldn’t begin to imagine it. “Does he talk about his grandfather much?”

  “No, and when he does, it’s about when he was still just a boy. I get the feeling something’s going on there, but he’s never given me a clue as to what it is,” Merrilee said, digging into her purse and pulling out a roll of lifesavers. She tore into the paper and extracted a cherry red candy. “I don’t think he’s seen him in a long time.”

  “But Washington isn’t that far away.”

  Merrilee glanced up at her. “It can feel like forever when something is standing in the way.”

  So, Wesley was all alone. Maggie sighed.

  “I know,” Merrilee said. “Families can be a pain sometimes.”

  Maggie turned her head to stare at Merrilee. It wasn’t in her aunt’s good nature to say such a negative thing about any of her kinfolk. Well, maybe one. “Uncle James giving you fits again?”

  Merrilee‘s lips puckered, as if the candy in her mouth had suddenly turned sour. “He’s been watching that tree line alongside of the kitchen ever since he caught you and Wesley coming out of the woods. It’s like he’s a soldier guarding his post or something.”

  “What if he does? No judge in the county is going to break Granddaddy’s will because you’ve went out on a limb to help people.”

  “I don’t know about that. James has always had his eye on the homestead.” Merrilee stared off, her usually lively blue eyes shadowed in doubts. “He was as surprised as I was that Daddy left it to me, especially after John left me.”

  Merrilee never talked about John Davenport, at least not that Maggie could ever remember. “What was he like? Uncle John, I mean?”

  “I don’t remember much.” She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Claire’s only ten, Merrilee.”

  A rosy hue stained her aunt’s cheeks and she ducked her head. “Well, yes.”

  Maggie plugged ahead. “Did you love him?”

  A faraway smile touched Merrilee’s lips, as if reaching back in her memories to a time and place when she was young, when dreams still had a chance to come true, before her heart had been broken. “Very much.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I’m not sure,” Merrilee said. “I had skipped school that day, and John was working a field on the outer edges of our homestead. He looked so tall and strong out there, chopping that cotton. My heart almost beat out of my chest.” Merrilee blushed a deeper shade of pink. “But he wasn’t just nice to look at. He was good and decent and caring. It wasn’t hard to lose my heart to him.”

  “What happened?”

  “You remember how your granddaddy was. I didn’t even tell him that I was married until he had John arrested for kidnapping me.”

  “Aunt Merrilee!”

  “It was foolish of me,” Merrilee answered, looking quite ashamed of herself. “But I was very young, barely seventeen, and I had never gone against Daddy before.”

  “Granddaddy didn’t like him?”

  “He liked John good enough as long as he turned a good crop and was making money for him. But Daddy thought I should have married someone in his social circle, like a doctor or a lawyer. He even pushed Bob Carson at me as a suitable husband.” Merrilee shook her head. “Daddy thought I had settled for a farmer.”

  Maggie didn’t understand the problem, seeing how her grandfather was a farmer himself. But then she’d only known him as the kindly old man who always had a quarter for her to spend in town. “What did you do?”

  “What do you mean, what did I do?” Merrilee asked, pulling on a pair of gloves with a bit more force than necessary. “I moved out to the small parcel of land John was sharecropping for Daddy and tended the fields with my husband.” She studied the stretched fingers of her left hand as if imagining the ring her husband had once given her for better or for worse. “Our house wasn’t much, just a couple of rooms. But it was home.”

  She’s still in love with him. Maggie wasn’t sure how she knew that, but there was no doubt in her mind. Merrilee still harbored strong emotions for John Davenport, even after he’d left her to fend for herself all those long years ago. “How did you end up back at Granddaddy’s?”

  “The crops washed away. Daddy called in his loan on us, and John refused to ask Daddy for an extension.”

  Maggie scoffed. “Stubborn men.”

  Merrilee gave her a sad little nod. “John decided the best way to pay Daddy back was to enlist in the Civilian Conservation Corps. As he told me, it was steady work with a steady check. We decided I would stay in our place, giving Daddy as much of John’s paycheck while I held down the farm.” The expression in her eyes softened. “But then I found out I was expecting.”

  “Daddy couldn’t bear the thought of his grandchild being born in a sharecropper’s house. So, he offered me a deal--I could come home and take care of the main house, and he’d make sure that me and my child would always have a place to live.” Merrilee snorted. “Of course, that was before I had Claire.”

  Maggie smiled. “Granddaddy figured you’d have a boy.”

  “You know me.” Merrilee chuckled. “I had to be ornery.”

  “What happened with Uncle John?”

  “I sent him dozens of letters, but I never heard anything back.” Merrilee looked at her, her expression begging for understanding. “Not that I didn’t expected anything, mind you. He traveled all over the place, and I was never sure where he’d be from one day to the next.” Her aunt dropped her gaze to her lap, her fingers busily picking at some unseen lint on her dress. “Then right before Claire was born, a lawyer from Atlanta showed up with some papers. John had filed for a divorce.” Merrilee made a sad little sigh. “I guess marriage was just too hard for him.”

  Maggie flinched. It must have been difficult for John, to know what his wife had given up, to realize he couldn’t give her the life she had once known. He couldn’t have been much of a man, abandoning Merrilee when she was pregnant with his child. What would drive a man to miss out on knowing his own child? Did he have any idea the opportunity he has given up by not knowing Claire, the joy she brought to everyone in her world?

  Something didn’t feel right here, not when Maggie weighted the character of the man Merrilee had described against his actions.

  Did John Davenport even know he had a child with Merrilee?

  The idea bothered her. Maggie took a breath, the question poised at her lips, then paused to study her aunt. Yes, Merrilee wore her usual smile, but the glow that generally lit her features was gone, dimmed by a sorrow that Maggie had never recognized before today. If Maggie had questions, they would have to be answered by someone else.

  But who? She’d never heard anyone in the family ever talk about John Davenport. A divorce would have been a horrific scandal to live down for a family as widely known as the Daniels, especially to a man stuck in a bygone era as her grandfather. In his mind, Merrilee would be a fallen woman, what with a broken marriage and raising Claire on her own.

  If Merrilee couldn’t make a marriage work, what makes me think--with all my dreams of flying--I could manage any better? Which was why she had to guard her feelings until she was firmly settled into her career.

  “It’s like drawing with crayons, Claire Bear.” Maggie took a tissue from the box and wiped off the patriotic red staining her cousin’s face from nose to chin. “You’ve got to color between the lines.”

  “Good advice, Georgia,” Donna handed her a tissue in return. Maggie glanced in the mirror and noticed her own feeble attempts at lipstick weren’t much better.

  “I’ll have to remember that when I am old enough to go to dances.” Claire loaded up a brush with baby blue eye shadow.

  “Well, little lady, you’ll be there
before you know it.” Maggie laughed, gently pulling on Claire’s unruly pigtail. “Enjoy being a kid while you can.”

  Claire’s gaze dropped to the lace doily draped across her aunt’s vanity, her mouth quirked into a sad little smirk. “I guess.”

  Maggie exchanged a worried look with Donna. Something was troubling her little cousin. Maggie tugged Claire on to her lap, cuddling her small body against hers, breathing in the fresh scent of Ivory Soap. “What’s wrong, squirt?”

  Claire burrowed deeper into Maggie’s neck. “Nothing.”

  Maggie dropped a kiss into her soft hair. “You can tell me, Claire Bear.”

  A sob racked Claire’s body. A lump formed in Maggie’s throat as she spent the next few minutes rocking her younger cousin, holding her close. Whatever the problem was, it was too big for Claire’s small shoulders.

  “You feel like telling me about it now?” Maggie asked once her cousin had cried herself out.

  With a hiccup, the little girl lifted her head. “At school, Miss Phillips.” Claire glanced at Donna. “She’s my teacher. Well, she asked what are our families are doing to help out in the war, and I told everyone how Momma takes care of a lot of people who work at the bomber plant.”

  Maggie nodded, not sure why that would upset her cousin. “And that’s a good thing for your mother to do.”

  “Yes, it is.” Claire sniffed. “But then Bradley Tucker said Momma wouldn’t be doing it much longer ’cause Uncle James was going to take our house away from us.”

  Now the kids were talking about Uncle James’s nonsense! Maggie hugged Claire close. “You know that’s not going to happen, don’t you?”

  “But Uncle James told Momma that he would take away our house right after he caught you sneaking out of the woods with Captain Wesley.”

  Maggie refused to meet Donna’s gaze studying her in the mirror. Instead, she put her hands on Claire’s shoulders and gently pushed her back so that she could get a good look at her. “You know better than to listen in on other people’s conversations.”