The Lightkeeper's Ball (18 page)

“What would you do if you could?”

One dark brow lifted. He could watch her expressions forever. She was as complex as his aeroplane. More, really. He doubted he could ever fathom what went on behind that beautiful face.

Fiddling with her scarf, she stared out the windshield. “I would like to do something—worthy,” she said, her voice a whisper. “My life seems so pointless. No one is my friend just because they like me.”

Now was the time to ask her for money to back his dream of a seaplane. He could name it after her, and she’d leave a legacy of something worthwhile. But hearing the pathos in her final statement, he couldn’t force the words past his lips. He liked her for who she was. He could almost wish she were penniless so he could woo her for herself alone.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again. The airfield came into sight. “We’re here,” he said.

Her shoulders straightened and she leaned forward. “It hardly looks able to fly. It’s all cables and wires. Is it safe?”

He stared at it with fresh eyes. The thing looked like it was made of balsa wood and string. But it was strong, a good machine. “I’ve had it up several times.”

She frowned. “What are those skis for?” She pointed at a pair of skis leaning against the building.

“They’re for landing on the water. I’m going to attach them to the flying machine and try to land on a lake once I get the plane perfected.”

“Planes can barely land on the ground. I must see it!” She was out of the car the moment it stopped. Her ribbons and lace fluttered in the air as she rushed to the skis. “These will allow it to land on water?” She glanced at the aeroplane.

The contraption had to appear strange to her. He ran a hand along a wire on the wing. “They will.”

“But not today?” she asked, her voice tentative.

“The plane isn’t ready for that yet. I haven’t figured out how to attach the skis. I’ll just take it up for a few minutes. I have to be back for dinner with my father.”

Lady Devonworth’s eyes lowered at his statement. She seemed to have little to say as Harrison pointed out the instruments and how the plane worked. Though she watched his every move, something changed. She became pale and withdrawn. Maybe her wrist still pained her. If so, this wasn’t a good idea.

He got into the cockpit and started the engine. In minutes, the wind was rushing through his hair and he could see her waving her handkerchief far below. He kept it up for a few minutes, then made a flawless landing.

She rushed to the plane when it stopped rolling. Her cheeks were pink. “That was splendid!”

He grinned. “Ready to go up yourself?”

Her eyes sparkled and she nodded. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

“I wouldn’t go up in it myself if it wasn’t.” He assisted her into the backseat of the aeroplane. “I think you’d better take off that scarf and put on this one.” He held up a birdman’s leather hat.

Her eyes widened and a genuine smile lifted her lips. “Oh, may I?” She reached for it.

“I don’t think you can get it on with your hair up.”

She nodded. Her slender fingers plucked the scarf from her head. When she pulled the pins from her hair, the dark tresses tumbled to her waist, and he had to shut his gaping mouth. He’d never seen such beautiful hair. Shot through with red and gold, it shone in the sun and held him mesmerized. Even when she jammed the leather hat over her head and down over her ears, her hair kept his attention.

He cleared his throat. “Your hair is going to tangle in the wind. Let’s pull it back with this.” Holding aloft a handkerchief, he approached her. “Allow me.” Once he touched the softness of her hair, he wanted to plunge his fingers into those tresses. He wound the kerchief around as much of her hair as he could and tied it in a knot.

She’d fallen still the moment he approached. It was too much to hope that she felt the same attraction he did. She was difficult to read. He stepped back. “I think we’re ready now.”

The sunlight lit her face, revealing the curve of her cheeks and lips. He looked away and reminded himself to keep his attention on flying.

The flimsy contraption that seemed more wires than anything substantial began to move. Olivia’s stomach did a cartwheel, but she wasn’t sure if it was the fact she was about to leave terra firma or if it was because she was still digesting the news that Mr. Bennett was in town. The outing today only delayed the inevitable chore of facing the man—and revealing her identity to Harrison.

The aeroplane shuddered, and she bounced with it over the rough ground. The crashing ocean was just ahead. They had to lift above the meadow soon or they would land in the whitecaps. Ocean spray left a salty taste on her lips, and the wind tore at the leather cap pinning her hair in place. Her lips stretched in an inane grin as the wheels bumped one last time and the machine began to glide on the unseen air currents she’d read about.

She was flying! Her gown billowed in the air, and she had to keep grabbing at it and wrapping it around her legs in a most unseemly manner to keep it under control. Her gaze raked the countryside below as the contraption rose higher and higher. In moments they were skipping over the tops of the redwoods. Far below she could see boats rolling on the sea. She and Harrison were higher than the seagulls swooping down to grab crabs from the rocks.

Was that an eagle’s nest on the rocky crest ahead of them? She squinted and saw a baby bird with its open beak poking from the nest. A rush of exhilaration left her light-headed. She twisted to look back at the meadow, but it was gone. All that was below them were trees and more trees. The landscape appeared unfamiliar now, and she had no idea where they were. She didn’t even see any roads.

She leaned forward to speak in Harrison’s ear. “Where are we?”

Though he was shouting, the wind nearly stole his words. “It’s wilderness below us. We’re a good twenty miles from Ferndale.”

She sat back. So far so fast? It seemed impossible. Tipping back her head, she stared in fascination at the clouds in the sky. She didn’t ever want to go down.

The plane banked and began to turn. She touched his shoulder “We’re not going back, are we?” she shouted in his ear.

He nodded. “Have to! Only enough fuel for a short flight.”

Before she could show her displeasure, the machine shuddered. Her heartbeat faltered with the engine’s sputter. She tightened her grip on his shoulder. “What’s happening?” she screamed as the plane sank toward the ground.

“Hang on!” He fought with the controls.

Olivia quivered as the wings almost seemed to flap with every shudder of the machine. She clenched her hands together and watched the trees draw nearer and nearer. They were going to die.

“Oh God, save us,” she moaned. She pressed both palms flat against her cheeks and closed her eyes, unable to watch their doom draw closer. There was no break in that line of massive redwoods.

When Harrison yelled, “Watch out!” her eyes flew open and she saw the trees part slightly to reveal a tiny meadow. The plane began to hurtle toward the space.

Though she longed to close her eyes, her lids refused to shut. Her brain cataloged everything about the scene in front of her: the stream on the far side of the flat space, the size of the redwoods, the rocks jutting up through the grass in places, the lupines growing at the edge of the woods, and the sparrows that squawked and flew out of the way of the giant bird about to crash on their turf. The scene stamped itself into her memory.

Down, down they went. The moss was incredibly green, the rocks so glossy. It would be the last thing she saw in this life. The wheels touched down with a
thump
that jarred her spine. The machine bounced skyward again. She gripped the seat and held her breath as the plane shot toward the stream at the other end of the meadow. The wheels touched down again, and this time they stayed down. All around her the wires and plane parts groaned and screamed. She saw a wing fly off followed by a part she didn’t recognize.

Something knocked hard by her feet. Harrison shouted out something unintelligible before he was catapulted from his seat. The next thing she knew she was flying through the air. She saw blue sky through the trees, then her attention turned to the mossy ground rising to meet her. She inhaled the feculent scent of decaying leaves and dirt, then hit the ground and went end over end.

S
EVENTEEN

P
LANE PARTS LITTERED
the rocky ground. Harrison groaned and put his hand to his throbbing head. His fingers came away bloody. Lady Devonworth. Where was she? His head swimming, he staggered to his feet and looked around the clearing but didn’t see her.

“Lady Devonworth,” he called. Chirping birds answered him. He heard the sound of trickling water and realized how thirsty he was. There was no time for a drink though. She might be dying somewhere without help. The thought was unbearable. He called her name again and stepped past the strewn wreckage of his dream. There would be time to grieve the loss of his plane, but not now. He didn’t dare allow himself to dwell on what this accident meant.

Stumbling over the rough ground, he stopped and peered under pieces of the plane. She had to be here somewhere. He double-checked what was left of the cockpit, then turned toward the trees. A flash of blue caught his attention. She was wearing blue. He ran toward the redwoods and found her half covered by a piece of the wing.

He dropped to his knees beside her. Twigs and moss were entwined in the long locks of hair unfettered by her cap.

“Lady Devonworth!” He touched her and nearly cringed at how cold she was. Was she dead? “Lady Devonworth?” He touched her cheek. When there was no response, he pressed his fingers to her neck and felt the strong pump of her pulse. “Thank you, God,” he said.

Her legs were exposed. He averted his eyes and yanked her dress down over her limbs. When she didn’t stir, he removed her leather cap and probed her head for cuts or lumps. All clear there. He didn’t see any blood. Next he ran his hands down her arms. No broken bones. He needed to check her legs, but that felt much too intrusive with her unconscious and unable to give permission.

He rose and carried her leather cap to the stream, where he filled it with water. Back at her side, he dipped his fingers into the water and dribbled moisture onto her lips. Birds cawed overhead, and he heard the sounds of total isolation all around him in the absence of anything but nature. How far were they from help? In which direction did the closest town lie?

If Lady Devonworth couldn’t walk, it might be days before they could get out. No one knew where they were, either. He’d told Eugene he was going up in the plane, but he hadn’t mentioned which direction he was flying. At the time Harrison hadn’t known himself. Eugene wouldn’t know where to direct searchers when he failed to return. Goldia would be in the same predicament.

He dribbled water onto her lips again. “Lady Devonworth,” he said softly. Her long lashes rested on her cheeks, but he thought he saw a flicker behind her eyelids. Touching her shoulder, he called her name again. Her eyes opened, and he was never so glad to see a glimmer of awareness as he was in the moment that he locked gazes with her.