Love Me Before Dawn

by Lindsay McKenna

  He looked over at her, his gray eyes filled with frustration. Almost instantly, his eyes grew lighter, a new tenderness gleaming in their depths. He picked up her hand, drawing it to his mouth and kissing it. “You know something, lady? I love the hell out of you.”

  *

  Senator Stockwell strode triumphantly into the restaurant. A pleased look wreathed his face as he sat down with his aides and staffers. The morning had been a resounding success. He luxuriated in the fact that he had spoken to all the major networks, as well as most of the major newspaper reporters. He rubbed his hands together, grinning over at Gary Owens, his chief aide.

  “Well done, Gary. I think we poked enough holes into Browning’s balloons for one day. Just think, the winds aloft were too strong. Makes you wonder if that paper plane of a bomber will ever make it off the ground.” He chuckled. “Or, I wonder if they’ll ground that damned white whale every time the winds are a little too strong. Sure doesn’t sound like much of a deterrent to war, does it?”

  Owens smiled politely. “No, it doesn’t, sir. But I think we got all those hungry reporters to swallow the gist of our argument.”

  “By God,” Stockman said, “this calls for a celebration!”

  *

  Tess awoke with a jerk, quickly sitting up in bed. Pitch blackness surrounded her and she shakily wiped a thin film of perspiration off her forehead. Her breathing was shallow and rapid; as if she were frightened. The thick mass of her unbound hair spilled across her shoulders as she pulled up her knees to rest her head against them. The nightmare…Tess shivered outwardly. She didn’t want to glance at the luminescent dials on the clock that sat beside their bed. How many hours were left until Shep might be torn from her existence? Stop it! Stop it, she reprimanded herself silently.

  “Tess?”

  She lifted her head, turning toward Shep. Her heart flowered with intense love. His voice was thick with sleep and tinged with concern. Tess felt the warmth of his strong, reassuring hand upon her back and reacted instinctively to his caress.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  Shep forced his eyes open, willing himself awake. He rolled on his side after glancing at the clock. “Come here,” he urged huskily, pulling her back down into his arms. She settled against him, a puzzle piece that fit perfectly with his body.

  “It’s almost time to get up anyway,” he said, glorying in the fullness of her lips as he kissed her.

  Tess gradually broke away from his kiss. “How long?”

  “Forty-five minutes.” A careless grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “Why? Got something in mind?” he teased, sliding his hand behind her hip and pulling her daringly against him, letting her know that he was aroused simply by her being near him.

  Tess couldn’t help but smile in return. She was frightened. More frightened than at any time she could recall in her life. And yet Shep had slept well throughout the night before the test flight. It puzzled Tess but she accepted his lack of concern as a sign that all would go well when he was at the controls of the B-1, in less than seven hours.

  Shep must have seen her become more sober because he rose on one arm above her, keeping her protectively close to him. “You woke with a start,” he murmured, gently tracing the curve of her brow and cheek. “More bad dreams about the flight?”

  Tess nodded, responding to his featherlike touch, a large part of her concern melting beneath his wandering fingers.

  “That’s normal. Dave Faulkner’s wife never sleeps the night before a first test flight,” he said. “So you see, you’re one step ahead of Cathy in that department. Feel better knowing that?”

  Tess nodded, pressing herself against Shep, reveling in the feeling of his hard-planed body against the soft curves of her own. “Love me,” she whispered throatily, kissing him hungrily, seeking the strength of his mouth.

  Shep groaned, embracing her tightly, capturing her eager lips in a fiery, branding kiss that was meant to take her breath away. Finally he dragged his mouth from her trembling lips, staring down at her in awe. “I love you,” he said huskily, “more than life. You’re a part of me, Tess. A very large part,” he continued softly, cupping her face, holding her blue gaze. “And I want to love you so thoroughly that we’ll be one from now until forever. Whatever that means. …”

  Tess uttered a small cry, throwing her arms around his broad, incredibly strong shoulders. Desire was woven in the tapestry of love, making the simple act of physical union a symbol of what she was experiencing in her heart. Pressing against him, she claimed his mouth. She became mindless, reacting to his adoring hands as they skimmed and tantalized each curve, valley, and secret place of her body. His mouth settled against the hard, yearning peaks of her breasts, and she uttered a cry of pleasure, arching unconsciously like a tautly strung bow against his hardened maleness.

  Each touch, each sublime featherlike caress was building her need to become one with him. She trembled visibly as he moved his hand down the length of her long torso, across her abdomen, lingering momentarily on the silken triangle of hair before parting her thighs. A flame burned deep in her lower body, a fire out of control as he stroked those dark, moist recesses. She was a harp to be played, to be strung tautly, and brought to a full melodic crescendo beneath his coaxing, masterful fingers. Her breath came in short, shallow sobs. Mindlessly she gripped his shoulders, begging him to complete the union, wanting only the oneness between them that nothing could ever destroy. Within seconds she felt him thrust deeply into the welcoming confines of her eager body.

  White-hot pleasure plunged deeply within her, shocking her. Slowly he brought her into rhythm with himself and she responded, a cry of joy bubbling up from her throat as the final, explosive gift was shared equally between them. She sank her head against the dark carpet of hair on his chest, her nostrils flared, drinking in great drafts of air, unable to do anything but cling weakly to him. Shep pulled her damp form against him, rolling on his side.

  He could feel the pounding of her heart. A small trickle of sweat had gathered between her breasts and he leaned down, kissing it away, reveling in the heated warmth of her flesh. Nuzzling against the fullness of her breasts, he held her tightly, content as never before. At that moment he was unable to give words to his emotions, so strong were they. Only by holding, touching, kissing her could he convey those silent feelings of his heart. They had loved before dawn, a dawn that would bring many changes in their lives. Shep ran his hand down her lovely body, wanting to tell Tess that she was safe and that there was no need to worry. On this dawn they had laid a new foundation; one that would last them a lifetime. He closed his eyes, feeling a good kind of tiredness that can come only from love freely given and taken. “I love you,” he whispered thickly. “Always and forever …”

  *

  Darkness grudgingly lifted its cloak from the Mojave Desert, a thin gray streak outlining the mountains on the distant horizon. Nothing stirred or moved out on the dry, arid earth except nocturnal feeders like rabbits and coyotes finding shelter against the coming daylight. The B-1 sat in solitary splendor out on the ramp, its loyal ground crew making final checks. There wasn’t a whisper of wind on December 23, 1974. Even the tumbleweeds were motionless as the men worked in quiet unison around the aircraft. The B-1 sat like a royal sentinel facing the awesome silence of the desert.

  The crew chief walked a hundred feet away from the bomber. Putting his hands on his hips, he gazed upward toward the cockpit. A gleam of satisfaction shone in his narrowed eyes as he studied the bomber. His chest filled with pride as he watched his crew finish the preparations for the test flight. Today was the day. He knew it. He could feel the tension running through his men. Glancing back at the eastern horizon, the crew chief saw the grayness of the dawn turning to pale pink behind the shadowed mountains in the distance. Nothing stirred Nothing moved. He scratched his head, mystified. It was as if the world were now holding its breath in anticipation. Even nature seemed subdued by the incredible beauty of the bomber that sat
there like a bound eagle straining to lift skyward once and for all. “Well,” he muttered to himself, “you’re going to get your chance today, honey.” He walked back toward the bomber, issuing final instructions to his men.

  All along the designated area which paralleled the runway the B-1 would roll down, television cameras were being positioned. The chilled desert air made the men work faster. News reporters from around the world chose their locations. Roll after roll of film was checked. Each reporter had two, three, or sometimes four cameras loaded with thirty-six-frame film. No reporter or television cameraman wanted to be caught without ample film in case the bomber ran into trouble. No, it was too big a story politically as well as dramatically to be caught without film or means of photographing the grisly results.

  Staffers from each congressional camp brushed off the dew-laden chairs in the grandstand which faced the airstrip that the B-1 would roar down. There was a polite distance between the two camps’ chairs. Microphones were being set up and tested by Rockwell people. Other members of the early morning crew made sure the red, white, and blue bunting was hung perfectly around the ceremonial box that would house the key officials from Rockwell and the Air Force. The pale wash of rose deepened in color along the horizon and the grayness that had hovered over the hushed desert began to fade gradually.

  Shep finished tying the nylon laces on his black flight boots and straightened up. He shut the locker after pulling a bag which contained his helmet and oxygen mask from the top compartment. Today was the day. He knew it.

  His hair was still dark and shining from the recent shower, his skin scraped free of the darkness of his beard. His body was still warm and tingling from making love to Tess an hour earlier. A new feeling of happiness lingered in him.

  A slight smile touched Shep’s mouth as he headed out of the locker room to the briefing room. As he walked down the long, deserted hall, the sound of his boots echoed against the tiled surface. Today he was going to take an untried plane skyward. A bomber that had never tested her wings against the currents of the wind as she knifed through the air. He would help guide her upward and be there to experience every sensation. Shep was an anomaly to other test pilots. They called the plane “it.” Rarely did Shep hear them refer to the bomber as “her.” He had always felt that jets were like women—sensitive, fragile, touchy, beautiful, and deadly if not handled with respect. A glimmer of excitement shone in his gray eyes as he swung around the corner and entered through a door whose sign read OFF LIMITS.

  The face of every engineer, test pilot, designer, and ground crew member in the room was grim. They all sat around the table, their individual notebooks open, pencils and pens ready to scribble down last-mimite notations. Voices were hushed, respectful. Charlie Starling raised his head, surveying the three men who would be riding in the B-1 within a few short hours.

  “Okay, any questions?”

  The three men shook their heads.

  “Play it safe today,” he instructed. “We got good winds aloft from the looks of the upper air charts. You get any warning lights on, you get back on the ground. I know you don’t normally get panicky about a little light blinking, but this morning it’s different. We don’t need to have an in-flight emergency with those damn vulture politicians waiting to see us burn. Remember, keep the landing gear down and locked throughout the flight. The gear is supposed to be able to go up and down, but today is not the day to find out.” He shook his head. “Can you imagine if you brought the landing gear up and then couldn’t get it back down? Stockwell would be jumping up and down in the grandstands clapping his hands. Gentlemen, we don’t need the B-1 to belly in on foam over at Edwards on the first flight. Get the plane up and get it down. Next time we’ll raise and lower the landing gear when we don’t have the eyes and ears of the world watching our every move.”

  Dave Faulkner, the Rockwell pilot, smiled. His blue eyes gleamed with mischief. “Don’t worry, Charlie. We’ll get it up and down. Won’t we, guys?”

  Shep and Pete nodded simultaneously.

  Faulkner rose, stretching his six-foot frame. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road. I, for one, have got Christmas shopping to do.”

  Shep stood, grinning. “Thank God I’m not the only one.”

  The whole room broke into subdued laughter. Shep walked around the table, picking up the preflight book which would be used in the ground check of the B-1 before they took off. He glanced over at Faulkner.

  “I’ll meet you over at the plane in a minute,” he said

  “Fine.”

  Shep opened the door and found at least thirty news reporters waiting. Patiently he worked his way through the crowd, leaving them quickly behind. The halls were no longer empty, but teeming with life. Excitement thrummed through the busy corridors. He felt it in his body, in his pulse. He looked at his watch—only one and a half hours to go.

  Tess turned when the door to the small room opened. She was with several other key Rockwell executives finishing off an early morning breakfast. Her lips parted, heart beating strongly as she saw Shep enter. He looked incredibly handsome in the flight suit, that devil-may-care glint in his gray eyes as he approached her. Shep greeted the other executives and then gave his attention to her. A careless smile played across his mouth as he studied her. “Got a few minutes?” he asked, taking her by the arm.

  His touch was like a brand, reminding her of the exquisite love they had shared only hours earlier. “Always,” she murmured, following him into another room through an adjoining door.

  The room was quiet. The picture window faced east where the sun was just starting to rise. Tess stepped over to the window, pulling the opaque drapes apart.

  “It’s a lovely day,” she said.

  Shep stood behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder. “Yes, it is,” he agreed quietly. His fingers tightened and he forced her to turn around. His eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze traveled to her mouth, and he felt his body tighten with desire for her once again. Finally he met her wide blue eyes.

  “Listen, in a few minutes I’ve got to go,” he began quietly, placing his arms on her shoulders. “Will you be all right here?”

  Tess nodded. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “That’s my lady,” he whispered, leaning down and placing a light kiss on her lips. He drew back, sensing her fear and her will to master it. There was a hint of darkness deep in her eyes. He offered her an encouraging smile. “You’re a pretty brave person, you know that? I love you for your courage, Tess.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes and her lips trembled. She was at a loss for words, her throat closed with sudden emotion. Reaching up, she caressed his cheek. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have flying that plane right now,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

  He tilted his head, a question in his gray eyes.

  She dashed a tear away. “It’s you,” she explained. “Your touch. You have a sensitivity that defies description, darling. You’ve given me my freedom. You’ve allowed me to come into my own. You’ll do the same thing for the B-1 when you sit at her controls. That plane will respond to you the same way. I know she will.” Tess shared a tender smile with him. “That bomber has the heart of a beautiful woman, and you have a way with women. I’m not really going to worry about you anymore. I know she’ll fly for you.”

  He whispered her name, crushing her in his arms. “God, how I love you, Tess,” he murmured brokenly, burying his head in the rich cascade of her hair.

  A new feeling of love went through Tess as she lay contentedly within his hard embrace. It was as though she had just made another major breakthrough in understanding him and his undying love of flying. Suddenly, that bomber sitting out there on the ramp was a living creature made of rare metals, pulsing electrical circuitry, her engines the throbbing heart of her sleek body. Somehow, Tess felt a kinship with the bomber. And she suspected that Shep shared her feeling that it was almost a living being. It was difficult to describe how she felt, but inwar
dly she knew that Shep understood exactly what she was saying.

  Finally he released her, holding her at arm’s length. “Listen,” he said huskily, “I have only one question for you, Tess. And I want the answer to it when I land at Edwards. Promise me you’ll give me your answer then?”

  She gave him a quizzical look, reacting to the intensity in his voice. “Why—of course. What is it?”

  Shep allowed a hint of a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth. His gray eyes were dark with passion. “Will you marry me?”

  Her heart leaped, beating erratically in her breast. Her lips parted, a small gasp escaping. Joy surged through her so strongly that she thought she might suffocate from happiness. His fingers tightened momentarily on her arms.

  “Don’t say anything right now,” he went on. “Just meet me back at Edwards. When I land and get done with the post-briefing, then you can give me your answer. I love you, lady.”

  His head descended and his mouth covered her lips in a soul-branding kiss. A small cry escaped her throat as she threw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. Happiness entwined with fear. She clung to him, breathless with wonder. Slowly Shep released her, his gray eyes glittering with barely held passion. “I’ll see you at Edwards,” he said, and left her standing alone, torn by conflicting emotions. Would it be the last kiss he would ever leave on her throbbing lips?

  Chapter 18

  THE SUN ROSE, CASTING ITS LONG FINGERS ACROSS THE desert floor. Palmdale basked in the golden flame of the cold morning. Nearly a hundred thousand people waited in quiet anticipation. Last-minute checks on cameras and film were completed. The Rockwell people sat back, their faces unreadable, as the last speech was given. Tess sat next to Dan Williams, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. To her left was Senator Diane Browning and her staffers. The Senator had delivered a rousing speech for the bomber. Stockwell and his group sat to her left, looking grim. They reminded Tess of a group of jackals waiting for the wounded beast to fall and die so that they could jump on the bleeding carcass.