Higher Than Eagles (Donovans of the Delta) (8 page)

“In this heat?”

“We won’t be in this heat much longer. We’ll be there.” He swept his arm wide to encompass the starlit sky.

The shock of his statement was enough to cool her ardor.

“Are you mad?”

“Yes.” His smile was rueful. “Totally without reason. Certifiably insane.” He opened the door to the cockpit. “You’d do well not to argue with me while I’m in this condition.”

She balked. “I’m not getting in that airplane.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No! I hate to fly. You know that.”

“Tonight you’ll show me exactly how much you hate the sky. You’ll explain to me precisely why.”

Rachel glimpsed the personal demons that drove him. The plane rose up beside them, gleaming in the moonlight, a ghostly machine, a diabolical machine that had haunted her since her mother’s death. Her chin went up. She wouldn’t be defeated, not this time.

“I’ll show you, Jacob. Help me into this damned machine, and I’ll tell you exactly why I hate it.” She put her arms into the sleeves of his jacket, then turned to face him. “And after tonight, I will never fly again.”

He helped her into the cockpit, leaning over her to strap her in. Her face was pale. He touched his hand to her cheek, already regretting his tactics.

“Don’t be afraid, Rachel. I won’t let any harm come to you.”

“I’m not afraid.” She pulled the jacket close around her throat, covering her glittering necklace.

Jacob’s hands played gently over her face. “I want you to understand, this is one problem that should have been resolved between us long ago.”

“You never tried to understand my viewpoint, Jacob.”

“Lord knows, I tried to, but I suppose you’re right. I could never understand how anyone could hate and fear something so beautiful.” He gazed into her eyes, willing her to understand—and to forgive. Then he turned resolutely and fastened on his headset. “Tonight you will see that flying is almost a religious experience. In the sky, in that vast and mysterious cathedral—” he paused, his arm swinging upward toward the stars “—you will feel almost as if you could touch the face of God.”

They were silent as Jacob concentrated on getting the Baron aloft. He taxied the craft smoothly down the runway, gaining speed, pulling back on the throttle, lifting the nose, climbing, climbing into the stars. A sense of exhilaration filled him until he almost shouted with joy. In the sky, he was both servant and commander. In the vastness of the heavens, he was as small and insignificant as a grain of sand. And yet . . . he was master. He commanded the machine that carried him. Like a well-trained dog, the plane obeyed his slightest order. In the Baron he could transcend the earth, traverse the heavens. All the wonder -- and mystery -- of the sky was his.

They climbed higher, higher than eagles.

Huddled into the copilot’s seat, Rachel forgot her fear when she saw his face. The only time she’d ever seen a face glow like his was more than five years before, when Benjamin had been born. Holding her newborn son in her arms, she’d seen herself in the mirror.

She looked out the window, trying to see her surroundings with Jacob’s eyes. But all she saw was darkness, interrupted here and there with a sprinkling of stars.

The Baron lifted into the sky. At 7,500 feet, Jacob turned to Rachel.

“Button your jacket. The temperature is zero degrees up here.” He flipped a switch that regulated the plane’s heater.

Even in the enclosed plane, she noticed the chill. Nodding, she obeyed Jacob, then she turned from him to look out the window. She was beginning to relax. She didn’t know if it had to do with Jacob’s presence or her own rationalization that she was too old to let her fear of flying continue to dominate her life. It was only part of the reason she’d left Jacob, but it was the sole reason she had never accepted singing engagements overseas.

Bob had known that and had not tried to change her mind. If possible, he’d always booked her engagements so that they’d have plenty of time to drive. Several times she’d had to make quick trips to New York or Los Angeles and had forced herself to fly, but she’d never conquered the fear.

She glanced at the man beside her. Things would have been different if she had married Jacob. She knew that now. He would never have passively accepted her fear of flying. At some point he would have done exactly what he was doing now—kidnapped her and taken her into the air to let her experience the adventure through his eyes.

She hugged his coat around her and smiled. Being with a swashbuckling man certainly had its appeal.

“Rachel.” She jumped when he spoke her name. He smiled at her. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“No. I don’t love it, mind you, but I have confidence in the pilot.”

“Good. We’re going into that cloud bank just above us. You won’t see anything outside the window until we climb out at about fourteen thousand feet. Think of it as taking a stroll through heavy fog.”

If he hadn’t explained what was happening, she might have been scared. Instead she felt only a slight tremor as the Baron cut through the bottom of the clouds and entered the darkness that was without stars. Puffs of dark gray clouds rolled by the windows like dirty snow that had banked along some cold street corner. Smoky wisps floated toward them, then rose up toward the dark columns of clouds that surrounded the plane.

“Are you okay, Rachel?”

“Yes.”

“We’re almost there.”

Suddenly the nose of the plane lifted out of the clouds. Color so brilliant it dazzled her eyes poured into the plane. The cockpit was filled with a golden glow. It shone on her skin, glinted off the diamonds at her throat and ears.

“Jacob!”

“It’s the moon, Rachel. Look.”

The moon, full and bright and so close she could almost touch it, hung between two banks of clouds, darkness above and darkness below. Its shining splendor touched the tops of the cloud mountains, gilding them.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“Have you ever seen anything like it?”

“No.”

“And you never will. Except up here in the sky.” He watched her, watched her awe-struck expression. “This is one of the reasons I fly, Rachel. This is one of the reasons I will never give it up.”

“Nor should you.” She turned to face him. “It’s like being in the middle of a lovely song, Jacob. It’s like seeing the most incredible love song ever written come to life.”

He smiled. “You understand.”

At last, she did. “Yes.”

Too late for regrets, he thought. Too late to wish he’d brought her with him into the sky more than six years ago.

“Then let’s go home,” he said.

In silence they left the ethereal otherworld of the sky and descended once more to the earth. So smooth was the landing that there was no indication they weren’t still flying except for the hiss of the tires as they connected with the runway.

They sat for two full minutes, unwilling to break the spell that bound them together. At last Jacob spoke.

“Is this why, Rachel?”

She knew what he meant. “Partially, Jacob. I could see only the danger not the beauty. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

He helped her from the cockpit, careful not to keep her hand too long lest even that brief contact undo his control.

Inside the car, she peeled off his jacket and handed it back to him. The scent of roses clung to the garment. He flung the jacket carelessly onto the back seat, as if he hadn’t noticed, but he knew it would be a long, long time before he could wear that jacket without thinking of Rachel. Maybe he never could.

Neither spoke as they drove back to her house. Rachel was grateful he didn’t question her, thankful he didn’t press for the truth. She had other things on her mind.
Jacob
. She had Jacob on her mind.

 o0o

He let her out at the gate, allowing her to make a graceful exit. If he had insisted on coming inside, insisted on kissing her, she didn’t, know what the consequences would have been. As she watched him drive away, she knew she had to leave. One by one Jacob was crumbling her defenses. If she stayed in Biloxi, she knew that her heart would betray her. It belonged to Jacob, always had, always would. She knew that now. The tragedy was that she couldn’t listen to her heart. She had to think of Benjamin.

She didn’t bother trying to sleep. In the few hours of night that were left, she changed into slacks and packed her bags. When the first light of morning glowed on the eastern horizon, she tiptoed into Benjamin’s room and packed for him, too. As she packed, she could hear Vashti stirring. Rachel smiled. Vashti had never been one to while away the day in bed.

She went into the kitchen, stopping by the stove long enough to pour herself a cup of coffee. It was strong and black, perked the old-fashioned way in an aluminum pot over a gas flame.

Vashti watched her for a while before she spoke her piece.

“You look like you haven’t slept a wink.”

“I haven’t. I had to pack.” She took another fortifying sip of coffee. “Benjamin and I are leaving Biloxi today.”

“Just like that.” Vashti snapped her fingers. “You’re going to tuck tail and run, just because Jacob Donovan has come to town.”

“How did you know?”

“Seeing the two of you together, it wouldn’t take an army intelligence officer to figure it out. It’s a mistake. That’s what it is.” Vashti banged the lid on the flour canister for emphasis.

“It’s self-preservation. Jacob and I couldn’t make it together six years ago, and we can’t make it together now—not that he’d want to try.”

“Ha!”

“Besides, I need a vacation. You need a vacation.” She left her coffee at the table and went to cajole the older woman. “Where do you want to go? Just name the place, and we’ll go there. How about Florida? We’ll drive down to Orlando and take Benjy to Disney World. Or Mexico? Would you rather go to Mexico?”

“I’d rather sit right here in Biloxi and watch Jacob sweep you off your feet and down to the altar, where you should have gone with him six years ago. That’s what I’d rather do.” She slung flour onto the dough board and pounded her biscuits with a vengeance. “‘Course, some folks I know can’t seem to see the forest for the trees. Always got to be running scared. Always got to be dragging this old woman around somewhere folks don’t know how to speak proper English. All that foreign jibberish. Can’t anybody talk the King’s English except Mississippians. It’s enough to make a body want to retire.”

Rachel let her grumble. It was Vashti’s way. She’d protest long and loud, air her opinions four times each, until there was positively no room for doubt about how she felt. But she’d go. She loved Benjamin and Rachel too much to stay behind. Rachel was counting on that.

Vashti turned from the dough board. “How soon do we leave?”

“As soon as I can call Louie and tell him.”

 o0o

Thirty minutes later Rachel had her boss on the phone.

“It’s sudden, sweetheart. But I agree. A vacation will do you good.”

“I know it’s short notice, Louie, but under the circumstances, there’s nothing else I can do.”

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart. I’ll get the Crawdads to come in next week and fill your spot. They’ve been pestering me for months to give them a try.” He chuckled. “The Blue Bayou is considered the launching pad to success.”

“Thanks, Louie.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. Say, you didn’t mention where you’d be going.”

“Somewhere as far away from here as I can get.”

“Take my advice. Head north where the sun won’t fry your brains every time you step out the door. I got relatives in Jersey who’d be glad to see you.”

“And I’d be glad to see them. But there’s a favorite little spot of mine on Lake George in Florida, close enough to Orlando to take Benjy to Disney World but far enough from civilization to be a real retreat. Maybe next time, Louie.”

 o0o

The three of them were on the road by nine o’clock, Rachel driving, Vashti buckled in beside her, and Benjy bouncing against his seatbelt in the back, pretending the BMW was an airplane and he was the pilot. With the little boy providing the sound effects, they zoomed east on Highway 90, skirting along the edge of the gulf, heading to Florida.

They took their first bathroom break at Pascagoula, less than fifty miles out of Biloxi. As usual, when Benjy was one of the travelers, the pit stop became a real adventure.

“I bet they got a real gum ball machine,” he told his mother, tugging her toward the small service station.

She smiled. “I’ll bet they do. Why don’t we go inside and find out? Are you coming, Vashti?”

Vashti heaved herself out of the front seat. “You two go on. It’ll take me fifteen minutes in the powder room. When you’ve got a body sculpted by Sara Lee, these things take longer.”

Clutching her straw purse and holding onto her straw hat so the gulf breezes wouldn’t blow it off her head, she watched the two of them go. She never traveled without her hat, for she didn’t believe in letting the sun ruin her complexion. She also didn’t believe in raising children without a father.

Her straw sandals slapped against the concrete as she lumbered her way around the service station to the pay telephone. Fishing a quarter out of her purse, she wedged herself into the phone booth and picked up the receiver. She hoped the Lord would forgive her for meddling. But under the circumstances, she didn’t see what else she could do.

The phone rang six times before she heard the click at the other end. She smiled. Everything was going to work out all right.

“This is Vashti,” she said. Then, while Rachel and Benjy were putting pennies into the gum ball machine, she began to tell her story—at least part of it.

 o0o

Jacob was in Florida long before Rachel arrived. He’d flown the Baron into Daytona Beach and had rented a jeep for the drive inland to Lake George. Vashti had been very specific about the cabin Rachel always rented. Jacob had the good fortune to rent the one next door to hers. A copse of trees separated the cabins, but sitting on his front porch looking through his binoculars, he had a good view of Rachel’s retreat. Only a few low-hanging tree branches kept his view from being perfect.