Hearts in Flight

by Patty Smith Hall

  Maggie’s heart fluttered like a baby bird being tossed out of the nest. She may have faced danger before, but she didn’t have to the nerve to look up and see if he was teasing her. “How many girls have you used that line on, Captain?”

  “Lines aren’t my style.”

  “Really? That’s a first,” She said, snorting softly. “So what is your battle plan for winning a woman’s heart?”

  “Hadn’t really had the chance to implement one. I guess it depends on the girl. But every relationship needs honesty, a shared respect, and faithfulness to God and each other.” He paused for a second. “I’d want to protect her, make sure she knows she’ll always be safe with me.

  Protect her. Maggie swallowed against the knot forming in her throat. She didn’t know why his words bothered her so much. It wasn’t a surprise. Most men would feel the need to protect the woman they loved, but in aviation, nothing was for certain. Every time a pilot climbed into the cockpit could be her last. Was that a lesson Wesley had learned the hard way? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

  Maggie finally tilted her head back to look up at him. “What are you doing here in the first place?”

  “Someone I know said I could use a break. So I figured I’d come here and dance with a pretty girl or two.”

  She stiffened. “Then don’t let me stop you.”

  Wesley’s mouth tilted into a lopsided smile as he pulled her close. “You haven’t.”

  Resting her head against his shoulder, Maggie’s heart tapped out a thunderous beat beneath her breastbone as they danced in silence. She glanced at the line of girls waiting for a partner against the wall. Wesley Hicks could have any girl in this room, any girl in Atlanta if truth be told, but he’s dancing with me. The knowledge satisfied something uniquely feminine at her core.

  “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”

  She swallowed hard, slightly fearful of all the unfamiliar emotions clamoring inside her. “Just enjoying the music.”

  “Me too, Ace,” he answered, his cheek resting against her head, his breath a warm whisper against the back of her neck. He tightened his hold and Maggie sank further into his arms, closing her eyes to the crowd pressing against them and enjoying the feel of being held by Wesley.

  When the last note of the song echoed softly against the walls, they clung for just a moment before Maggie reluctantly moved out of his embrace. “Thank you.”

  “Maggie?”

  “Yes?”

  “You don’t have anything to prove tomorrow, at least not to anyone at the Bell.”

  Maggie turned. Wesley stood ramrod straight as if waiting for a general to pass, but his voice held a softness that revealed his concern. Apprehensive lines disturbed the smooth skin around his eyes and forehead. She tried to drum up her temper but found it silenced. Instead she found herself walking toward him, her hand reaching out until she touched the medals pinned to his shirt pocket.

  “You know I have something to prove,” she whispered. “Just like I’m betting that girl that you’re thinking of right now thought she had something to prove too.”

  Wesley’s eyes widened slightly, as if caught off guard, before narrowing in to a hard stare. “You’re right. Beth did think she had something to prove.”

  Her heart sunk. “Beth?”

  “My sister.”

  Maggie blinked. He had mentioned his sister once, back on her first day at the Bell. “Is she a pilot?”

  “Was, Maggie,” Wesley answered in a somber voice. “My sister was a pilot.”

  The truth poured down on Maggie like a cold rain in December. Wesley hadn’t lost just any girl over in England.

  He had lost his sister.

  13

  “Those hot dogs really hit the spot,” Wesley said, his arm resting across the back of the train seat he shared with Maggie. “I’d heard about the Varsity, but I hadn’t had the chance to get there.”

  “I’m still surprised you’ve been here for months and never been there,” Maggie replied, watching Wesley as patches of moonlight shone through the cabin window.

  “Now, that I know someone who shares my love for fried pies, we’ll have to go there more often,” Wesley answered, the humor in his voice sending ripples of awareness through her.

  She cleared the frog out of her throat. “You should try their ice cream. They’re not serving it now because of the shortages but their lemon cream is out of this world.”

  “Then we’ll have to make it a date. The day after the war ends, you and I will head down to the Varsity for ice cream.”

  Maggie smiled. She’d had no intentions of leaving the USO with Wesley tonight. Being around him, getting to know more about him could be dangerous to her heart. But learning about his sister, seeing the slump in his shoulders, the tight line of guilt slashed across his brow, she realized she couldn’t walk away.

  After Bill had assured her that he would see Donna and Edie home, Maggie and Wesley left the gym. She had automatically turned toward the train station, assuming that they would head for home, but Wesley hadn’t seemed to be in any hurry, taking her elbow and prompted her down a side street that led them deeper into downtown. They walked the streets for hours, talking as they went, eventually ending up at the Varsity. Over onion rings and orange shakes, they talked about almost everything.

  Everything, except his sister.

  Maggie snuggled into her seat, relishing the warmth of Wesley’s arm draped across her shoulders. He hadn’t spoken more about Beth and she hadn’t pushed it. He’d talk when he was ready, at least, that’s what her daddy always said.

  But she couldn’t help wondering. How had Wesley’s sister died?

  The steel wheels whined softly against the rails, the chug-a-chug of the train in perfect unison with the gentle rocking of the passenger car. A black inkiness hid the cotton fields and flop houses she knew lined the tracks same as they had since the Civil War. Maggie leaned her head against the window. Around here, everything changed at a snail’s pace.

  A few minutes later, the dim glow of lights in the station cast shadows throughout the passenger car. As the train whined to a stop, Wesley tightened his hold on her, folding her into his side as if protecting her from a fierce blow. Maggie wasn’t sure why she liked the way it made her feel, as if she was something infinitely precious that needed to be defended at all cost.

  But it was what she would have to give up in return that bothered her. Maggie retreated to her side of the bench seat. God had given her a dream and she wouldn’t let Him down.

  My dreams for you are greater.

  The words reverberated through her as the train gave a final lurch forward.

  “Here you go,” Wesley said, handing her the light wrap Merrilee had forced on her at the door.

  “Thanks.” She unfolded the knit shawl, her fingers trembling against the soft yard.

  “Here, let me help you with that.” He took the wrap once again, and spreading it out to its full length, wrapped it around her, his warm and reassuring hands coming to rest on her forearms.

  “Thank you,” she replied, closing her eyes. She shouldn’t savor the rumble of his voice against her back, enjoy the comfort of his arms enfolded her. The price was too dangerous to her dreams, her heart. God’s plan.

  He released her and stood back, allowing her room to pass. For a second, she hesitated, wished for another moment in his embrace. Instead, she stood and together, they quietly made their way to the door. When Wesley offered her his hand at the stairs, Maggie considered it for a minute then decided it would be a wiser choice to use the railing.

  “Would you like me to get a cab?”

  Maggie shook her head. No close confinement with this man. “It’s a nice night. And I don’t know about you but I could sure use a walk after those hot dogs.”

  Leaving the station behind, they turned down a dirt path toward Merrilee’s. A full moon lit groves and crevices of the wellworn trail, the clouds from earlier in the evening giving way to
star-filled skies. Crickets chirped softly in the distance, their song rising and falling in the night air. A light breeze carried the fragrant scent of fresh magnolias. The evening had all the makings of a Frank Capra movie, full of promise and romance.

  A bit disappointed, Maggie shoved the thought aside. “You’ve never told me what got you in the cockpit.”

  “Not exactly the question I was expecting,” he answered the rich timbre of his voice held a hint of surprise.

  “What can I say?” She chuckled softly. “I like to keep people on their toes.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” He lifted his head slightly, the moonlight revealing his soft smile. “I guess I could blame my grandfather. Pops heard the Wright Brothers speak in London when he was a young man. He decided then and there to learn how to fly. To this day, I’m not sure what he said to them to take him on as a student, but they did.”

  “You took after him?”

  “Oh, no. Pops has a passion for flying. He’s owned an airfield near Sheffield since before the Great War,” Wesley answered, his voice brimming with respect. “But me? I took up flying because I spent most of my summers with Pops, and the village didn’t offer much for a teenager to do.”

  “You almost sound like you don’t like it.”

  “Flying is okay,” he answered with a shrug. “There’s just other things that I’d rather be doing.”

  It was her turn to be surprised. “Like what?”

  Wesley turned to her, his golden hair shooting off sparks in the moonlight. “Designing planes for Bell.”

  “Is that why you didn’t go back to England?”

  He shook his head. “Bell had listed me as essential personal.”

  “Then how can you be a captain in the Air Transport Command?”

  “It’s part of a deal I made with Carson. I agreed to be stationed in Marietta for the duration of the war so that I can monitor and make alterations on the Fort when necessary.”

  Stars and Stripes, the man must be an engineering genius for Bell to go to all the trouble. Despite the cool night air, heat evaded her cheeks. “You must have thought I was an idiot, asking you for your resume that first day.”

  “No,” His voice turned playful. “I actually thought it was kind of cute.”

  A warm glow flowed through her. “Really?”

  “You just wanted to prove yourself.”

  She couldn’t deny he had a point. “I can’t image how someone as talented as you are in the cockpit wouldn’t want to fly for a living.”

  “Not everyone is like you, Ace.”

  She didn’t like that answer, particularly coming from him. “So how did you end up in the RAF?”

  The moon slipped behind a cloud, making the night grow a deeper shade of inky black. In the high limbs of trees, an owl hooted a dismal tune that echoed in the darkness.

  Maggie had given up any hope of an answer when Wesley finally spoke. “Pop refused to leave. He’d offered his air field to the government when the bombing first started.” Wesley drew in deep breath before continuing. “When he couldn’t find enough mechanics to keep the planes going, I decided I’d go over and help him out. Only way I could do that was to volunteer for the RAF.”

  “But you told me you saw some action.”

  “I did. When we got there, it was worse than what we had ever imaged. Pilots were getting mowed down by the dozens every single day. We were repairing equipment that would have made better scrap metal than weapons to ward off the Germans,” He answered, his voice coarse. “It wasn’t too long after I got there that I asked to be reassigned to a flying unit.”

  “And Beth?”

  “She signed up before I did.” In what little light there was, she could make out the bleak line of his mouth. “It makes sense, I guess. She went to live with Pops after our mother died so England had become her home.”

  Wesley turned to her, his eyes shadowed in the darkness and what she knew to be sorrow. “Beth was a cracker jack pilot. When the call went out for women to ferry planes, she was one of the first in line to sign up.”

  The respect with which he spoke of his sister caused a knot to form in Maggie’s chest. Tears swelled in the corners of her eyes, and she had to blinked hard to keep them at bay. “What happened to her?”

  Wesley lifted her hand, guiding it into the protective nook of his elbow. “Pop’s heart was giving him problem so Beth and I decided it was time to come home. I wanted to enlist in the Army Air Corp and Beth,” He hesitated. His fingers tightened around hers. “I think she’d seen enough and was ready to come home. She found us three seats on a transport plane home, but I couldn’t make it.” He released a hard, humorless chuckle. “We’d lost three pilots that morning and were short staffed. I volunteered to refuel and make another run.”

  Maggie turned and looked up at him. “That was extremely heroic of you.”

  “I was showing off, Maggie. So, Beth signed on for one last mission,” Wesley answered, ducking his head. He drew in a deep breath and sighed. “I was coming out of the debriefing room when I got a call from Beth’s commander. She got lost in the fog and had ended out over the sea.” His voice grew distant. “They found the wreckage a few days later.”

  Maggie bit down on her lower lip to keep the sob in her throat from escaping, her eyelids blinking in rapid succession. Wesley wouldn’t appreciate tears. Instead, she anchored herself against his arm and rested her head against his shoulder.

  They walked in silence. The moon burst out from behind a low cloud, lighting the milky white walkway to Merrilee’s house. The gravel shifted beneath Maggie, much like her world had shifted in the last few hours.

  Letting go of Wesley’s arm, she climbed the first step then turned, unsettled to find one stair had erased the differences in their heights, leaving her face to face with him. Tiny lines in the corners of his eyes begged to be touched and comforted. She took a breath, willing her fingers to be still.

  She lost the battle. Reaching out, she rested her hand against his cheek. His new growth of whiskers scratched the tender skin of her palm, sending a wave of tingles up her arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He took a step forward.

  Their noses gently bumped and her breath caught in her throat. She dropped her hand to his shoulder. There had to be a million reasons why she should push him away and run up the stairs and inside to the safety of her room, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of one.

  The shift was so slight, she barely caught it. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and dropped his hand to his side. “You’d better go inside.”

  The tender lilt in his voice caused her chest to almost hurt. She grabbed the edge of her wrap, gathering the ends tight across her breast between trembling fingers. “I need to rest up for tomorrow.”

  He took a step back. “We need you in tip top shape.”

  “Right.” An awkwardness she wasn’t accustom to threatened to overwhelm her. “Thank you for this evening. I had a great time.”

  The lopsided smile he gave her did crazy things to her heart. “Me too, Ace.”

  Maggie turned then and headed up the stairs. The handle of the screen door was in her hand before she realized she had forgotten to ask him one question. “Wesley?”

  “Yes?”

  “How’s your grandfather doing now?”

  “I don’t know.” His expression was unreadable but there was no mistaking the longing in his voice. “He hasn’t talked to me since the day of Beth’s funeral.”

  14

  Maggie stared up at the ceiling as soft sunlight peeked around the edges of the blackout drapes. She stretched, her muscles heavy. Sleep had not come easily, not when every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was the sadness etched in Wesley’s face.

  She’d been slightly shunned by the news that he hadn’t talked to his grandfather since Beth’s funeral. But why? In the blackness of the night, she had replayed their conversation repeatedly, looking for some clue to the answer. But
for the life of her, she couldn’t think of one. Wesley didn’t strike her as the type to abandon his family in their time of need. All she had to do was look at his treatment of her own family, and Eliza Beth and the tent city for her answer. What had caused the rift between Wesley and his grandfather?

  A dull ache filled her heart as she thought of him, of the loss of not only his sister but his relationship with Pops. She couldn’t phantom how she would have ever made it through Jackson’s death without her parents’ faith and guidance. She still suffered from his loss, probably always would. But Momma and Daddy made the burden of losing him so much easier to bear.

  Maggie pushed the covers back and sat up. When Wesley was ready to talk, she’d be there. She glanced at the bedside clock. Stars and stripes, seven o’clock already? She’d have to hurry if she wanted to put her plane through it’s paces before Charles showed up.

  Thirty minutes later, Maggie headed for the dining room in search of a strong cup of Joe. The familiar sight of her father sitting at the dinner table made her smile. “Daddy? What are you doing here?”

  He rose and enveloped her in his strong embrace. “Just thought I’d visit with my favorite daughter while her mother is at the market.”

  Maggie nestled against his shoulder, the familiar smell of hay and hard work like a balm to her tired soul. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m your only daughter.”

  “You’re still my favorite girl.” Her father tucked a curl behind her ear, then tugged her ear lobe just like he had since she was old enough to remember. “Something wrong, Magpie?”

  “I’m just glad you’re here.” She tightened her arms around him. “I love you and Momma, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Of course, we do. And we love you too, darling girl.”

  “I know, Daddy,” she said, leaning back to consider his lean face. Yes, losing Jackson had been hard on their family, but it had also made them stronger.

  “Are you sure there isn’t something wrong?”

  “No. It just hit me how much I miss you guys. That’s all.” Maggie extracted herself from her father’s arms and headed for the serving table. She poured herself a cup of coffee, then held the pot up. “Can I get you some coffee?”