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Wings Page 24

by Danielle Steel


  “Anyway, I want you to keep the money,” Pat said firmly.

  “That's silly.”

  “Why is he paying you so much?” he asked with a worried frown. “He's not making you do anything dishonest, is he, Cass? Or too dangerous?”

  “No more dangerous than any other test pilot who works for him, and probably less so. He's got a big investment in me. I think he just thinks I'm useful to the company, because I'm a woman, and all the publicity… the speed records I've set are important for his planes.” And then she looked at him, wondering if it was too soon to tell him. But she wanted to tell him now. She wanted to sign the contract as soon as she went back. She had thought about it a lot in the last few days, in spite of Chris, and she knew what she wanted.

  “He wants me to do a world tour, Dad,” she said quietly, and for a moment, there was a long silence while he absorbed it.

  “What kind of world tour? There's a war on, you know.”

  “I know. He said we'd have to work around it. But he thinks it could be done safely, if we plan our route carefully.”

  “So did George Putnam,” her father said grimly. He had just lost one child, he didn't want to lose another. “There's no way to do a world tour safely, Cass, war or no. There are too many variables, too many dangers. Your engines could fail. You could navigate wrong. You could hit a storm. A million unexpected things could happen.”

  “But less so in one of his planes, and if I took the right man with me.”

  “Did you have anyone in mind?” He thought instantly of Nick, but he couldn't go now.

  Cassie nodded. “I thought maybe Billy.” Pat hesitated while he thought about it, and then he nodded.

  “He's good,” he agreed. “But he's young,” and then he reconsidered. “Maybe you have to be. No one older than you kids would be crazy enough to want to do it.” He almost smiled then, and Cass suddenly felt better. It was almost as though he had approved. And she wanted him to. She wanted to do it with his blessing. “Is that why they're paying you so much?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “They'd pay me even more for the world tour.” She didn't even dare tell him how much. A hundred and fifty thousand would sound like the world to him, and it was. And she didn't want him to think she was doing it out of greed, because she wasn't. “And there would be bonuses, and other contracts resulting from it, and endorsements. It's a pretty good deal,” she explained modestly. But even talking about those amounts of money scared her.

  “It's not a good deal if you're dead,” Pat said bluntly, and she nodded. “You'd better think about it carefully, Cassandra Maureen. It's not a game. You'll take your life in your hands if you do it.”

  “What do you think I should do, Dad?” She was begging for his approval and he knew it.

  “I just don't know,” he said, and then he closed his eyes, thinking about it. He opened them again, and reached for her hands and held them. “You have to do what you need to do, Cass. Whatever it is your mind and heart tell you. I can't stand between you and a great future. But if you get hurt, I'll never forgive myself… or Desmond Williams. I'd like you to stay here, and never risk anything again… particularly after what just happened to Chris. But that's not right. You have to follow your heart. I said as much to Nick when he decided to go to England. You're young, it could be a great thing if you make it. And a terrible heartbreak for us, if you don't.” He looked at her long and hard, not sure what else he should say to her. It was her decision in the end. She'd been right to go to Los Angeles the year before, but he just didn't know now.

  “I'd like to do it, Daddy,” she said quietly, and he nodded.

  “At your age, I would have too. It would have been the greatest opportunity in my life, if anyone had offered it. But they didn't,” He smiled, and looked more like himself again. “You're a lucky girl, Cass. That man has given you a great chance to become someone very important. It's a gift… but a dangerous one. I hope he knows what he's doing.”

  “So do I, Daddy. But I trust him. He's too smart to take chances. He believes totally in what he's doing.”

  “When does he want you to go?” Pat asked cautiously.

  “Not for another year. He wants to plan it perfectly.”

  “I like that,” Pit said. “Well, think about it, and let me know what you decide. I wouldn't tell your mother for a while, if you decide to do it.” She nodded, and a little while later they turned out the lights and went to bed, but she was immensely relieved to have talked to him, and even more so that he hadn't gotten angry. He seemed to have finally accepted who she was, and what she was doing. He'd come a long way since he'd forbidden her to fly or take lessons. The memory of that made her smile now.

  She talked to Billy about it the next day, and he went wild when she told him she had suggested him as her navigator and co-pilot.

  “You want me?” he shrieked and then threw his arms around her neck and kissed her. “Zowie!!!!”

  “Would you do it?”

  “Are you kidding? When do we leave? I'll pack now.”

  “Relax,” she laughed at him, “not for another year. July 2, 1941, to be exact. He wants to do it on the anniversary of the day Earhart went down. It's a little spooky but he likes that.” It had to do with publicity, and in that, she trusted Desmond's judgment.

  “Why so long?” Billy sounded disappointed.

  “He wants to plan it carefully, build it up, test the right plane. He's thinking about our using the Starlifter, which would be tremendous publicity for it, for distance and endurance.” That was really what it was all about, but if they made it, their lives would never be the same again. And she already knew that there was fifty thousand dollars in it for Billy, and she told him.

  “I could sure have a good time with that, couldn't I?” But like Cassie, it wasn't the money that appealed to him, it was the excitement and the challenge. It was the same thing that appealed to Desmond, and had even sparked a flicker of excitement in her father. “Well, let me know what you do.” And like her father, he suspected that she had already made the decision. She had, but she was trying it on for size, thinking about it, trying to be sure she wanted to make the commitment. Working for Desmond for another year was one thing, that was an easy choice, but agreeing to do the world tour was entirely different, and she knew it. She knew how great the risks were, and the benefits, if she made it. Imagine what Earhart would have been if she had succeeded. It was hard to imagine her legend being even stronger than it was, but it would have been. If only…

  Billy left on a quick hop to Cleveland that afternoon, and her father was still at home, so Cassie volunteered to stick around and close the office. She put some papers away for them, and then she put on a familiar pair of overalls and went out to gas some planes. She had nothing else to do, and it would save Billy some work in the morning.

  She had just finished the last of them, and put away some tools, when she saw a small plane coming in on the main runway. The little plane didn't seem to hesitate. It came right in, and then taxied toward the far hangar. She wondered if it was a regular, it had to be. She didn't know all of them anymore. He seemed to know exactly where to go, and what to do. She watched him for a minute, but the sun was in her eyes. And then she saw him. It couldn't be… it couldn't… but it was. He had come home to them. It was Nick. And she was crying as she ran toward him. She flew into his arms and he held her there, careful of her bandaged arm. It brought it all back to be there with him, the sorrow and the pain, and the shock of losing Chris mingled with the pleasure of seeing Nick now. He kissed her long and hard, and she felt safe and at peace suddenly, knowing he was home now.

  “They let me go as soon as I heard,” he explained when they came up for air. “But I had a hell of a time getting to New York. I had to fly out of Lisbon, I got in last night, and I chartered this crate in New York this morning. I never thought I'd make it. The damn thing barely got off the ground in New Jersey.”

  “I'm so glad you're here.” She hugged h
im again, so relieved to see him. And he looked incredibly handsome in his RAF uniform. But also very worried.

  “How's your dad?”

  “Not great,” she said honestly. “He'll be glad to see you. I'll drive you over now. You can stay with us.” And then she almost choked on the words, “You can have Chris's room… or mine… I'll sleep on the couch.” Billy was living in Nick's old shack, and it would have been close quarters with both of them there.

  “I can sleep on the floor,” he grinned. “It's not a problem. The British aren't known for their comfortable barracks. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since last September.”

  “When are you coming home?” she asked, as she drove him to her parents’ house.

  “When it's over.” But it wouldn't be over soon. Now that France had fallen three weeks before, Hitler had control of an even larger chunk of Europe. And the British had their hands full keeping him from trying to take what was left of the French fleet in North Africa. Their problems were far from over.

  Nick inquired about her arm, and she admitted it hurt, but was getting better.

  They had arrived at the house by then, and her father was sitting in a chair on the porch looking doleful.

  “Cot a cot for a soldier, Ace?” Nick said quietly as he stepped onto the porch and walked swiftly to his old friend and embraced him. The two men cried, sharing each other's pain, and Cassie left them alone to talk and fix them some dinner. Her mother had gone to bed with a terrible headache. She was still taking it very hard, understandably, he had been her baby, and so young. He was only twenty.

  Cassie made them both sandwiches and poured them beer, and her mother had made a big salad in case they wanted it. It was enough. None of them were very hungry. And as they ate, Nick told them about what was happening in Europe. He had heard tales of the fall of France three weeks before, and the heartbreaking fall of Paris. The Germans were everywhere, and the British were afraid Hitler would try to take them next, and there was some fear that he might succeed, although no one said it.

  “Are they letting you fly missions yet?” Pat asked, smiling at the memories of their days together at the end of the last war.

  “They're too smart for that, Ace. They know I'm over the hill.”

  “Not at your age. Give 'em time. When things get hot for them, they're going to throw your behind into a fighter and kiss you good-bye in a hot minute.”

  “I hope not.” It made Cassie angry listening to them. They all loved war so much, and as far as they were concerned, it was all right to take chances, as long as they were the ones who did it.

  She left them talking on the porch late that night. She would have liked to talk to Nick too, but she knew her father needed him more. And she had time. Nick was there for three days. She would see him in the morning.

  Her father finally went to his office the next day, and he was pleased to find everything in good order. Billy had taken good care of the planes. Cassie had taken good care of his desk, and his pilots were all standing by waiting for directions. It did him good to come back, and halfway through the morning, Cassie was surprised when Desmond called her. He asked if it was okay to talk, and she stepped in and closed the door to her father's office.

  “It's fine. You're nice to call.”

  “I've been worried about you, Cass. But I didn't want to intrude at a time like this. How's the arm?”

  “I'll be fine.” She didn't want to worry him by telling him how bad it really was, but so far it was healing nicely. “Is everything all right there?” she asked, feeling guilty for staying away for so long. She had been gone almost a week now, but he had told her not to rush back. She apologized again, and he told her to stay as long as she wanted.

  “How are your parents?”

  “Not great. But my dad came to work today. I think it'll do him good, especially once someone makes him mad about something. It'll take his mind off his troubles.” He laughed at what she said, and asked if she'd given the world tour any more thought, and she smiled and said she had. “I talked to my father about it.”

  “I imagine he was thrilled to hear about it right now. Your timing wasn't exactly the best, Miss O'Malley.” He almost groaned at the thought of her telling him now. He could just imagine what he must have said. But she surprised him.

  “Actually, he wasn't all that opposed to it, after we talked about it for a while. I think he's worried about a lot of things, but he was surprisingly reasonable. I think he sees it as a great opportunity for me. He told me I had to make up my own mind.”

  “And have you?” he asked, holding his breath. He had been frantic about her since she left. And he was surprised at how much he missed her. And he was even more worried she might not come back to LA or renew her contract after her brother's death. She was an important part of his life now.

  “Almost,” she told him tantalizingly. “I just want to think it out while I'm here. Ill tell you the minute I get back, Desmond, I promise.”

  “I can't stand the suspense.” And he meant it. It was driving him crazy.

  “I think you'll find the answer worth waiting for,” she teased and he grinned. He liked the way she sounded. And he couldn't help thinking of how she looked, as he talked to her. She had even looked beautiful at the funeral with her ravaged face and heavily bandaged arm, but it seemed wrong to think so.

  “Promises, promises. Hurry up and come home, I miss you.”

  “I miss you too.” She said it as she would have to a friend, as she would have to Chris, or to Billy. She missed talking to him at the crazy hours when they were both awake, and about the things they both cared about, his airplanes.

  “I'll see you soon, Cass.”

  “Take care. Thanks for calling.” She hung up and went back outside to her father and Nick. Her father asked her who had called and she told him Desmond Williams.

  “What did he want?” Nick asked, looking annoyed.

  ‘To talk to me,” she said coolly. She didn't like the way Nick had asked the question. He was acting as though he owned her. And for a man who hadn't even bothered to write in three months, that was pushing his luck, or so she thought.

  “What about?” Nick persisted.

  “Business,” she said bluntly and changed the subject.

  Fat smiled then and walked away. He could see a storm gathering, and he could only smile. She was definitely an O'Malley.

  “How's the arm?” Nick asked when they were alone again.

  “So-so,” she said honestly. “It's starting to hurt like hell, which they claim is a good sign.” She shrugged and looked up at him then, and invited him to take a walk with her. He agreed and they strolled to the far edges of the airport.

  “What are you doing these days, Cass?” He sounded gentler than he had a few minutes before, and her heart melted again the minute he came near her, and put an arm around her.

  “The same stuff. Flying planes, pushing limits. My contract is up this week. They've offered me a new one.”

  “Same terms?” he asked bluntly.

  “Better.” So was she.

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “I think so.”

  And then Nick asked a question she hadn't expected. “Are you in love with him, Cass?” He looked worried as he asked, and she smiled at the bluntness of the question.

  “Desmond? Of course not. We're friends, but that's all. He's a very lonely person.”

  “So am I, in England.” But he didn't sound sorry for himself as he said it. He sounded angry about Desmond, and jealous.

  “Apparently not lonely enough to be bothered writing to me,” she said tartly. She hated not hearing from him, especially since he wrote to her father sometimes, and to Billy.

  “You know how I feel about that. There's no point stringing you along, or our getting tied up with each other, Cass. There's no future in it for you.”

  “I still don't see why not. Unless you don't love me. That I could understand. This I can't. This is crazy.” />
  “It's very simple. I could be dead next week.”

  “So could I. So what, we're fliers. I'm willing to take my chances on you. Are you willing to take them on me?”

  “That's not the point and you know it. If I do get lucky and survive, which would be lucky for me, and maybe not so lucky for you, then what? You live in a shack and starve for the rest of your life? Congratulations to the big winner. I'm a flier, Cass. I'm never going to have a hill of beans. I never minded till now. I never paid attention, just like Billy isn't. He's having a good time. So was I. I still am. Then what? It's no future for you, Cass. I won't do that. And your father would kill me if I let you do that to yourself.”

  “He may kill you sooner if you don't wind up with me. He thinks we're both crazy. Me for loving you, and you for running.”

  “Maybe he's right. Who knows, but that's the way I see it.”

  “And what if I save some money?” It was an interesting question.

  “Good for you. Enjoy it. I hope you do. You're practically a movie star these days. Every time I see a newsreel from home now, you're in it more than Hitler.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Well, it's true. Williams sure knows what he's doing.

  So what are you asking me? If you get rich thanks to him, am I willing to live off of you? The answer is no, if that's the question.”

  “You don't make anything easy, do you?” She was beginning to get annoyed. He made everything impossible. Heads I win, tails you lose. He had loaded the dice, and she just couldn't win a round, and she was getting sick of it. “Are you saying that if you'd saved some money over these past few years, then you'd come home and marry me. But since you didn't, if I make some money, that's not okay. Is that it?”

  “You've got it,” he said smugly. He had decided not to ruin her life, and he was determined to do everything he had to to stick by it. “I don't live off women.”

  “You don't make much sense either. You're the only man I've ever met who's more stubborn than my father. And he's at least beginning to make sense in his old age. Just how long do I have to wait with you?” She said impatiently.

 

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