Hearts in Flight

by Patty Smith Hall

  Her dad pulled her into his arm in a tight embrace. The situation must be serious for Daddy to hold her like this twice in one day. “I know you want to find him, baby girl.”

  “I love him, Daddy,” she whispered against his solid shoulder. “I love him so much.”

  “Then you need to think about what Wesley would want right now, Magpie.”

  Daddy was right. The last thing Wesley would want her to do is go traipsing after him, putting them both into danger. But she could help him. Maggie stepped back and sniffed. “We need to get Pops up to the house.”

  “Good idea, sweetheart.” He patted her cheek. “Once we get him settled, I’ll go in with the firemen and find your young man.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  Her father bent down beside the old man, linking his arm under his shoulder. “Do you think you can walk a bit, Pops?”

  “Maybe a little.” Pops drew up his knees and sat up slowly. “If I have some help.”

  Sirens ebbed and flowed in the distance. Help was on the way. Maggie swiped at the moisture on her cheeks before squatting beside Pops. “I’m going to get you checked out. We can’t have Wesley get back and find you laid out sick, now can we?”

  The old man shook his head. “No, we can’t.”

  While her dad helped Pops to his feet, Edie pulled at Maggie’s sleeve. “When Wesley went into the woods, he was thinking of you.”

  “He was,” she whispered a bit breathless.

  Edie gave her a mournful smile. “He said he wouldn’t be long but that he’d find you once he got back.”

  Maggie closed her eyes. Is this my fate, Lord, to find Wesley then lose him?

  I know the plans I have for you, plans for good and not evil.

  She drew in a shaky breath, the verse running through her heart. God’s plans weren’t as small as a simple flying career. No, they included Wesley. She loved him. Her heart never stood a chance against the one man who understood her heart’s desire, even while he worried about her. She could trust him with her dreams all the days of her life, God willing.

  The sirens grew louder. A checkerboard of red and white lights lit up the yard beside Merrilee’s. It took everything inside her not to run into the woods in search of the man who had captured her heart, but she held herself in check.

  A peace she didn’t understand invaded Maggie’s heart as she eyed the woods one last time. She turned to Edie. “Let’s get Pops up to the house. The ambulance will be here soon.”

  The second explosion hit with as much force as the first. Wesley lifted his head slightly, just enough to get a clear shot of the scene below him. Copper and metal pieces laid scattered about like falling leaves in the autumn. The sour stench of mash hung in the air like a rain-filled cloud.

  Through a veil of smoke, Jimbo carefully positioned another stick of the explosive under his target, the last of James Daniels’ stills. The sizzle of the fuse was all the warning Wesley had to duck for cover again.

  BOOM!

  The still fractured apart, raining down on the earth below like mortar fire at the front line. A pained grunt followed and Wesley looked up. Beside the shed to the right lay Jimbo clutching his knee.

  Wesley brought himself up on all fours and rose slowly, testing the ground beneath him. Once sure of his footing, he started down the embankment to where Jimbo laid. Blood soaked Jimbo’s pants from right above the knee by the time Wesley reached him. Without thinking, he unlatched his belt, whipped it from around his waist and dropped down beside Jimbo.

  “Why don’t you let me die?” Jimbo gritted out through his teeth.

  “I never leave a man behind.” Wesley slid the belt under his thigh and threaded the buckle. He hesitated. Condolences were never enough, not when the loss is someone you love, but they were something to say. “I’m sorry about your wife and baby.”

  Jimbo’s mouth pulled into a pained line. “Yeah. Me too.”

  Wesley yanked the leather strap tight, eliciting a short groan from Jimbo. He tied off the belt then leaned forward to check out the jagged wound. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were married?”

  “It happened before you came here.” Jimbo leaned back against the trunk of a nearby oak. “And we weren’t together for long, just five months.”

  “She must have been something,” Wesley said, pushing the bloody material up Jimbo’s calf to his knee.

  “My Annie was something.” He shook his head. Wesley noticed a faint smile as he continued. “We were so excited when we found out she were expecting. She was always trying out baby names on me, seeing which name I thought would be best for our boy.”

  “A boy, huh?”

  “That’s what Annie said. I didn’t tell her this but I sort of wanted a little girl, just like her momma,” Jimbo said, his eyes glossing over whether from the pain or the sorrow, Wesley couldn’t be sure. “It doesn’t matter. Annie’s gone.”

  Wesley examined the ragged skin around the cut, noting the bleeding had ceased. He couldn’t imagine what Jimbo had lived through, didn’t want to think about the loss. Glancing around at the evidence of Jimbo’s reaction to his family’s poisonings, Wesley had no doubts that the man had probably tried everything he could to save his young family.

  “That had to be tough,” Wesley said quietly.

  Jimbo blew out a breath through his nostrils. “It hurt like the devil. The only time I don’t feel anything is when I’m drinking.”

  “How does James Daniels fit into all this?”

  Jimbo gave a humorless laugh. “He found me in the front hall one night just like you and Maggie did. Only he didn’t try to sober me up like you two.” He shook his head. “He offered me bootleg whiskey if I’d do him certain favors.”

  The hair on the back of Wesley’s neck stood at attention. “What kind of favors?”

  Jimbo’s gaze dropped to his lap. “I’m the one who put that note in his niece’s footlocker her first day at the plant. But I swear, Captain, I didn’t know what he had wrote in that note.”

  Wesley balled his hands up into tight fist, the urge to deck the man almost overwhelming, but it wouldn’t give him the answers he needed. “You’ve never been a big admirer of Maggie’s. Why should I believe you?”

  “You’re right. I don’t like the idea of any woman in the cockpit. But Maggie, she’s a-okay, Captain. She didn’t deserve that note.” Jimbo shifted his weight as if trying to find a more comfortable position before finally giving up. “I told James that after the other girl pilot went down.”

  “I bet James didn’t like that.”

  “He just laughed. Told me it was all a big joke and that I shouldn’t worry about it. Then he gave me another shoebox with a bottle in it. That was the last bottle I took from him.”

  Which answered the question of how Merrilee’s receipt got in that shoebox. It was a setup. If Maggie’s aunt could be linked to the still, then James would have his case against her. And if he made money while he waited, the better for him.

  The muffed sounds of footsteps against the leaf-laden earth rumbled softly, multiple flickers of light hop scotched through the trees, becoming steady beams as the sounds grew closer. Help would be here soon.

  But he had one more question before he turned Jimbo over to the authorities. “Did you have anything to do with Donna’s plane getting the wrong fuel?”

  Jimbo shook his head. “But there are a few boys at the plant that James is paying off with shine. More than likely, they had something to do with the fuel exchange.”

  “Can you give me their names?”

  With an affirming nod of Jimbo’s head, Wesley knew the threat to Maggie had passed.

  24

  The smell of smoke and brunt leaves clung to Wesley, his clothes sticking to him from a mixture of perspiration and corn mash. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and scrubbed the square across the nape of his neck then gave up in defeat.

  With Jimbo securely loaded, the ambulance driver drove the vehicle slowly acr
oss Merrilee’s back yard, the red light flickering like the flames that burned the last remains of James’ still. Jimbo would need a few days of rest, but the attendant had assured Wesley that his pilot would be okay.

  Wesley had endured the questions from the fire department and the police. Now he’d grown impatience, scanning the lingering crowd for the two faces he’d longed to see since the first explosion had blasted through his world.

  “They’re up at the house, son.” Maggie’s father called out from his post next to Merrilee. The police was still questioning her about the day’s events. “In all the excitement this afternoon, your grandfather had a spell.”

  Wesley’s heart tightened. “Is he okay?”

  “Oh, yes,” Mr. Daniels assured him. “Nothing that a day in bed won’t put to rights.”

  Thank you, Lord! He’d forgotten how a family could truly be a blessing. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate you watching out for Pops.”

  “You need to be thanking my daughter, Captain. She’s the one who’s been by his side all afternoon.”

  Wesley’s heart sung with joy at the thought of Maggie taking care of his grandfather. “If you’ll excuse me then, sir.”

  The man nodded, the smile he flashed Wesley giving him a hope for a future he hadn’t thought possible just a few hours ago. Wesley hopped over sections of water hoses slithering like snakes in the grass as he worked his way through the maze of people and equipment in Merrilee’s backyard.

  He slipped in the back door and bounded up the steps to his grandfather’s room. At the top of the stairs, Edie sat at the window, looking at the activity going on in the backyard.

  His footfall on the landing caused Edie to turn. She stood and hurried toward him. “Thank heavens. We were so worried about you.”

  Wesley walked toward his grandfather’s room. “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s resting right now, but he wants to see you.”

  “Is Maggie in there with him.” Wesley asked, lifting his fist and knocking lightly on Pops’ door.

  “Pops sent her out for some fresh air.” Edie nodded toward the stairwell. “You want me to tell her that you’re looking for her?”

  Knowing Maggie, he’d find her sitting in her favorite spot on the front porch swing. Wesley grabbed the door handle. “That’s okay. I’m just going to check on him.”

  He opened the door and slipped inside. Two of the three blackout curtains had already been drawn, leaving enough evening light for Wesley to see Merrilee had left her homey touch in this room too.

  Wesley walked to the bedside. In a single bed pushed against the wall lay their patient. Pops’ snowy hair blended into the white pillow until they appeared to be one. His translucent skin stretched over the bony protrusions of his weathered face and hands, displaying a road map of deep purple pathways across his neck and arms. His mouth gapped open, his respirations a soft snore against the wall-papered walls.

  When had his grandfather gotten so old? But Wesley knew the answer. Losing Beth had done a number on the both of them, but it was time to move forward. He understood that now.

  “Wesley?”

  He sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Hi Pops.”

  His grandfather’s frightened gaze traveled over him quickly, looking for what, Wesley wasn’t sure. Once the old man was satisfied, he relaxed into his pillow. “Did you catch Jimbo?”

  Wesley smiled. Leave it to Pops to cut to the chase. “Yes sir, but he didn’t end up being the bad guy.” He explained how James had used the loss of Jimbo’s wife and child to blackmail him. “He’s going to be in the hospital for the next few days then after that, we’ll see.”

  Pops drew in a deep breath. “At least, everybody’s safe now.”

  “Yeah, at least for now.” Wesley picked at a loose thread from the sheet. “Pops?”

  “Yes, boy?”

  He swallowed against the sudden knot in his throat as he bowed over their joined hands. “I’m sorry for the way I acted when Beth died. I let you down.”

  “You’ve never done anything but make me proud, sweet boy.” Pops’ fingers tenderly plowed a path through his hair. “I’m the one who let you down.”

  Wesley lifted his head. Pops thought he’d let him down? “No. You’ve always been there for me.”

  Pops shook his head, his hair sticking out at several different angles. “I knew how stubborn your sister could be when she got an idea in her head. She made her own choices, and there was nothing either of us could have done to change her mind. And yet I blamed you when she died.”

  “You were hurting. You’d lost your granddaughter.”

  “And I pushed you away in the process. It felt like I lost you both.” The old man tightened his grip on Wesley’s hand. “I‘m so sorry.”

  “Me, too.” Wesley drew in a deep breath, the oppressive weight he’d carried for months slowly slipping from him. Though Beth would always be a part of their lives, he and Pops would be okay. They had each other.

  His grandfather’s grip on Wesley hand relaxed. “I’m a bit tired now. Guess all that yard word wore me out.”

  “Why don’t you take a little nap then? Merrilee won’t have supper on the table in a couple of hours.”

  “Good idea,” Pops whispered, his eyelids drooping shut. He struggle to open his eyes. “Would you tell Maggie she doesn’t need to come back up and sit with me?”

  Wesley stood and tucked the thin blanket around Pops as the man snuggled deeper into his pillow. “You don’t worry, Pops. I’ll take care of Maggie.”

  “I know you will,” he answered with a soft smile. “You love her.”

  Wesley nodded, waiting as the old man’s breathing became slow and steady in sleep. Pops always had a way of knowing exactly what was on Wesley’s heart.

  Maggie pushed the swing into motion then drew her knee back up to her chest. It had been hours since the last explosion, and while her father had told her Wesley had safe, she wouldn’t believe it until she could see him for herself.

  The mournful melody of the swing’s chains matched her mood. Shadows of the waning evening fell across the porch, making puzzle patterns of light and darkness. The faint smell of her Uncle James’ brew hung in the breeze, much like the accusations against him.

  It was bad enough her uncle tried to take Merrilee’s house from her, and Maggie wasn’t surprised to hear James had been behind that threatening note, not when he’d been bullying people for as far back as she could remember. But to poison innocent children, to be accused of downing. Donna’s plane crash was even out of her scope of reality.

  Maggie pressed her face into the palms of her hands. Well, he wasn’t her problem anymore. She could only hope that when the police caught him, they threw him under the jail.

  “Maggie?”

  She jerked her head up. In the doorway stood Wesley, his shirt dirty and slashed down the sleeves while red clay clung to the knees in his jean. A sheen of perspiration and dirt covered his face and matted his hair.

  He looked beautiful.

  Dropping her feet to the floor, Maggie sat up, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat. “It took you long enough.”

  His face softened into a cautious smile. The floor boards moaned beneath him as he walked to stand in front of her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to scare you.”

  Maggie stared up at him, determined to memorize everything about him--the little scar about his right brow, the laugh lines around his mouth--before realizing it would take a lifetime. “I know.”

  She took the hand Wesley held out to her and stood, letting him pull her into his embrace. She linked her arms around his neck and held him tight, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Here, in Wesley’s arms, she’d discovered a new dream, one filled with love and children and a life shared with this wonderful man.

  “Are you okay?”

  Maggie tilted her head back, the mixture of love and concern sparkling in his blue eyes causing her heart to beat out of control. She cleared her
throat. “I wasn’t the one caught in the explosion. Are you okay?”

  “Never better.”

  “Are you sure?” Her words were a whisper on an unsteady breath.

  As if to prove it, he bent his head to hers. His face blurred as he gently brushed a kiss on the tip of her nose, his breath fanning out across her cheek. She tilted her head back, her eyelids fluttering shut as he pressed his lips to hers.

  Maggie felt as if she were soaring through the stratosphere, stars bursting into light behind her closed eyelids. She tightened her arms around his neck and held on for dear life, secure that Wesley would keep her safe.

  He lifted his head, but held her close, resting his cheek against her head. “There are going to be times I’ll drive you crazy with worrying, sweetheart. But I promise that whatever dreams God lays upon your heart, I won’t stand in the way of making them come true.”

  Maggie hesitated for one brief moment. “Dreams change, you know.”

  “They do?” His breath ruffled her hair, sending a light shiver down her spine.

  She leaned back, her heart ready to burst at the look of love and respect shining in Wesley’s face. God had taken her pitiful dreams and made them so much more than she ever thought possible. A Godly man who loved her, dreams and all. “When you were out there and I didn’t know if you were okay, I realized you’re a part of my dreams now.”

  Wesley lightly pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, Maggie.”

  “I love you too,” She gave him a tremulous smile.

  “Will you marry me, Margaret Rose?”

  “Yes,” she answered, tightening her arms around him to bring his beloved face close to hers. “I’d love to be your wife.”

  As he pulled her close for another kiss, a bubble of happiness popped inside of her, flowing through every cell of her being.

  Thank you, Lord, for dreaming a bigger dream than I ever had for myself.