Wings. Part 2

"We're okay," she shouted encouragingly back at Chris, but he couldn't hear her. "We're going to be fine," she kept saying to herself, and then she began talking to the Jenny itself, as though the little plane could follow her directions. She had heard about some of her father's and Nick's tricks, and she knew that there was one that would get them out of this mess, if it didn't kill them. She had to trust her own instincts for this, and she had to be very, very sure... she was talking to herself, into the wind, as the plane began to drop dramatically. She was looking for the lowest edge of the clouds, and counting on finding it before they hit the ground, but if it was too low, and she dropped too fast, or if she lost control for a single instant... it was called scud running, and if you lost... you died. It was as simple as that. And they both knew it, as the little Jenny dropped toward the ground as quickly as Ca.s.sie would let it.

Their speed was terrifying by then, the howling of the wind deafening, as they flew through the inky wet blackness. It seemed like a bottomless place they were (ailing into, filled with horrifying sounds, and terrifying feelings, and then suddenly, almost before she knew, she sensed before she saw, both the treeline, and the ground, and then the airport. She pulled sharply on the stick, and pulled herself up just before they'd have hit the trees. They got lost in the clouds again for a moment or two, but she knew then where she was, and how to approach the airport. She closed her eyes just for a second, feeling where she was, and how fast she could drop, and again she saw the trees, but this time she was in full control. She came in just over them, as the wind tipped her wings, and almost knocked them over. She pulled up and circled the airport again, wondering if they could land at all, or if in the end it would be impossible because of the force of the unpredictable winds. She wasn't afraid, she was just thinking very quietly, and then she saw him. It was Nick waving frantically. He had seen what she'd done, seen her running just under the clouds, and almost hit the ground. She was less than fifty feet above it. He ran to where she should be, and tried to wave her in, on the farthest runway. The angle of the wind was just enough gentler there to allow her to make a breathtaking landing. The little Jenny screeched all the way down the runway, with the wind hard on their faces, and Ca.s.sie gritted her teeth so hard her face ached. Her hair was plastered to her head from the rain, and her hands were numb from clutching the stick, and Chris was sitting behind her with his eyes closed. They bounced hard when they hit the ground, and he opened them. He couldn't believe she'd brought them in, he had been sure they were as good as dead; he was still in shock when Nick came rus.h.i.+ng up to them, and physically dragged him out of the plane, while Ca.s.sie just sat there shaking.

"What the h.e.l.l are you two lunatics trying to do? Commit suicide, or bomb the airport?" They had come pretty close to the roof on the way down, but Ca.s.sie had decided that was the least of their problems. She was still amazed that she'd brought them in at all, and she had to fight to repress a grin of relief. She'd been so d.a.m.n scared, and yet a part of her had stayed so cool. All she could do was think about how to get out of it, and talk to the little airplane. "Are you crazy?" Nick was shaking him, and glaring at her, as Pat came running out from the airport.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on here?" he shouted at all of them, as the wind buffeted them, and Ca.s.sie began worrying about the plane. She didn't want her turned over and damaged as they sat in the wind on the runway.

"These two fools of yours went out for a joyride in this. I think they're trying to get killed, or destroy your airplanes, I'm not sure which, but they ought to have their b.u.t.ts kicked." Nick was so furious he could hardly speak, and Pat couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He stared at Chris in utter astonishment. "You went out in this? this?" He was referring to the weather not the plane, as his son knew.

"I... uh... I just thought we'd go up and come right down... and..."... he wanted to whine as he had as a child, "But, Daddy, Ca.s.sie made me..." But he said not a word as his father tried to hide his pride in him. The kid had guts, and he was a h.e.l.l of a pilot.

"And you landed her in this? Don't you know how dangerous this kind of weather is? You could have been killed." Pat couldn't hide the pride in his voice, it was beyond him.

"I know, Dad. I'm sorry." Chris was fighting not to cry, and Ca.s.sie was watching her father's face. She knew only too well what she saw there. It was raw pride in the accomplishments of his son, or so he thought. It was meant for her, but it went to Chris, because he was a boy, and that was just the way things were. The way they always had been. Whatever she did in life, she knew she had to do it for herself, not for him, because he would never understand it or give her credit for it. She was "only a girl" to him. That was all she ever would be.

Pat turned to look at Ca.s.sie then, almost as though he could hear her thinking. And then he looked at his son again with an angry scowl. "You should never have taken her up in this. It's too dangerous for pa.s.sengers to be out in bad conditions. You shouldn't have gone up yourself. But never take a pa.s.senger into weather like this, son." She was someone to be protected, but never admired. It was her destiny, and she knew it.

"Yes, sir." There were tears standing out in Chris's eyes as his father glanced at the plane, and his son, in fresh amazement.

"Put her away then." And with that he walked away, and Nick watched Chris and Ca.s.sie put the plane away. Chris looked so shaken he could hardly walk, but Ca.s.sie was calm, as she wiped the rain off the plane, and checked the engine. Her brother only looked at her angrily and stalked away, determined never to forgive her for almost killing him. He would never forget how close they had come, and all because of one of her whims. She was completely crazy. She had proved it.

She put the last of her tools away, and she was surprised when she turned to find Nick standing just behind her. He looked very much like the storm she had just flown through. Her brother was gone, and her father was waiting for them inside the airport.

"Don't ever ever do that again. You're a d.a.m.n fool, and you could have been killed. That little trick only works once in a while for the greats, and usually not for them. It won't work for you again, Ca.s.s. Don't try it." But it had worked for him more than once. And years before, watching him, it had made Fat as angry as Nick was now. His eyes were like steel as he looked at her. He was furious, but there was something else there too. And her heart gave a little leap as she saw it. It was what she had wanted from Pat, and knew she would never get from him. It was admiration, and respect. It was all she wanted. do that again. You're a d.a.m.n fool, and you could have been killed. That little trick only works once in a while for the greats, and usually not for them. It won't work for you again, Ca.s.s. Don't try it." But it had worked for him more than once. And years before, watching him, it had made Fat as angry as Nick was now. His eyes were like steel as he looked at her. He was furious, but there was something else there too. And her heart gave a little leap as she saw it. It was what she had wanted from Pat, and knew she would never get from him. It was admiration, and respect. It was all she wanted.

"I don't know what you mean." She looked away from him. Now that she was back on the ground, she felt drained. The exhilaration was almost gone, and what she felt now was the backlash of the terror, and the exhaustion.

"You know d.a.m.n well what I mean!" he shouted at her and grabbed her arm, his black hair matted around his face. He had stood staring up at her plane, willing her in, willing her to find the hole in the clouds, to make it. He couldn't have stood losing both of them, seeing them die, and all for a joyride. In the war, they'd had no choice. But this was different. It was so senseless.

"Let go of me." She was angry at him. She was angry at all of them. Her brother who got all the glory and didn't know how to fly worth a d.a.m.n, her father who was so obsessed with him he couldn't see anything, and Nick who thought he knew it all. It was their secret club, they had all the toys, and they would never let her play. She was good enough to fuel their machines and work on their engines, and get their oil and grease in her hair, but never to fly their planes. "Leave me alone!" she shouted at him, and he only grabbed her other arm. He had never seen her like this, and he didn't know whether to spank her or hold her.

"Ca.s.sie, I saw what you did up there!" He was still shouting at her. "I'm not blind. I know Chris can't fly like that! I know you were flying the plane... but you're crazy. You could have gotten yourself killed... you can't do that..." She looked at him with such misery that his heart went out to her. He had wanted to beat her senseless for almost killing herself, and now instead, he felt sorry for her. He understood now as he never had before what she wanted, and how badly she wanted it, and just how much she was willing to do to get it.

"Ca.s.sie, please..." He kept a grip on her arms and pulled her closer to him. "Please... don't ever do anything like that again. I'll teach you myself. I promise. Leave Chris alone. Don't do that to him. I'll teach you. If you want it so badly, I'll do it." He held her close to him, cradling her like a little girl, grateful that she hadn't been killed by her foolish but daring stunt. He knew he couldn't have stood it. He looked at her unhappily as he held her close to him. They were both badly shaken by what had happened. But she only shook her head at him. She knew how impossible it was. This was the only way she could have it.

"My father will never let you teach me, Nick," she said miserably, no longer denying that she had brought Chris in, instead of the other way around. Nick knew the truth, and she knew that. There was no point lying to him. She had done it.

"I didn't say I'd ask him, Ca.s.s. I said I'd do it. Not here." He smiled ruefully at her, and handed her a clean towel to dry her hair with. "You look like a drowned rat."

"At least I don't have grease all over my face for a change," she said shyly. She felt closer to him than she ever had before. And different. She was drying her hair, as she looked at him again. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What do you mean 'not here.' Where else would we go?" She felt suddenly grown-up, part of a conspiracy with him. Something had very subtly changed between them.

"There are half a dozen little strips we can go to. It may not be easy. You could catch a bus to Prairie City after school, and I could meet you there. In the meantime, maybe Chris would drop you off there this summer now and then on his way to work. I imagine he'd rather do that than risk his life several times a week flying with you. I know I would." Ca.s.sie grinned. Poor Chris. She had scared the pants off him, and she knew it. But it had seemed like such a great idea, and for a few minutes it was fun. And after that, it was the scariest thing she had ever done, and the most exciting.

"Do you mean it?" She looked amazed, but in fact, they both did. He was a little startled himself at what he'd just offered.

"I guess I do. I never thought I'd do something like this. But I think maybe some instruction will keep you out of a lot more trouble. And maybe after you fly respectably for a while," he looked at her pointedly, "we can talk to Pat and see if he'll let you fly from here. He'll come around eventually. He has to."

"I don't think he will," she said gloomily, as they went back out into the rain to meet her father in his office. And then, just before they reached it, soaked again, she stopped and looked at him with a smile that melted his very soul. He didn't want to feel that way with her, and it startled him. But they had been through a lot that evening, and it had brought them closer together.

'Thanks, Nick."

"Don't mention it. And I mean that." Her father would have strangled him for giving her lessons. He tousled her wet hair then, and walked her into her father's office. Chris was looking shaken and gray, and his father had just given him a nip of brandy.

"You okay, Ca.s.s?" Pat glanced at her, but saw that she looked none the worse for wear, unlike her brother. But the responsibility had been his after all, and the hard part of landing back at the airport, or at least that was what her father thought, and Chris hadn't told him any different.

"I'm okay, Dad," she a.s.sured him.

"You're a brave girl," he said admiringly, but not admiring enough. It was Nick who had understood. Nick who had agreed to give her what she had always dreamed of. Her dream come true, and she was suddenly glad she had gone up in the storm, even if she had taken a h.e.l.l of a chance. Maybe in the end, it had been worth it.

Pat drove Chris and Ca.s.sie home, and their mother was waiting for them. As soon as they sat down to dinner, her father told Oona the whole story. Or what he thought was the whole story, of how incredible Chris had been, how he had flown by sheer wit and nerve, and after the initial foolishness of going up in the storm, had brought them home safely. Their father was so proud of him, and Chris said nothing at all. He just went to his room, and lay on his bed and cried, with the door closed.

Ca.s.sie went in to see him after a while. She knocked for a long time, and he finally let her in, with a look that combined anguish and fury.

"What do you you want?" want?"

'To tell you I'm sorry I scared you... and almost got us killed. I'm sorry, Chris. I shouldn't have done it." She could afford to be magnanimous now, now that Nick had agreed to give her what she had always wanted.

"I'm never going up in a plane with you again," he said ominously, glaring at her like a much younger brother who had been used and betrayed by a wilier older sister.

"You don't have to," she said quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed as he stared at her.

"You're giving up flying?" That he'd never believe.

"Maybe... for now..." She shrugged, as though it didn't matter to her, but he knew her better.

"I don't believe you."

"I'll see. It doesn't matter now. I just wanted to tell you I was sorry."

"You should be," he fired at her, and then he backed down, and reached out and touched her arm. "Thanks though... for saving our a.s.ses up there. I really thought we were done for."

"So did I," she grinned excitedly at him. "I really thought for a while there it was over." And then she giggled.

"You lunatic," and then, admiringly, "you're a h.e.l.l of a pilot, Ca.s.s. You You gotta learn right one day, and not all this sneaky stuff behind Dad's back. He's got to let you fly. You're ten times the pilot I'll ever be. I'll bet you're as good as he is." gotta learn right one day, and not all this sneaky stuff behind Dad's back. He's got to let you fly. You're ten times the pilot I'll ever be. I'll bet you're as good as he is."

"I doubt that, but you'll be okay. You're a good straightforward pilot, Chris. Just stay out of the tough stuff."

"Yeah, thanks," he grinned at her, no longer wanting to kill her. "I'll remind you of that, next time you offer to take me up and kill me."

"I won't, for a while," she said angelically, but he knew her better.

"What's that all about? You're up to something, Ca.s.s."

"No, I'm not. I'm going to behave... for a while anyway..."

"Lord help us. Just let me know when you decide to go berserk again. I'll be sure to stay away from the airport. Maybe you ought to do that for a while too. I swear, those fumes have made you crazy."

"Maybe so," she said dreamily. But it was more than that, and she knew it. She had those fumes in her blood, her bones, and she knew more than ever that she would never escape them.

Bobby Strong came by after dinner that night, and he was horrified when he heard her father's tale, and furious with Chris a little later when he saw him.

"The next time you take my girl up and almost kill her, you'll have to answer to me," he said, much to Chris's and Ca.s.sie's astonishment. "That was a dumb thing to do and you know it." Chris would have liked to tell him Ca.s.sie wanted to, he would have liked to tell him a lot of things, but of course he couldn't.

"Yeah, sure," her younger brother mumbled vaguely as he went back to his room. They were all nuts. Bobby, Ca.s.s, his father, Nick. None of them knew the truth, none of them knew who was to blame and who wasn't. His father thought he was a criminal, and Ca.s.sie had them all bamboozled. But only Ca.s.sie knew the truth about that, and Nick, now that he had promised to give her lessons.

Bobby lectured her that night on how dangerous flying was, how useless, and how foolish; he told her that all the men involved in it were immature, and they were just playing like children. He hoped she had learned a lesson that night, and that she would be more reasonable in the future about hanging around the airport. He expected it of her, he explained. How could she expect to have any kind of future at all if she spent her life covered in grease and oil, and was willing to risk her life on a wild adventure with her brother? Besides, she was a girl, and it wasn't proper.

She tried to make herself agree with him, because she knew he meant well. But she was relieved when he left. And all she could think of that night, as she lay in bed listening to the rain, was what Nick had promised her, and how soon they would start flying together. She could hardly wait. She lay awake for hours, thinking about it, and remembering the feeling of the wind on her face, as she dashed beneath the clouds in the Jenny, looking for the edge, waiting to escape, just before they hit the ground, and then soaring free again, shearing the top of the trees, and then coming in safely. It had been an extraordinary day, and she knew that no matter what anyone said to her about how dangerous or improper it was, she would never give it up. Not for any of them. She just couldn't.

4.

Three days after the storm that eventually turned into a tornado, ten miles away in Blandinsville, Ca.s.sie got up and did her ch.o.r.es and when she left the house, she told her mother she was going to the library, and then to meet a friend from school who had married that spring, and was expecting a baby. And after that she'd stop by the airport. She had packed an apple and a sandwich in a paper bag, and she had taken a dollar from her savings and hidden it in her pocket. She wasn't sure how much the bus fare would be, but she wanted to be sure she had enough to get to Prairie City. She had promised to meet Nick there at noon, and as she walked toward the bus terminal downtown in the summer sun, she was sorry she hadn't worn a hat. But she knew that if she had, her mother would have suspected something. She never wore one.

As she walked along, she looked like a long, lanky girl, going off to meet friends. She looked her age, but was extraordinarily lovely. She was even prettier than her mother had been, she was taller and thinner, and she had an even more impressive figure. But her looks were something that Ca.s.sie never thought about. Looks were something for other girls, who had nothing else in their heads, or girls like her sisters who wanted to to get married and have babies. She knew she wanted children one day, or at least she thought she did, but there were so many other things she wanted first, things she would probably never have, like excitement and freedom and flying. She loved reading stories about women pilots, and she read everything she could about Amelia Earhart and Jackie Cochran. She'd read Lindbergh's book We, about his Atlantic solo in 1927, and his wife's book get married and have babies. She knew she wanted children one day, or at least she thought she did, but there were so many other things she wanted first, things she would probably never have, like excitement and freedom and flying. She loved reading stories about women pilots, and she read everything she could about Amelia Earhart and Jackie Cochran. She'd read Lindbergh's book We, about his Atlantic solo in 1927, and his wife's book North to the Orient North to the Orient the year before when it came out, and Earhart's book, the year before when it came out, and Earhart's book, The Fun of It The Fun of It. All the women involved in aviation were her heroes. She often wondered why they could do what she could only dream of. But maybe now with Nick helping her... just maybe... if she could just fly... if she could just take off as she had the other day with Chris, and soar lazily into the sky forever.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed her bus, and she had to run to catch it before it left her. She was relieved to see that no one she knew had gotten on, and the forty-five-minute ride to Prairie City in the dilapidated bus was uneventful. It had only cost fifteen cents, and she spent the entire trip daydreaming about her lessons.

It was a long walk to the airstrip after the bus dropped her off, but Nick had told her exactly how to get there. He had somehow a.s.sumed that she would get a ride from someone. It had never dawned on him that she would walk the last two miles to meet him, and when she arrived she looked hot and damp and dusty. He was sitting quietly on a rock, drinking a soda, with the familiar Jenny parked at the end of the deserted airstrip. There was no one else around, just the two of them. It was a runway that was used occasionally for crop dusters, and had been put in originally in barnstorming days. It was only used occasionally, but it was in good repair. Nick had known it would be the perfect place for their lessons.

"You okay?" He looked at her with a fatherly air, as she pushed her bright red hair off her face, and held it off her neck. The sun was blazing. "You look hotter than h.e.l.l. Here, have something to drink." He handed her his c.o.ke, and watched her admiringly as she took a long swallow. She had a long graceful neck, and the silky whiteness of her throat reminded him of the palest pink marble. She was a striking girl, and there were times lately when he almost wished she weren't Pat's daughter. But it wouldn't have done him any good anyway, he reminded himself. He was thirty-five and she was seventeen, she was hardly fair prey for a man his age. But there were moments when it could have been tempting. "What did you do, you goofball?" he asked, relieving the tension of the moment. It was odd being here, just the two of them, alone on their secret mission. "Did you walk all the way from Good Hope?"

"No," she grinned back at him, quenched by his soda. "Just from Prairie City. It was farther than I thought. And hotter."

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically. He felt bad to have brought her so far, but it had seemed the perfect place for their rendezvous with her father's plane, for their secret lessons.

"Don't be," she grinned, accepting another swig of his soda. "It's worth it." He could see easily in her eyes how much it meant to her. She was crazed over planes, and totally in love with flying. It was exactly how he had been at her age, dragging from airport to airport to airport, happy to do anything, just to be near the planes and get a chance to fly now and then. The war had been like a dream come true for him, flying in the 94th, with men who had almost all become legends. But he was sorry for her, it wouldn't be that easy, particularly if Pat was determined to keep her from flying. Nick was hoping that one of these days he might sway him. And in the meantime, at least he could teach her the important things, so she didn't kill herself doing crazy tricks, or scud running with her brother. He still shuddered when he thought of her flying out of the clouds three days before, just barely above the ground and moving like a bullet. At least now she'd know what she was doing.

"Shall we give it a whirl?" he asked, waving at the Jenny. She was sitting there, waiting for them, an old friend, just as they were.

She was too excited to even speak to him as they walked down the airstrip to the familiar plane. She had ga.s.sed her a thousand times, cleaned her engine, lovingly washed her wings, and flown her half a dozen times with Chris pretending that he was taking his sister up for a joyride. But the Jenny had never looked as beautiful to Ca.s.sie as she did now. They did a walk around first, checked the landing gear to make sure he hadn't damaged it when he landed. She was a low plane with a broad wingspan and the feel of a larger plane, although she was a modest size, and she wasn't daunting to Ca.s.sie. And now Ca.s.sie gently stepped into her and buckled her seat belt. She knew that the skies would soon be hers, she had a right to them, just as they all did. And after that, no one could stop her.

"All set?" Nick shouted at her in the first noise of the engine. Ca.s.sie nodded with a grin, and he hopped in the seat behind her. At first, he would be flying the plane, and once they were safely in the air, he would turn over the controls to her. This time she wouldn't, have to wrest them from him, as she had from Chris. This time it would all be aboveboard, and as they taxied down the runway, Ca.s.sie turned to look at him. Nick's was such a familiar face to her, and yet as she saw him now, she felt happier than she had ever been, and she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.

"What?" She had said something to him, and at first he couldn't hear her. He didn't think anything was wrong, she looked too happy for there to be a problem. But he leaned forward so he could hear her better. His dark hair was blowing in the wind, his eyes were the same color as the summer sky, and there were lines around his eyes from where he squinted into the sunlight.

"I said... thank you!..." She shouted back at him, her eyes so filled with joy that it touched his heart. He squeezed her shoulder gently, and she turned forward again, and put her hands on the controls. But there was no question this time as to who was flying the plane. Nick was.

He pushed the throttle forward evenly, and used the rudder pedals. And a moment later, they lifted smoothly off the runway and rose easily into the air, and as they did, Ca.s.sie felt her heart soar with the old Jenny. She felt the same thrill she always did when she left the ground. She was flying! flying!

He started a gentle turn to move away from the small airstrip, and then rolled the wings to level off, and touched Ca.s.sie on the shoulder. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he pointed at her, indicating to her to take the controls now. She nodded, and as though by instinct, Ca.s.sie took over. She knew what she needed to do, and they flew easily through the bright blue sky, as though she had been flying all her life. And in some ways she had. He was amazed at her skill, and her natural instincts. She had picked up a lot of his own and her father's tricks, just by watching them, and she seemed to have a style of her own, which was surprisingly smooth and easy. She seemed totally at ease at the controls of the small plane, and Nick decided to see how much she could do on their first lesson.

He had her do turns and banks in different directions, first moving left and then right; he was going to tell her to keep the nose up, to maintain alt.i.tude, but she seemed to know automatically that the plane would fall during turns, and she kept the nose up without his telling her anything. Her natural sense for the plane was uncanny. She kept back pressure on the stick with a steady hand, and the nose stayed up in response to her movements.

He had her do S turns then, using a small dirt road as a guide, and he noticed as she did them, that she controlled her alt.i.tude easily. She seldom seemed to look at the instruments yet she knew when she needed to compensate, or rise higher in the sky. She seemed to fly primarily by feel and sight, which was a sure sign of a natural pilot. It was rare to see one like her, and he knew he had seen d.a.m.n few in his lifetime.

He had her fly circles for a while, around a silo they spotted on a distant farm, and she complained at how boring it was, but he had wanted to check her precision. She was careful and precise, and astonis.h.i.+ngly accurate, particularly for someone who had scarcely flown. And then finally, he let her try a loop, and the double loop she had wanted to terrify her brother with. But after that, he taught her how to recover from a stall, which was far more important. But she seemed to know that by instinct too. Her total calm going into the stall impressed him, as the Jenny began to fall nose down with alternate wings dipping. But within seconds, she released the pressure on the stick that had created the stall in the first place and in a totally fearless move, she allowed the dive to increase their airspeed. He had explained how to do it at first, but she seemed to have no trouble at all figuring it out, and no lack of courage in following the procedure. Most young pilots were terrified at the drop and the sudden zero gravity. Ca.s.sie was awed by none of it, as the Jenny plummeted briefly, and when the jenny had gained just enough speed, she pushed the throttle, gave it power, and leveled out like a baby eagle, soaring gently back to where she wanted to be, without a murmur.

Nick had never been so impressed by anything he'd seen. And he made her do it again, to see if she could maintain the same cool hands and cool head, and quick reactions, or if it had just been beginner's luck. But the second stall and recovery were even smoother than the first, and she swooped him right back up again from a stall that even had him worried. She was good. She was very good. She was brilliant.

He had her do a few lazy eights then, an Immelmann, and their last lesson of the day was a spin recovery, which was not unlike the stall, but first she had to give it right rudder pedal to induce a spin to the right, and then left rudder pedal to recover. She did it perfectly, and Nick was grinning from ear to ear as he landed the plane, but so was Ca.s.sie. She had never had so much fun in her life, and her only complaint was that she had wanted to try barrel rolls and he wouldn't let her. He felt they had done enough for one day, and he'd told her they had to save something for next time. She wanted to learn a dead stick landing too, his specialty, which had earned him his nickname, but there was time for that too. There was time (or everything. She was a fantastic student.

He sat in the plane for a moment, looking at her, unable to believe how much she had picked up over the years, just by watching. All those times Pat had taken her up with him, or that Nick had flown her somewhere, every moment, every gesture, every procedure had been absorbed, and somehow, by watching them, she had learned how to do it. She really was what he had suspected she was all along, the ultimate natural. A pilot who was born to fly, it would have been a sacrilege to keep her from it.

"How was I?" She turned in her seat after they'd stopped, and he killed the engine.

"Terrible," he grinned at her, still unable to believe what he'd seen. She had a natural sense of their alt.i.tude, an uncanny sense of direction, an instinct for guiding the plane almost as much with her mind as with her hands. She had known exactly what she was doing. "I don't think I could ever fly with you again," he teased, but his face told her all she wanted to know, and she let out a whoop of joy on the silent airstrip. She had never been as happy in her entire life. And Nick was the best friend she had ever had. He had given her her life's dream, and this was only the beginning. "You're good, kid," he said quietly, and handed her another c.o.ke he had brought with him. She took a long swig, saluting him, and then handed it bade to her new instructor. "But don't let that go to your head. Those can be dangerous wonds. Never be overconfident, never over trust yourself, never a.s.sume you can do anything you want to. You can't. This bird is only a machine, and if your head gets too big, the ground will get too dose, and you'll wind up with a tree between your ears. Don't ever forget that."

"Yes, sir." But she was too happy to care about his warnings. She knew how careful she'd have to be, and she was prepared to be, but she also knew that she had been born to fly and now Nick knew it too, and maybe one day he'd convince her father. And in the meantime, she was going to learn every single thing she could and be the best pilot who had ever lived. Better than Jean Batten or Louise Thaden or any of the others. "When can we do this again?" she asked anxiously. All she wanted to do was go up again, and she didn't want to wait long to do it. Nick was paying for the fuel, and she didn't want it to cost him too much. But like an addict, she wanted more soon, and he knew it.

"You want to do this again tomorrow, right?" He grinned at her. He had been the same way when he was her age. In fact, he had been almost exactly her age when he floated all over the country, after the war, trying to get jobs at airports, and finally came to Illinois to fly for his old friend Pat O'Malley.

"I don't know, Ca.s.s." Nick thought about it for a moment. "Maybe we could do this again in a couple of days. I don't want Pat to start wondering why I'm taking out the Jenny. I don't exactly fly her much." And he definitely didn't want Fat to suspect them. He wanted her to get plenty of good solid lessons under her belt first, before they confronted him with her skill, of which there could be no question. She was a thousand times the pilot her brother was, a thousand times the pilot most people he had taught were. But they had to convince Fat of that, and they both knew that wasn't going to to be easy. be easy.

"Couldn't you tell him you're giving someone lessons out here. He doesn't have to know it's me. Then you'd have an excuse to take her out whenever you want to."

"And where's the money, miss? I wouldn't want your dad to think I'm cheating him." They took a cut on each other's profits, when they used each other's planes, or sometimes if Nick took charters or taught on time he would have otherwise used flying for O'Malley.

Ca.s.sie looked crestfallen at this. "Maybe I could pay you... a little bit from my savings..." She started to look seriously worried and Nick touched the bright red hair and ruffled it.

"Don't worry. I'll get her out. We'll do plenty of this. I promise." Ca.s.sie smiled gently up at him, and his heart did a little flip. It was all the payment he needed.

He helped her step from the plane, and noticed that there was a shady tree nearby. "Did you bring anything to eat?" She nodded, and they went to sit under it. She shared her sandwich with him, and he shared his Coca-Cola. He drank a lot of it, and unlike Pat, who liked a good whiskey now and then, Nick had never been much of a drinker. He spent too much time in the air to be able to afford to do much drinking. He was always getting hauled out of bed for an emergency somewhere, or a special mail flight, or a long distance cargo flight for anywhere from Mexico to Alaska. He couldn't have flown those runs if he'd been unexpectedly drunk or even hung over. And Pat was careful too. He never drank if he knew he'd be flying.

They talked about flying for a long time, and her family, and how much they had meant to him when he first came to Illinois. He said he had come out from New York just to work for her father.

"He was good to me during the war... I was such a kid... I was a d.a.m.n fool too. I'm glad you'll never have to get into something like that, dueling it out at ten thousand feet with a bunch of crazy Germans. It was almost like a game, sometimes it was hard to remember it was real... it was so d.a.m.n exciting." His eyes shone as he talked about it. For many of them, it had been the perfect time, and everything afterward had paled in comparison. Sometimes she thought her father felt that way, and she suspected Nick did.

"It must make everything else seem awfully dull... flying the Jenny... or cargo runs to California in the Handley can't exactly be exciting."

"No, it's not. But it's comfortable. It's where I need to be. I never feel as good on the ground, Ca.s.s, crazy as that sounds. That's my life up there." He glanced up at the sky as he said it. "It's what I do well," he sighed, and leaned back against the tree trunk where they were sitting, "the rest of it, I'm not so good at."

"Like what?" She was curious about him; she had known him all her life, but he had always heated her as a child, and now that they were sharing the secret of her flying, for the first time, they seemed almost equals.

"I don't know. I'm not so great at marriage, people... friends... except other pilots and the guys I work with."

"You've always been great to to us." She smiled innocently up at him, and he marveled at how young seventeen was. us." She smiled innocently up at him, and he marveled at how young seventeen was.

"That's different. You're my family. But I don't know... sometimes it's hard to relate to people who don't fly, it's hard to understand them, harder for them to understand me... particularly women." He grinned. It didn't bother him. It was the way his life was, and he was satisfied with it. There were ground people, those confined to earth, in their bodies and minds... and then there were the others.

"What about Bobby?" he asked her unexpectedly. He knew about her boyfriend. He had seen him often enough at the house when he stopped by there to see Pat, or came to dinner. "How would he feel about you flying like you do? You're good, Ca.s.s. If you learn right, you could really do it." But do what? That was the problem. What could a woman do, except maybe set records? "What would he say?" Nick persisted.