Wings (26 page)

It was a long, sad weekend for her, and she spent a lot of time with him. And on Sunday afternoon when she left, it tore her apart as nothing before in her life had. Her father had sensed what was happening and he had talked to her before she left, but it hadn't really helped her. It made her feel closer to him, but it didn't change what was happening with Nick. She was in love with him, and he with her, and he was telling her to forget it. She didn't tell her father that in so many words, but he understood it.

“It's the way he is, Cass. He has to be free
to
do what he believes in.”

“It's not our fight”

“But he wants it to be his, and he's good at it. He's a good man, Cassie.”

“I know that.” And then she looked unhappily up at her father. “He thinks he's too old for me.”

“He is. I used to worry about him falling for you,” Pat admitted, “but I think he'd do you a lot of good too. But you can't convince a man of that. He has to find it out for himself.”

“He thinks you'd be angry at him.”

“He knows that's not the truth… nor the problem… the problem is in his mind, what he believes, what he wants for you. You won't find the answers now, Cass. If you're lucky, he'll come back, and you can both work it out later.”

“And if he doesn't?” she asked sadly.

“Then you've been loved by a fine man, and you've been lucky to know him.” She clung to her father then, finding the lessons to be learned to be almost beyond bearing.

She said good-bye to her family at the house, and Nick drove her out to the airfield. He helped her untie her plane, and do all her ground checks, admiring the extraordinary machine she had brought with her, but as she revved her engines, he pulled her close to him and just held her.

“Take care of yourself…” she said, in anguish. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now be a good girl, and do some good flying. I can see now why they keep a chaperone with you,” he teased, to help lighten the moment. They had come very close to losing their heads more than once over the weekend.

“Write to me… let me know where you are…” she said, as tears ran down her cheeks like rivers.

He pointed to the sky with a sad smile. His eyes told her everything she needed to know, and he could no longer say to her. He was leaving her, and if he came back, who knew what the future held. There were no promises, no sure things. There was only now. And right now, at this very moment, he loved her as he had never loved anyone and never would again.

“Take it easy, Cass,” he said softly, as he stepped away from her. “Keep it high.” He was smiling, but there were tears in his eyes too. “I love you,” he mouthed, and then left the plane. She looked at him for a long painful moment, and her eyes were so full of tears she could hardly see as she taxied down the runway. It was the only time in her entire life when there was no thrill as she left the ground, and she slowly dipped her wings to him, and then headed west, as he watched her.

13

T
he first weeks after Nick was gone were difficult for Cass. Her mind was constantly on him, but she had to force herself to concentrate on other things when she was flying. She seemed to fly all the time, from morning till night, and in the month of September she set two more records in the Phaeton. By October, Poland had fallen completely into German hands. And Cassie knew that Nick was at Hornchurch Aerodrome, and assigned to a unit of fighter pilots as an instructor. He was training young pilots to do what he had done in the last war, and for the moment he wasn't flying missions himself. Her father claimed that his age might keep him out of it, but with his extraordinary reputation, he thought it unlikely. But at least for the moment, he was safe. He hadn't written to her, but he had gotten word to her father through another pilot, which was something.

Her life in Los Angeles was as hectic as usual, and the photographers and social events seemed to be thicker than ever. But Desmond kept insisting on the importance of it, and he took her to lunch from time to time, to discuss his planes and her observations of them, which always astounded him, but also to encourage her about the importance of public relations. Their conversations were almost always about his planes, and he was always very businesslike with her. There was a mutual respect there too, and at times he seemed a little more friendly. But the only thing that ever really interested him was his business. And for someone who had such a strong interest in publicity, she was surprised that she so seldom saw anything personal about him in the papers.

He continued to be very generous with her, giving her a large bonus each time she set a record. And he encouraged her to fly all his planes. On Thanksgiving she went home in a Williams P-6 Storm Petrel; she was sleek and painted black and the sheer beauty of her totally amazed her father. She took him up in it, and offered Chris a ride too, but he said he was too busy. He had a new girlfriend in Walnut Grove, and he didn't want to waste any time at the airport. But Billy was more than eager to go with her. He had heard from Nick. It seemed as though everyone had, except Cassie. It was almost as though he were proving a point. But she had long since understood the message. It was just as he had said it would be in spite of all her pleas and protests. “I love you. So long. End of Story.” And there was nothing she could do about it now, if ever. She talked to Billy about it late one night, and he told her Nick was the greatest guy he'd ever known, but the epitome of a loner.

“I think he's crazy about you, Cass. I saw it the first time I met you. I figured you knew it too, and I was surprised you didn't. But he's scared, I guess. He's not used to taking anyone with him. And he figured maybe he wouldn't come back this time. He didn't want to do that to you.”

“Great. So he tells me he loves me, and then dumps me.”

“He figures you should marry some hotshot in L.A. He said so.”

“Nice of him to decide that,” she complained, but there was nothing she could do. Talking to Billy helped. He was like another brother, except one who liked to fly as much as she did. He was planning to come out and see her in LA sometime before Christmas.

And when she left again, she promised to come home for the Christmas holidays. Until then, she had a lot to do. Williams was introducing two new planes, and she was an important part of those introductions. She was going to be doing
test
flights, and interviews, and posing for photographs. But she figured that by Christmas the worst of it would be all over. Desmond had already agreed to give her a week off between Christmas and New Year's.

The Russians invaded Finland the day she went back after the Thanksgiving holiday, and it was obvious that things were not going well in Europe. It worried her for Nick, but with her grueling schedule, she scarcely had time to keep up with the news.

She was relieved to know that, for the moment, Nick was just an instructor.

When Billy came out to visit her in mid-December, she took him up in their best planes. He was stunned by what she'd been flying.

“You've got some great stuff out here, Cass,” His eyes had lit up like Christmas when he saw the maritime patrol variant developed by Williams from an earlier transport, borrowing innovations from Howard Hughes's fabulous racer.

“They'd probably give you a job as a test pilot if you ever wanted it,” she suggested to him, but her father would probably be outraged by her luring him away. Pat was relying on him now, and Billy knew that.

“I couldn't leave him,” Billy smiled. “Just bring one of these gals home for a visit now and then, and that'll keep me happy.”

But she introduced him to Desmond Williams anyway, and told him what an extraordinary pilot Billy was the next time they had lunch in his office. He showed some interest in him, but his real interest was in Cassie. He couldn't imagine another pilot who flew as well as she did. They talked a lot about the war in Europe these days
too
. He was hoping to sell planes abroad, and like Nick, he assumed America would get involved eventually.

“I think we'll get shamed into it by our allies,” he said calmly. It was exactly what had happened last time.

“I've got a friend over there now,” she admitted to him one day. “He signed up as a fighter instructor for the RAF. He's stationed at Hornchurch.” It was one of those rare days when they talked about something more than business.

“He sounds like a noble man,” Desmond commented as a waiter poured coffee for them in his private office.

“No, just another fool like the rest of us,” she said ruefully and he laughed. They both knew that fliers were a special breed of people.

“And what about you, Cass? No grandiose ideas of noble plans? You've accomplished a great deal since you've been here. Does that give you any bigger ideas?” She wasn't sure what he had in mind, but he seemed to have an idea he wasn't ready to discuss yet.

“Not for the moment,” she said honestly, “I'm happy here. You've been very good to me, Desmond.”

He couldn't help notice that she had grown up a lot in the five months since she'd been in Los Angeles. She looked very sophisticated, and very polished, in part thanks to Nancy's help. But Cassie had her own ideas about clothes now. She handled herself beautifully with the press, and the public adored her. Not enough of them knew her yet, for his taste, but in the spring, he wanted her to start doing a tour of local air shows. She wondered sometimes what difference that kind of publicity made and if it really sold airplanes. Most air shows seemed
so
local and small scale. But it was important
to
him, and he reminded her that he expected her to make a tour of several hospitals and orphanages for a Christmas newsreel.

“You should have time to do that before you go home,” he said firmly.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of it.” She smiled at him and he laughed. Her eyes were always full of mischief, and he found it very appealing. He knew how much she disliked his publicity ideas, and he always wondered if she would balk at them. But in the end, she always did what was expected of her.

“In January, we're flying to New York, by the way,” he said casually, but this time with a glimmer in his own eye. “For a meeting between the queen of the cockpit, Cassie O'Malley, and the illustrious Charles Lindbergh.” She knew her father would be thrilled with that piece of news when she told him. Even she was impressed by that one, as she listened to Desmond explain it to her.

They were taking Desmond's brand-new plane, and Cassie was to fly a brief demonstration for Lindbergh, and then he would give both her and the plane his endorsement. He had already promised it to Desmond, and they were old friends. Like Desmond, Charles Lindbergh knew the value of public relations. And besides Lindy was interested in meeting Desmond's legendary young pilot.

She managed to do her hospital tour as planned, and Desmond was extremely pleased with what they got of it on the newsreel. And then she went home on schedule, for a week. Her mother had influenza, but she managed to be up and around long enough to cook Christmas dinner for all of them, and her father was in fine form. Billy had gone home too, to see his dad in San Francisco. And Chris was all wrapped up in Jessie, his new girl in Walnut Grove, so there was no one for her to play with. But she was happy anyway. She went for a long walk on Christmas Eve, and to church that night with her sisters. She stopped at the airfield on the way back,
to
check on her plane. She always felt even more responsible for the ones she brought home, they were so valuable and they weren't hers. But it was fun to fly them.

She checked that no one had disturbed anything, that the windows were closed, and the engine was protected. Her father had cleared his best hangar for her, and she knew that all his friends would come to see the plane she'd flown home. Little by little, she was becoming a legend.

After she'd checked on the plane, she walked slowly back into the night air. It was cold and brisk, and there was snow on the ground. It reminded her of Christmases when she was a little girl, and she had come to the airport with Nick and her father. It was hard not to think of him here. There were so many memories that Nick was a part of. She looked up at the sky, thinking of him, and almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice behind her whisper “Merry Christmas.” She wheeled to see who it was, and gave a gasp when she saw him standing there in uniform, like a vision.

“Oh, my God…” She stared at him in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” she asked Nick breathlessly as she flung herself toward him and he caught her.

“Should I go back?” he asked with a grin, looking handsomer than ever, as he held her and she hugged him.

“No. Never,” she answered as he clung to her as powerfully as she held him. He had never been happier than at this moment as he kissed her.

They were golden days. They talked, they laughed, they flew, they went for long walks, they even went ice skating on the pond, and to see
Ninotchka
with Garbo at the movies. It was all like a dream. Their time together was so precious and so short, it was idyllic. And although they sat and kissed and held each other for hours sometimes, he was adamant that no one know what had changed between them.

“My father knows anyway. What difference does it make?” She was always so matter-of-fact, but as usual he was insistent, and convinced he was right.

“I don't want to ruin your reputation.”

“By kissing me? How old-fashioned can you get?”

“Never mind. The whole world doesn't need to know you've fallen in love with an old man.”

“I'll be sure not to tell them your age.”

“Thanks.” But as usual, he was very stubborn. There were no ties, no promises, no future held out to her. There was only now, and the infinite exquisite beauty and pain of the moment. They kissed constantly whenever they were alone, and they were hard-pressed not to go any further. But the last thing he wanted to do now was leave her pregnant.

The day before he had to leave, he brought up the subject of the war. He said conditions in England were good, and so far he hadn't flown a single mission.