Читать книгу Love by Design - Christine Johnson - Страница 13

Chapter Five

“Ready?” Hunter yelled.

Dan gave the thumbs-up.

Hunter released the brake and the airplane rolled from the barn.

The morning had dawned clear and cold and calm. Perfect for the test flight. If Dan had left yesterday, he would have missed this. Maybe some good could come out of bad news after all. Fifty head of cattle was a big loss for a small operation like his pa’s. Dan would come through as he always had, but it would cut into his savings and his future. If this polar attempt got off the ground, he stood to make it all back and a whole lot more. A newspaper or magazine exclusive could pay in the tens of thousands of dollars.

Hunter taxied the plane toward the head of a grass and gravel runway, which in late January was more ice than grass or gravel. Good thing, considering the plane had the skids on instead of the wheels. Dan sure hoped Hunter could stop the plane after they landed or they’d have a quick trip into the snowbank at the end of the runway. The fuselage had a sturdy frame, but that kind of impact would damage any airplane.

With every bump, Dan’s nerves inched a level higher. He hadn’t set foot in an airplane since the accident. Now he didn’t even have control. Yes, the plane had dual controls, but Hunter was flying. Dan wasn’t to take control except under direction or in an emergency. The copilot’s wheel was right there in front of him, but he couldn’t touch it. He flexed his fingers, anxious to grab on to something and opted for the clipboard. His job was to log every second of the flight, from instrument readings to weather conditions to engine operation.

Hunter had installed every instrument available for an airplane, but some things still fell to chance even here. Near the pole, magnetic and gyroscopic compasses would operate differently, making them useless for finding direction. The flat white landscape and twenty-four-hour sunlight erased the horizon and gave no landmarks. Snow blindness, drift and imprecise means of direction-finding made for a treacherous trip. That didn’t even take into account weather issues—fog, updrafts, downdrafts and blizzards. Every element worked against them.

Today’s winter flight would give them the tiniest taste of what they’d face, except this landscape offered landmarks in buildings and trees, a blue sky and working compasses. The conditions were perfect. It was cold enough to tax the engines, yet calm and clear. If something did happen to one of the motors, this big plane would be a challenge to fly on a single engine. Many years of flying meant Dan knew every little thing that could go wrong. He usually scoured every inch of his plane before takeoff. He knew each strut and bolt. He knew which tended to loosen and which held fast. He didn’t know this plane.

For years, Daring Dan had ignored danger, had reveled in the thrill. Minor problems hadn’t fazed him, but causing someone’s death? That was something else entirely.

He glanced over at Hunter. The man exuded confidence despite the crash that had ended his transatlantic attempt. If not for the coming baby, he would have let his wife in the cockpit for the polar attempt. Dan didn’t understand that reasoning. He would never again put someone he cared for in peril. Agnes had been his latest in a long line of gals. Like the rest, she hadn’t touched the heart that he kept locked in its hangar. But he hadn’t thought twice about agreeing to teach her to fly, and look what happened. Never again.

He was not going to put Jen Fox in the cockpit of any airplane.

Hunter pulled the plane into line with the runway and accelerated. The roar of the huge twin engines literally hurt. Dan was glad he’d stuffed cotton into his ears, but he’d need more than that for the long flight to the North Pole.

The brake released, and they sped down the runway, bouncing and sliding on the skids. The plane was large and heavy. Was the runway long enough? Dan pressed back on the seat as the end loomed closer and closer. At the last second, Hunter nosed the plane up, and she cleared the snowbank and climbed into the crystal-blue sky.

That’s when the exhilaration rushed in. That feeling of invincibility had driven Dan to the skies over and over. Up here, the world and its troubles looked small. Up here, he had control. The initial thrill of rising on nothing but cloth and wood soon wasn’t enough. He’d learned stunts from fellow aviators, watched them crash and bettered the trick. Daring Dan did not fail. He hadn’t until November’s crash.

Today’s flight made him edgy. He had to write constantly to avoid the impulse to seize the wheel. Dan did not like giving the controls to anyone, but as they circled the tiny town and came back down for the landing, he had to admit Hunter knew his craft. He slowed their airspeed to just above what would send them into a stall. Then he dropped the plane to the runway. The skids hit, bounced and hit again. The claw brake dug in, jerking Dan forward, and they slid to a comfortable taxiing speed.

When Hunter turned the plane for the taxi back to the barn, Dan saw her. With her arms waving in that ragged mackinaw, Jen Fox grinned wider than a country mile.

* * *

“That was perfect,” Jen crowed after Jack killed the engines and crawled out of the plane.

She’d heard the plane take off on her way to the flight school to start her volunteer assignment and had run the three blocks so she didn’t miss a minute of the flight. The big bird had soared high against the rising sun, circled slowly overhead and then made a perfect landing. The engines didn’t hiccup once.

It had coasted into the big barn that they were using as a work area this winter since the school’s hangar was full of training airplanes and other equipment. The barn was also smaller and easier to heat. She’d hurried up the shoveled path between the school and the barn, arriving just as the pilot and copilot disembarked.

Jack hopped to the ground and removed his helmet, but instead of acknowledging her cheers, he met Wagner behind the tail. “Great run. A little touchy on takeoff, but she made it.”

Wagner had peeled off his helmet, pulling his auburn hair into a mass of curls. “Takeoff? That was a breeze compared to landing. That runway’s not a foot too long. Had me grabbing for the brake.”

Jack laughed. “Must feel strange not to have the controls.”

“You’re right about that, but I was there for you if anything went wrong.”

“I know you were.”

The men chattered away as if she wasn’t even there. Just like at the dinner party. What was it with men, anyway? Get them together over something mechanical, and everyone else might as well not be there.

Jen tromped across the barn, ignoring the poofs of years-old straw dust that rose with each step. A workbench and tables filled the extra space. Tools littered every tabletop. A handful of crates were stacked along the barn wall.

She stopped within reach, but they still didn’t notice her.

“Good flight!” she yelled.

That drew their attention.

“Jen.” Jack tugged off a glove and pushed back his jacket sleeve to check his wristwatch. “I didn’t expect to see you here this early.”

“I saw the plane take off and had to watch. Great flight.”

“Thanks.” Neither Jack nor Wagner was as jubilant as they’d been with each other.

“Great day for flying, isn’t it?” she hinted. “Practically anyone could take a plane up on a day like today.”

Wagner frowned. “Not a student.”

That man was going to be a thorn in her side. If she didn’t change his negative opinion, he was going to convince Jack not to let her train until summer. “Why not?”

“The field is solid ice,” Wagner shot back. “We’re fortunate we didn’t end up in the snowbank.”

“You’re skilled. Between the two of you, there was never a doubt.” Though Jen knew her odds of flying the expedition plane were slim, she wasn’t about to let Wagner win the argument. “That’s why Jack is such a great teacher. He can handle any conditions. Besides, students start with grass cutting.” That first step used a governor on the motor to keep the student pilot on the ground. “They don’t even get into the air. An icy runway won’t make a bit of difference.”

Wagner laughed. No, it was more like a derisive snort. “That shows how little you know, darling. On ice, you can do some serious damage grass cutting. I doubt Mr. Hunter is eager to lose one of his training planes before the season begins.”

She could have stomped on his finely honed superiority. Darling, indeed. She was not and never would be his darling. “Since you know so much, Wagner, maybe you’d like to demonstrate the proper way to practice on ice.”

His gaze narrowed.

Jack chuckled. “Enough of this, you two. I’m not bringing any of the trainers out of storage, Jen, so you can forget that crazy idea of yours. Flight lessons can wait until the weather breaks, so you might as well go home.”

She felt the disappointment clear to her bones. If she couldn’t get her license by April, she would have no chance at the backup spot for the polar attempt. Handling supplies might be a necessary part of an expedition’s success, but those people didn’t get their names in the record books. Her father wouldn’t be remembered as the source of her inspiration. No, she would not give up.

“But I can’t go home. I’m here to start on the expedition preparations, just like I said I would.”

“That work is back at the flight school.” Jack jerked a thumb in that direction and turned back to Wagner, who was looking at her with a very peculiar expression.

“You’re going to have to show me what to do,” she pointed out.

“To begin, I could sure use your help sorting out the supply orders. I brought Dan up to speed earlier this morning. He’ll show you what to do.”

Jen’s stomach tightened. “You want me to work with Wagner?”

“Actually, he’ll be a sort of supervisor,” Jack said.

Jen balked. “But I know my way around the school. I’ve worked with suppliers and placed orders for years.”

Jack gave her a dazzling smile. “That’s why we’re so glad you’re helping out. Thanks, Jen. You’re the best. Dan, why don’t you take her on over? I’m going to check the engines and then talk to Hendrick about their performance today. I’ll take that clipboard off your hands.”

At least Wagner looked as upset with this arrangement as she did. He gave over the clipboard with a lot of reluctance.

“I should go with you over to the plant.” Dan pulled cotton from each ear. “I took a lot of notes, listened carefully. I might have noticed something you didn’t.”

Jack scanned the paper on the clipboard. “Nope. Makes perfect sense. If Hendrick has any questions, we’ll come on over to the school.” He tucked the clipboard under his arm and headed for the open barn doors.

Jen glared at his retreating back. She and Wagner were expected to obey, as if they were in the military—or primary school. Though she’d never been good at following orders, this was Jack’s expedition. He had put out a lot of time and effort and funds. That gave him the right to call the shots. If she wanted to be part of the end result, she’d better learn to follow orders.

She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and followed Jack.

“After you, then,” Wagner snipped, apparently still perturbed at being shuttled off to supplies. He plunked that tattered old Stetson on his head and never broke a scowl.

That made her grin. Dan Wagner’s unhappiness was her joy.

“Why, thank you,” she said with her best imitation of Beatrice’s cultured elegance. “I do so appreciate good manners in a gentleman.”

She was pretty sure she heard him growl behind her.

* * *

That gal was going to drive Dan crazy. Not only had Jen Fox pulled him away from following up on the engine test, but she threatened to disrupt the entire expedition with her single-minded determination to get in the cockpit on the polar attempt. Sure, it started with lessons, but a reasonable student understood that training couldn’t begin until spring. No, her agenda clearly pointed to the expedition.

She sure didn’t like hearing that he was going to supervise her work. Dan had suspected that would be the case when Hunter proposed it earlier that morning, but the aviator had brushed off his concerns, saying she understood the situation completely.

Apparently, Hunter was the only person who did not understand the trouble he was bringing on board by agreeing to Jen Fox’s proposal. That gal would not let up until she got what she wanted.

As Dan pulled the barn doors closed and locked them, Hunter got into his old Model T and putted off to Simmons Aeromotor. That left Dan alone with Miss Fox. Her arms were crossed over that old mackinaw. The trousers bagged at the knees. Given her disheveled appearance, the pink-and-green knit hat looked so out of place that he had to scowl to keep from laughing.

She eyed him with a mixture of indignation and curiosity, her expressive mouth twisted into a smirk, as if she figured she had the upper hand. Since she apparently worked for the Hunters when the school was open, she probably did. That didn’t mean he was going to let her stomp all over him. Dan liked challenges. He intended to break through that crusty shell of hers to discover if there was a woman inside.

“Well?” Her hazel eyes sparked in the sun, defying him to say just one thing that would set her off again. He opted instead for a little Western gentility.

With a tip of the finger to his Stetson, he nodded toward the flight school. “Why don’t you lead the way, miss? You’re more familiar with the layout around here than I’ll ever be.”

His statement was ridiculous. Not only had he already received a tour of the facility, but she knew he’d gone over the paperwork with Jack earlier. Moreover, even an addle-brained gal would notice that only one path led from the barn to the school. Jen Fox was far from witless. Thus far she’d proven a tenacious opponent. Still, she seemed to appreciate that he’d let her take the reins.

Her expression softened. A little. “I also happen to know a whole lot more about ordering supplies than you ever will.”

He choked down a retort. He wasn’t a novice who’d never seen a plane before. He’d done his fair share of locating aviation parts. The owner of an airplane had to know suppliers. A squadron commander in the Great War learned how to claw parts out of anyone and anywhere. But pointing out his experience would only irritate her, so he swept out an arm.

“All right, darling.” He threw on the cowboy charm that worked wonders on most women. “I’ll put myself in your capable hands.”

She looked a little suspicious but must have decided to take him at his word, for she headed toward the school at a rapid pace.

Dan stayed right on her heels. “Worked here long?”

“A few years. In season, of course. I volunteered before that, once I got out of high school, that is.”

He didn’t care to guess how long ago that might be. She looked fairly young but not a girl, maybe in her early twenties. “Is that when you got interested in flying?”

“No.”

The path widened, so he hustled to walk by her side. She didn’t spare him a glance.

“Then what did grab your interest?”

“Darcy.” Her pace slowed a fraction. “Jack’s wife. My father and I—” She turned her head, clearly battling emotion. “We saw her fly the very first time. I wanted to learn how.”

Dan was glad to see the woman had some feelings other than anger, but her statement didn’t quite add up. “My understanding is that Mrs. Hunter learned to fly before the transatlantic attempt. That was quite a few years ago.” He calculated exactly how much. “At least six or seven years. What took you so long?”

Her shoulders tensed. “First of all, I was still in school. Then I couldn’t afford lessons, all right? That’s why I didn’t do it before now. I was setting aside money, but then—” She broke off and ran to the door of the flight school.