Soaring Home (22 page)

A
week, a boat ride and a doctor visit later, Jack and Darcy headed south. After crossing the Straits of Mackinaw by ferry, they boarded the train to Pearlman. Darcy’s knee had only been severely strained, and though she had to use crutches, she’d soon return to normal life.

Yet nothing would ever be normal again. As each mile clicked past, Darcy’s elation turned to trepidation. By now everyone in Pearlman must be worried, wondering what had happened. Her parents. Would Papa accept Jack? And the investors. The Kensingtons. It just got worse and worse.

Jack, too, had grown silent, his brow creased.

“Try not to look so happy,” she teased.

Though he smiled briefly, he didn’t explain, and her tension increased. She gnawed on her fingernails. They’d spent so much of other people’s money with no hope of return. Every cent of the investment lay in ruins in the wilderness.

“I wish we could sneak into town without anyone noticing,” Darcy said after they left the Grand Rapids station.

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I don’t know how we’re going to repay everyone, but I’ll do my part. Do you think a story on the flight would sell?”

“Not likely, considering the way it ended.”

The thought of how much Blake and Beattie had spent brought tears to her eyes. She’d have to face them, but it wasn’t going to be pleasant. She could lose her dearest friend.

Jack patted her hand. “Don’t worry. Every investor knew the risk going in. The venture always had a very real chance of failure.”
Failure.
The word still stung. “But I’m sure they hoped for success.”

“Of course, but even if we’d won the prize, it wouldn’t have paid the whole bill.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. Fifty thousand dollars wasn’t enough? “How much did you lay out for this flight, Jack Hunter?”

He slouched a little lower in the seat. “I haven’t exactly totaled it up. It might be a little more than we had subscribed, though. We were supposed to make it back on the lectures.”

Darcy took in that dismal news as the farmland passed by the train window. “That’s a sorry way to start out married life.”

His hesitation told her everything she needed to know. “Second thoughts, Miss Shea?”

“Don’t think you can slip out of this that easily.”

He smiled weakly. “I hope your father feels the same way.”

Darcy wanted to reassure him, but she had no idea what Papa would say. As the train creaked and rattled along the rails, her thoughts dwelled on the future.

“What if…” She hesitated to say aloud that Papa might refuse. “What if we need to wait? Where will we live?”

“I’ll go back to Buffalo and reopen the flight school.”

“And I’ll finish my lessons and get my license.” That covered the next three months, but then what? She couldn’t stay with Perpetua forever.

The train left the Belvidere station. They were getting close. Darcy squeezed Jack’s hand, but she knew he couldn’t protect her from the storm to come.

“Oh, Jack, why don’t we go straight to Buffalo? I don’t want to see their disappointment. I don’t want to tell them we failed, that we wasted their money. Oh, dear. I hope they don’t know about the crash.”

“No chance of that, I’m afraid,” he said, “considering I sent a cable from Sault Ste. Marie.”

“Oh, no,” she groaned, burying her head in her hands.

He actually laughed.

“It’s not you they’re going to string up,” she cried. “I’m the one from Pearlman. I’m the one who said it could be done. I’m the one who got people to invest, who convinced my parents. Oh, dear.”

“Pearlman!” the conductor called out.

She felt ill. “I’m going to faint.”

“Take deep breaths,” Jack said, rubbing her back. “You’ll be fine.”

“No I won’t,” she sobbed. “I can’t face them. I can’t face Papa. Can’t we just go on to Buffalo?”

“Don’t have the money. I’m afraid you’re going to have to face the music.”

The train screeched to a halt, and ironically, Darcy heard music. Sousa, to be precise. She raised her head. “What’s that?”

Jack was grinning. “I never knew you were so yellow, Darcy Shea. All this time you had me convinced you could handle anything, but throw a few local townspeople your way, and you fall apart.”

“Wait. Listen.” Darcy leaned over Jack trying to see, but their car was too far back. “What’s going on?”

“You two getting off?” asked the conductor. “We don’t have all day.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jack, helping Darcy to her feet while he fetched her crutches. “We’re definitely getting off.”

No getting out of this. She’d have to apologize to every craftsman who helped rebuild the plane, every merchant who donated materials, to Blake, Beattie, her parents and a hundred other people. She’d repay every cent, if it took the rest of her life.

Jack helped her down the aisle and lifted her onto the platform. The music was louder. She raised her head and blinked at the astonishing sight before her.

Practically all of Pearlman stood on the platform clapping and hooting. The civic band blared an off-key Sousa march. A huge banner hung from the station and proclaimed CONGRATULATIONS ON RECORD FLIGHT. Red, white and blue bunting. Cakes, pies and bowls of punch. It looked like Independence Day.

Devlin took their photograph with a bright flash, and Darcy blinked, spots before her eyes. “What is all this?”

“Looks like a celebration,” said Jack.

“I know, but why?”

Beatrice rushed toward her, arms outstretched. She wore the same ridiculously flowered hat she’d had on the day Jack first flew into town.

“Darcy, Jack, welcome home,” she said, giving Darcy a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re safe. I have such news.”

“Me, too.”

“I want to hear everything, but I’m just bursting to tell you. I’m going to have a baby.” Beattie practically hopped up and down. “Blake is so excited. He’s told everyone in town at least a hundred times. I want a boy, but he’d like a little girl.”

Darcy hugged her friend, all the time eyeing that congratulatory banner. “But Beattie, what is all this hullabaloo about? There must be some mistake. We didn’t set any record.”

“Yes, you did.” Papa beamed at her and clapped Jack on the
back. “Longest over-water flight in North America. Between two countries, too. Congratulations.” He gave her a bear hug and whispered, “I’m proud of you, Darcy.”

She could have cried. It was preposterous, and quite likely incorrect, but as in gifts, it wasn’t in good taste to question the giver.

“Thank you, Papa.”

That hug was quickly followed by one from Mum, Amelia with baby John, her nieces and nephew, Prudy, Terchie and everyone she’d ever known in Pearlman, all offering outlandish accolades for the failed flight.

Jack stood to the side, feeling awash in this tide of congratulations. Sure, Blake had offered a handshake and a startling proposition, but the rush of goodwill was directed at Darcy. He was just incidental. At least her father hadn’t had him hauled off to jail. Yet. That might change when Jack asked for Darcy’s hand.

He looked to the station to see if any law enforcement was waiting, and that’s when he saw her. Sissy. In a wheelchair and smiling broadly. The sun glinted off her hair.

Jack stumbled forward. Sissy hadn’t left St. Anne’s since her accident. How had she known about the test flight? Not from him. And how had she gotten here?

Then he saw how. George Carrman stood behind Sissy pushing her wheelchair. The doctor. Darcy had said Carrman worked at St. Anne’s, but Jack hadn’t made the connection until now. This was the man Sissy loved.

An icicle stabbed Jack’s heart. Everything that had seemed so right moments before dived into the ground.

“Jackie,” his sister called out, arms held wide.

He went to her of course, knelt and embraced her. “Sissy.”

She laughed, clear and sparkling as a spring stream. “You’re
going to have to stop calling me that. I’m a grown woman, you know. I’m so proud of you, Jack.”

“How,” he stammered, standing back up, “did you know?”

“Blake Kensington wired George, and we decided on the spur of the moment. Isn’t it glorious? Oh, Jackie, I saw such sights. Cities and farms and cattle and little towns and streetlights at night and—oh, I can’t tell you everything.”

Stunned, Jack realized his sister reveled in what he’d taken for granted. She glowed, alive with excitement.

“But that’s not the best of all,” she said mysteriously, a conspiratorial smile on her face.

Carrman stepped forward. The man was actually shaking. “M-Mr. Hunter, I’d like to ask your permission to marry Cecelia.”

Jack’s jaw dropped.

“It’s fine with Dad,” Sissy said.

Jack tensed. “Our father has no right to grant permission.” He glanced at the crowd, looking for the bum.

“He’s not here. I saw him in Buffalo when he came to visit.”

Jack’s joy twisted into pain. “I don’t know why you still see him, after all he’s done.”

“He took care of me, Jackie,” she said quietly. “Long ago, he set up a trust for my care and your schooling. Yes, he stumbled. We all do at one time or another, but God will forgive us if we can forgive others. Dad’s hurting, Jack. He’s confused and lost and doesn’t know where to turn. Mom was his rock, and without her he fell. But I still believe that somehow, someday, he’ll find his way. God hasn’t given up on him, and I won’t either.”

Deep down, Jack knew what she said was true. After all, God hadn’t given up on him after years of denial. Jack had
lost his way, and the combination of Darcy’s faith and a little forest miracle brought him around.

“Do we have your blessing?” Sissy squeezed Carrman’s hand and smiled at the man with such joy that Jack couldn’t break her heart.

“I will love and care for your sister all her life,” Carrman said. “She will want for nothing. I’ll treat her like the angel she is.”

He gazed at Sissy with a love that Jack recognized. It was the way he felt about Darcy.

Sissy laughed. “Oh, do stop being so formal, George. We love each other, and that’s all that matters.”

That was all that mattered. For Sissy and for Jack.

“Of course,” Jack said after clearing the clot from his throat. He shook George’s hand. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call me Jack.” He gazed at his sister. She’d never looked happier or lovelier. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Sissy’s smile widened. “Darcy. You’re going to marry her, aren’t you?”

Jack blinked. “You know?”

“Oh, Jackie, it’s been written all over you for months.”

Jack didn’t realize he’d been so transparent. “I hope you don’t want Grandmother’s ring.”

“You gave it to her?” she squealed in delight. “Oh, Jack, when? How? Tell me everything. Maybe we can have a double ceremony.”

“A double ceremony?” said Darcy, joining them.

“A double ceremony?” echoed her father.

Jack’s gut wound tighter than a locked propeller. Why was doing the right thing so difficult? “Sir. Mr. Shea. We, that is,
I
would like to ask your blessing to marry your daughter Darcy. She’s accepted.”

Mr. Shea’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Papa, I love him.”

Her father looked at her a long moment. “He hasn’t even come to supper.”

Jack swallowed. He couldn’t let Darcy take the brunt of this. “I’d be pleased to join you. Any time.” He was bungling this. What on earth had happened to the cool, charming Jack Hunter? He was acting like a schoolboy.

Darcy threaded her fingers through his, giving him strength.

Mr. Shea stared at him. “And how do you plan to support her?”

“Jack is going to run the Buffalo flight school,” Darcy said before Jack could open his mouth, “and I’ll help.”

“You will?” Jack didn’t remember agreeing to that.

“I see.” Mr. Shea tapped a finger to his lips. “I don’t suppose I have much choice in the matter. Darcy tends to do exactly as she pleases. I hope you know what you’re getting into, young man.”

Darcy hopped up and down. “Then we have your blessing? Thank you, Papa.” She threw her arms around her father.

Mr. Shea extricated himself with a few pats to her back and “there now”s. He then stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the family, son.”
Son.
No one had called him son in almost twenty years. He could have burst from happiness. Not only did the Sheas welcome him, but Darcy soon fell into conversation with Sissy. He supposed it was odd that the two women in his life had been battered up a bit, but both were strong. Both had survived and were the better for it.

After George took Sissy back to the Kensingtons and Jack accepted the Sheas’ dinner invitation, Jack asked Darcy what she thought of his sister marrying George Carrman.

“He’s a good, honorable man, and perfectly suited to her,” Darcy said. “She’s wonderful, Jack.”

“Yes, she is,” Jack said. “Just like you.”

Darcy cocked her head. “You’re silly with love. In a year you’ll feel differently.”

“Never,” he professed. “But we do have something to discuss.”

Her grip tightened on his arm. “What is it?”

“Do you still want to live in Buffalo?”

“What are you getting at, Jack Hunter?”

“Blake Kensington wants to start an airfield here. Thought I might be just the one to do it.”

She grinned. “You’d be perfect.”

“Then you don’t object to staying in Pearlman?”

She looked round at the fields and the town, with its regular, clapboard buildings and tidy yards. “Pearlman is where we began. It may not be where we end, but it seems as good a place as any to take our next step.”

“Is that so?” Jack scooped her from the platform. “I thought you didn’t have the courage to face all these people.”

“I’m a lot stronger than you think.”

“I guess I have a lot to learn about women.”

Darcy tilted her head in that unbelievably alluring way. “Then it’s a good thing I have a lifetime to teach you.”

Dear Reader,

While visiting the Frontiers of Flight museum in Dallas, I happened upon an exhibit honoring women aviators. I had no idea so many women were involved in the dangerous early days of aviation. That exhibit piqued my curiosity and ultimately led to this story of Darcy and Jack.

Though Darcy’s story is fictional, the events surrounding the first transatlantic flight are based on fact. On May 31, 1919 one of the Curtiss flying boats crossed the Atlantic Ocean from Newfoundland to England with a stop at the Azores. John Alcock and Arthur Brown completed the first nonstop transatlantic crossing a couple weeks later. More information on the early days of flight can be found through links on my website or in books and articles at your local library.

I love to hear from readers. You can reach me through my website at
www.christineelizabethjohnson.com.

Christine Johnson