Jack’s eyebrow arched.
She glanced away, thoroughly flustered. Fran could hear the blended voices of the women chatting in the front of the building over the silence that ensued in the back of the room. She studied the toes of Jack’s shoes wondering how long it took him to polish them to such a glossy sheen. She glanced down at the old ratty ones she slipped on this morning and wished her pants were longer.
“Fran,” Jack said, his voice low and gentle. “Look at me.” His hand cupped her chin tilting it up. His serious eyes sought hers. “You’re lovely.”
She started to shake her head, but his fingers locked it in place.
“Yes. You. Are,” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter what clothes you wear or whether you’ve fixed your hair in some elaborate style, or even if you have makeup on. There is something about you I’m drawn to, and I would like to get to know you better.”
“But Amy . . .”
“Shh.” He shook his head back and forth as if he were reprimanding a naughty child. “I’m not interested in Amy. Don’t get me wrong. I think Amy is a nice girl, but it’s not Amy I’m attracted to. When Red invited me to come home with him, I jumped at the chance. Red shared so many things with me about you and Amy that I wanted to meet you both. He used to read me the humorous parts of the letters you sent him, and I thought you were smart and funny and one hell of a girl. Your letters captured my attention.”
She cleared her throat and blinked back the moisture behind her eyelids. “Jack . . .”
He put a finger over her lips. “Just listen. I know how Red feels about you, and I know I should walk away. Christ. He’s my flying partner.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to meet you girls to put a face to your names. I didn’t expect to be set back on my heels when you appeared at the top of the stairs last night, but I was and . . .”
“Fran, dear,” Mrs. Carroll called, craning her neck to see what was keeping her.
“We need to go before the women start gabbing about us. I think you should leave. I don’t want Amy to find out you were here.”
“Don’t you think that would appear a little strange if I walked out now?”
She stepped back. “We’re coming,” she called to Mrs. Carroll.
The morning dragged on for Fran. She continued to mull over Jack’s words which made her head ache worse. She tried to ignore his presence as he worked alongside the ladies rolling and wrapping bandages, but it was difficult to do. Within the first hour he managed to charm all the women there—mostly contemporaries of her mother. Red had been correct when he said girls fell all over him, obviously the older ones did as well. She might have been disgusted if they hadn’t all been her mother’s age or if she didn’t feel like doing the same.
“Well, that’s it for this morning.” Mrs. Carroll slapped the last rolled package of gauze into the now full container.
Jack took the box and sealed it shut. “Thank you, ladies, for a most enjoyable morning.”
His smile, Fran thought, would have melted the hardest of hearts. Hers was already a puddle. Jack’s ready wit had kept the women in stitches all morning and won her grudging admiration. And, if it weren’t for Red and Amy or the fact that she had no desire to have another person with whom she cared about serving in the military, she’d have handed her melting mess of a heart to him on a silver platter. But as it was, she had enough loved ones to worry about, and she just couldn’t bare one more. Because if she lost him . . . she shuddered, well, she couldn’t even think about it.
“So, my dear ladies,” Jack addressed the group. “I’m starving. Can anyone recommend a good place to have lunch?”
All the women volunteered to fix him a meal if he’d come home with them.
“Thank you, ladies.” He flashed them a heart-stopping smile. “But I couldn’t possibly put you out after you’ve worked so hard this morning. I passed The Barge Grille this morning on my way here. Is the food any good? I’d just like a burger with fries and maybe a malt to top it off.”
“Ray’s Diner,” several of the women piped up.
“Ray’s, it is then. Maybe one of you would be so kind as to give me the directions.”
The women glanced from Jack to Fran then one of them winked at her. “Go on, Fran. Why don’t you show this nice young man where the diner is? Maybe he’ll buy you lunch for your trouble.”
Cornered, Fran scrambled for an excuse to refuse without sounding churlish. She glanced down at the clothes she wore and grimaced. “I’m not exactly dressed . . .”
“You’re fine,” Mrs. Carroll interjected. “It’s only Ray’s, after all. I’m sure you don’t want Lieutenant McOmber here to think we’re inhospitable to newcomers, especially those wearing the uniform.”
Jack gave Fran a winning grin, daring her to refuse again.
Fran knew when to give up. “Of course not.” She avoided glancing at Jack. “Just let me go to the restroom to freshen up then I’ll be ready to leave.”
All the women beamed at her as if she just announced she’d won a million dollars and planned to share it with them.
Once in the ladies’ room, Fran yanked the band from around her ponytail and ran her fingers through the strands to loosen them. Digging into her purse, she grabbed her brush and attempted to put her hair in order. She found an old tube of lipstick hidden in the bottom of her bag and applied a light coat, then smacked her lips. Well, it wasn’t much, but considering what she had to work with, it was the best she could do. Straightening her shoulders, she grabbed her bag and went in search of Jack.
Most of the women were still lingering around when she reappeared. Jack, of course, stood in the middle of the ladies, no doubt entertaining them with his wit.
“Ah, there she is.” He beamed at her. “Ready?”
She nodded.
Jack turned to the women. “It’s been my pleasure to work with you this morning. I’d like to thank you on behalf of all my brothers-in-arms for your efforts here today.” He stuck out his arm to Fran. “Shall we?”
She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, a warm glow of pleasure spread through her. “See you next month, ladies.”
“Bye, Fran. Bye, Jack.” The women’s voices responded in unison, followed by a collective sigh.
“Thank you,” Jack said, once they exited the door.
“For what?” she lightly quipped.
“For having lunch with me.”
“I didn’t see where I had much choice.” Then feeling ungracious, she said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like, I’m ungrateful.”
“Aren’t you?” His eyes probed hers.
She shrugged, staring off into the distance not saying anything.
He pursed his lips and paused a minute before speaking. “I know you’re worried about Amy and Red and my being in the military, but what do you say we just take it one moment at a time. Keep it simple. Right now, all I want to do is have lunch, and I would like some company. I hate to eat alone. Okay?”
She nodded at him. “Okay.”
He flashed his cocky grin. “Well then. Lead on.”
Chapter 6
Ray’s diner, a local town favorite, served good-old American food. Although its plain and well-worn décor left something to be desired, the fare was par to none when it came to old-fashioned hamburgers and fries. Their malts were the best.
Only a couple of people sat at the lunch counter when they entered. Jack led her to a back-corner booth. After waiting for her to be seated, he slid into the bench across from her.
They had no sooner taken their seats when a waitress arrived at the table. She handed them menus. “What can I get you two to drink?” She removed a pencil from behind her ear and flipped a page on the pad she held in her hand.
Jack responded in a friendly tone, and she lit up like a Christmas tree.
Fran rolled her eyes in disgust.
“What can I get you, love?” the waitress crooned.
Jack glanced over at her. “Fran?”
“I’ll have an Orange Crush.”
“And I’ll have a Coca Cola.”
The waitress scribbled on her pad. “I’ll be right back with your drinks. My name’s Beth Ann should you need anything else.” She winked at Jack before sashaying off.
Fran felt ridiculously annoyed by the woman’s behavior.
“What’s the frown for?”
“I’m not frowning.”
“You’re not? Could have fooled me,” he commented as if the answer were obvious.
She shook her head at him. “It must be very tough to be your girlfriend with every female from crib to grave drooling over you.”
“Couldn’t say. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend.”
She blinked at that remark. He couldn’t be telling her the truth. “Oh, come on now . . .” She swatted at his arm resting on the table. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe a guy like you hasn’t had a real girlfriend.”
“Not until now.”
She ignored that remark or at least pretended to. “You’re kidding, right? You want me to believe . . . you’re what, twenty-six? . . . and there’s been no girl in your past? That’s asking an awful lot.”
“That’s not exactly what I said.”
“Aha.” She smirked triumphantly.
“I’m not saying I haven’t dated. I have, but no one seriously. No one I’d call my girl.”
Fran found his words more than a little hard to swallow. “But why? It can’t be from lack of opportunity.”
“You’d laugh in my face if I admitted to that. In truth, at first, I felt too young. I didn’t want to get involved with someone who would tie me down. I planned to become a pilot and didn’t want anything or anyone preventing me from reaching my goal. Later, well, my career became my focus, and my job made it difficult to spend time with anyone for very long. I’ve been re-stationed three times in the same number of years.”
“And in all that time there hasn’t been someone special?”
His expression sobered. “Not until now.” He grasped her hand across the table and linked his fingers with hers. “I’ve been waiting to find you.”
Jack’s intensity made her nervous. Her gut sensed he meant what he said. For some inexplicable reason, he was drawn to her. And she’d be a liar if she said the feeling wasn’t mutual. The approaching waitress with drinks in hand drew Fran’s attention from his gaze. She tugged her fingers free of his and slid them into her lap.
“Here you go, sugar.” Beth Ann served Jack first then placed Fran’s soda pop on the table in front of her without glancing in her direction. “Now . . .” She rested one hip against the booth, her large breast at Jack’s eye level. “Just what would you like, honey bunch?”
Jack gave Fran a conspiratorial grin followed by a slight wink then ordered. “I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries.”
Fran seconded that and felt a sense of relief when the waitress backed away from Jack and went to place the order. Why she cared what the woman was so blatantly offering Jack, she couldn’t say. Liar.
Jack reached across the table for her hand.
She yanked hers back.
For whatever reason, there seemed to be a special connection between them. She could pretend to deny it, but it wouldn’t change the fact. The question was did she really want to do anything about it? Did she want to risk her friendship with Amy, or her heart? Did she have a choice? She had a sinking feeling she didn’t. It was as though the hand of fate stepped in.
“So.” Jack paused. “Tell me everything about yourself. What do you like to do when you’re not working?”
“That shouldn’t take long. I’m from Albion, remember?”
“Aw, Frannie girl, you’re from more than this life has to hold.
Was this guy for real or was he just toying with her? She’d never met anyone like him before. Men like Jack weren’t usually interested in her. They were usually drawn to bubbly girls like Amy, and to be honest, Fran had no idea how to deal with him. “Why?” she asked.
“Why what?”
“Why me?” Feeling awkward, she cleared her throat. “Why are you interested in me? You don’t even know me.”
“But I do.”
“You’re nuts, you know that.”
Jack threw back his head and guffawed at her remarks, then said with an amused expression, “See.”
She shook her head confused. She was having lunch with a crazy person. “No, I don’t see. I think you’re making fun of me.”
Jack’s grin disappeared and his expression became serious. “I’d never do that to you. What I was trying to say is you’re real. You never hesitate to give me back my due. If you only knew how refreshing that is. Not to sound vain, but you don’t seem impressed by my appearance or my career, and unfortunately from my experience that’s rare.”
She wasn’t sure what to respond to first or if she even wanted to have such a serious talk. Jack’s words had become uncomfortably intense.
“Ice skating,” she blurted out in an attempt to return to a lighter topic.
“What?” Jack’s confusion evident in his tone.
“You asked what I like to do when I’m not working. I like to ice skate in the winter,” she repeated, feeling both foolish and awkward for shying away from their earlier conversation but forged on anyway. “It’s my favorite thing to do except for maybe curling up with a good book.”
Jack’s eyes lit with understanding, and his lips turned up in a crinkle of a smile before responding. “I’d have to say my favorite thing is flying. I never get tired of it. There’s nothing like it. There’s a feeling of freedom that I can’t truly put into words, but when I’m not flying I do like to bury my nose in a good book as well.”
She flashed him a look of gratitude. “Who are some of your favorite authors?”
“I’d have to say Thoreau, maybe Steinbeck and La’Mour. What’s not to love about a good Western. You?”
“I like Steinbeck, but his stories always break my heart. I’m afraid Thoreau makes my brain hurt, too much to think about, and I’m not into Westerns. I enjoy Hemingway and Fitzgerald. I’m currently reading The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. It’s excellent.”
“Tell me about your job. Do you like it? If I recall right, Red said you worked as a secretary in a factory.”
“Yes. The Novelty Shoppe. It’s the three-story red brick building at the end of our street. It’s not a big factory. I work in the office with another secretary.”
“Do you enjoy your work or would you rather be doing something else?”
“The job’s fine. I like the people I work with, and it’s close to home.”
“I think I hear a but there. What would you like to do if you could choose to do anything?”
She sighed. “I don’t know really. I’d like to do something that would allow me to travel and see more of the world if I could get up the courage. You?”
“Exactly what I’m doing, except maybe without the war.”
The mention of the war brought Fran back to reality—the reality that men were dying every day. She’d lost her dad to asthma when she was fourteen, and both her brother and brother-in-law were currently fighting overseas. She couldn’t afford to love anyone else involved in the war. Her heart just wouldn’t stand for it. Thankfully, the waitress brought their food, interrupting her thoughts and limiting their conversation. They talked about their childhoods and the communities in which they lived while they ate, and Fran slowly began to relax. Although she’d dated some, mostly
they were double dates set up by Amy. She’d always been a little nervous around men like Jack. Men who exuded charm, wit and an indefinable maleness that set her on edge, but although Jack had all those qualities and then some, she’d begun to feel at home with him.
Jack interrupted her thoughts. “What do you have planned for this afternoon?”
“Absolutely nothing for once. I plan to take a book and sit out on the back porch with my feet up. Just relax. Maybe catch a nap.”
“Would you like some company?”
“I don’t think that would be wise.”
Jack studied her for a moment. His lips pursed in concentration. “The porch? Or the nap?”
“Both.”
“Why not?”
“Because it would upset Amy and Red.”
“I thought I explained how I felt about Amy. And unless I’m way off base, your feelings for Red are more like a friend or brother. I’m not sure what the problem is.”
“You know exactly what the problem is. Amy is my best friend, and Red and you fly together, neither of us needs to cause a rift with them.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“That I think it’s best we don’t see each other unless we are all together.”
Jack frowned. His jaw squared. “Not acceptable.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“You have no choice.”
“Wanna bet?”
Fran opened her mouth to refute him then snapped it shut. Grabbing her purse, she ducked low in the bench. “Darn,” she muttered, as she slid below the table.
“What the . . .”
“Shh. Get up. Now. Amy and Red just came in. I don’t want them to see us together. Hurry up and go meet them while I sneak out,” she whispered, feeling like the worst sort of idiot.
“Are you nuts?”
She smashed her fist down on his toe.
“Ow, damn it. That hurt.”
“Oh, shut up. Get going, so I can follow behind you to the restroom.”
Cherished Wings (Return to the Home Front Book 1) Page 4
