A Flying Affair (23 page)

“It just got me thinking that there's a lot I haven't told you, and now I'm feeling guilty after hearing that.”

“What else?”

“San Antonio, for one, when the Patriots broke up. Do you know the real reason?”

Mittie glanced at Ames, who tapped his wristwatch and made a rolling motion with his hand to hurry. “Ames said it was a misunderstanding. Why are you even bringing this up now? Can't it wait?”

Calista grabbed her arm and looked her square in the eye. “Ames lost the entire cut of our San Antonio gig in a lousy club that had a little game going in the back. Every dime.”

Mittie's head scrolled back to the conversation with Ames. “He said the group there wouldn't let the Patriots fly, only you.”

Calista laughed as Ames came up. “It was great seeing you, too, Kentucky. May the best girl win.”

“Let's get together before the start of the race, okay?”

Calista said, “Sure thing,” and scampered off.

Ames asked what the big secret was. “Just telling me the latest about her love life. Let's get going.”

“You know I think instead of flying just around here, you should get some experience in the desert.”

“As long as I get to fly over the ocean at least once.”

He outlined a plan on the map that would take them to Temecula, which had both small mountains and desert terrain. “There's no airfield, but a fella there has a makeshift runway and a fuel station. You okay with that?”

She nodded and buckled up, oriented herself again to the differences from other planes she'd flown, and studied the map one final time before takeoff.

Once they were in the air, turquoise blue water swirled below them, waves sweeping in all the way from China and dashing against the rocks. Mittie hugged the Los Angeles shoreline for a good twenty miles, soaring and dipping like she'd only dreamed, pushing the conversation with Calista to the far corners of her mind. She nosed up and headed southeast toward the desert and the parched brown hills. Two hours later, she landed on the bumpy turf Ames pointed out.

When they got out, Ames draped his arm around her shoulders. “What did you think?”

“There's more vibration than I'm used to.”

“Bigger engine and more power is what you're feeling.”

A couple of other things had come to her attention, too, that she hadn't noticed at first. The gauges didn't have a shiny new look to them, and the seat was a good fit, but not new. When she asked Ames about them, he shrugged. “I put the bulk of the money into the parts that would count. Aviation prices are skyrocketing with all the interest, and we were working on a short deadline.”

“And I appreciate every bit of what you've done. Truly I do.” She took off her helmet and shook her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. “Jeepers, it's hot.”

“Nothing like it's going to be in Arizona. That's why I wanted you to get some desert experience. Let's get a couple of rooms here and let you fly over the San Bernardino Mountains tomorrow since that's the first leg of the race.”

“Bobby and Victor have already booked me a room in Santa Monica. They're coming in tonight. If we left now, we'd make it.”

“You'd be flying into the sun. I think it's too risky. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

They walked the few blocks into town where she found a pay phone and called the hotel to leave a message for Bobby and Victor that she had a change of plans. That night, they ate burritos in a cantina downtown and afterward strolled under a star-​s
peckle
d sky past a Spanish mission. They ended on a high ridge that looked across miles of moonlit mountains and a vast sparse land whose mounds of prickly cactus resembled a host of porcupines. Ames pulled Mittie into his arms, his kisses warm, the rigors of the past two months melting between them. They sat on a rocky ledge where she nestled against his shoulder.

“This was a good idea, getting away from all the people. Did I ever thank you for believing in me?”

“I've always believed in you. In us. And I hope that you'll fall in love with California as I have.”

“I won't be here long enough to do that, but I have been wondering if you'd heard from Lester and Shorty lately.”

“What made you think of them?”

“Seeing Calista again reminded me of the good times we used to have, the poker games you guys used to play. Where are they now?”

“Can't say as I know. And I'd prefer to think only of you for now.” He nibbled her ear. “Where were we?”

She didn't answer, Calista's revelation grating in her bones. A twinge of something niggled at her, and she remembered the guy in the welcome hangar that made Ames scowl. Was something brewing that made him suggest bringing her to the desert? She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, gazing at the shadowy cacti, which now looked like purple and blue bruises on the desert floor.

Ames ran his hand along her cheek. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Just thinking about the race. I'd like to get to Clover Field by noon tomorrow, if that's all right.”

“Sure, doll. Probably best for me, too. I'll have to catch a train back to San Diego and get the car.”

“I thought you had someone helping you with that beforehand.”

“Didn't work out, but you'll be busy mingling and won't even notice I'm gone.”

“You're probably right. When will you get back?”

“Early evening, I hope.”

They walked back to the center of town to the small flat-roofed inn where Ames gave her a lingering kiss at the door and said goodnight.

Once in the room, Mittie remembered she hadn't called her parents to tell them she'd arrived. She didn't relish going out on the street alone to the phone she'd used earlier, but the clerk had told her it was the closest one. It was past midnight in Kentucky, and she wanted to slap herself for not remembering to call earlier, but her daddy picked up right away.

“Are you all right, sugar?”

“I'm fine. It's sunny and warm here, perfect for trying out the new plane.”

“Any problems?” His voice held an edge of caution.

“Not a one. I met some of the other women and am looking forward to seeing Bobby and Victor tomorrow. You have the schedule, and you know I'll call whenever I can.”

“I do, sugar. The reason I ask if there were any problems is that I got an unusual call this afternoon from the assembly plant.”

Mittie's neck hairs prickled. “Oh?”

“Ames cleared out his personal things and took the plane before settling up on the bill.”

She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting Ames to be standing there. “Should I ask him about it?”

“I'm sure it's an oversight, but I thought you should be aware. I don't want anything to get in the way of your being in the race.”

“Ames is going to San Diego to get the car tomorrow so he can follow the race, so I'm sure he'll clear things up then.”

“Good enough. Your mother and I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Back in the room, Mittie slipped out of her flight pants, the feel of them still sticky from the heat, and got ready for bed, uneasy and uncertain about many things.

Mittie awoke from a heavy sleep and couldn't shake the groggy feeling or the weight of her uncertainty about Ames. More than once during breakfast, she almost mentioned her conversation with her dad, but an urgency churned in her gut to get in the air and back to Clover Field. Flying cleared her head, and they arrived just after noon to a complete transformation from only the day before. The grandstands were set up, the grounds swarming with people. Workers. Newspaper reporters with cameras. Mechanics. Men in suits and hats. Men in coveralls.

Ames sent her off alone to look for Bobby and Victor while he took the little canary plane to do some fine-tuning and ready it for the race. Mittie wove through the crowd toward the race headquarters, where it was just as frenetic inside as out with a bank of phone lines set up, wire strung everywhere. How would she ever find Bobby and Victor in such a throng?

They found her first, Bobby coming up on her right, Victor in tow. After the
good to see you, glad you made it, how's the plane
banter, Victor said, “Can't get over what a madhouse this is. Are you all set for tomorrow?”

“I will be. I've signed in and have all the instructions—just waiting on the welcome dinner tonight. Come on; you need to see the plane.”

Once outside, Bobby said, “We saw Peach earlier. She's so excited I don't think her feet ever touched the ground. Quite a machine she's got.”

“Gee, that's a real confidence booster.”

“I didn't mean it to sound that way. I'm sure with the specs I've seen of yours that it's superb, too.”

When they got to the service hangar, a mechanic approached. “You the gal from Kentucky?”

“I am, and these are my sponsors for the race.”

“Fella that brought it in wanted me to give you a message. Said his ride showed up and he'd catch you later.”

“Did he service the plane?”

“Can't help you there. Got my own rigging to check.”

The three of them looked at each other, the bubble of anxiety that had ridden under Mittie's ribs all day now an effervescent sea.
What ride?
Ames said he was taking the train.

“Thanks, anyway.” She took a deep breath and walked to her plane. “Here it is.” She ran her hand along the nose. “I'll check the maintenance log and see if Ames recorded anything.”

She did a leg up on the strut and retrieved the log. No fuel or oil check recorded. Bobby, though, said he'd be glad to do a thorough check, and rocked back on his heels. “Have you talked to your father?”

“Late last night. I told him I was looking forward to seeing you two today.”

Victor scowled. “I wish we'd timed this a little better. Let's go somewhere so we can talk.”

Once they'd found the airfield coffee shop and were seated, Victor told her a message from her dad was waiting for them when they'd arrived at their hotel, along with the one she'd left. “Seems the fellow in San Diego that rented Ames the facility and provided the workers to build the plane hasn't been paid. If it's not settled up today, he's going to file a complaint with the race officials.”

“Daddy thought it was probably an oversight on Ames' part.”

“He didn't want to alarm you by telling too much, but it puts all of us in a precarious position.”

“Perhaps Ames is taking care of it while he's down there getting his car.” Her words carried more confidence than the doubt knotted in her gut.

Bobby, silent up until now, said, “Mittie, the situation is grave. If you take the plane without clearance, there may be legal repercussions.”

Her jaw tightened. “Too many things aren't adding up. First Ca­lista, then a trip to the desert. I think Ames is avoiding someone, that he's in some kind of trouble.”

“What about Calista?”

“Something she told me yesterday. Rumors that Ames might have lost some money gambling.”
Her daddy's money.

Bobby nodded. “I've suspected that before, the odd comment here and there.”

The air in the room grew thin, the sick feeling in her stomach swelling. Calista knew. Bobby knew. Everyone but her. “This isn't a good time to find out that my friends have waited until now to inform me.”

Bobby blew out a breath. “It was just talk. I had no proof. He lived at your farm for two months and your father vouched for him. We had hoped to talk to Ames and find out the situation from him.”

“I'm open to suggestions.”

Victor said, “Your father is prepared to wire the money if Ames hasn't paid by five o'clock today”—he pulled his pocket watch from his vest—“which is precisely four hours from now. Paying for services rendered is the only way to ensure your place in the race, but the decision is yours.”

“I can't believe Ames would do this. It was for his benefit as well as mine.”

Victor said, “Human nature is a funny thing. More than likely he thought he could double the money your dad already paid in. I imagine he's in a bit of a panic. Perhaps even desperate.”

Anger coiled in her gut. Her daddy had already paid for the plane once. Now he was going to have to pay again. The truth gripped her, and she wanted to scream. How could Ames do this to her? Images flashed through her head. Nebraska and his dishonesty there with Mr. Nance. The phone calls offering excuses for why he couldn't come home. Always making it sound like he was doing things for her benefit. Her hand went to the locket. Was that a lie, too?

“Mittie.” Bobby's voice came gently through her thoughts. “Your father wants this for you. He believes in you; he's told me time and again. I know it's none of my affair, but I think you want it, too. Don't let the opportunity slip from your fingers.”

“It would be selfish of me to assume daddy should pay for my mistake in judging Ames' character.”

“We've all been duped into trusting people who didn't deserve that honor. There are nineteen other women who are counting on you. Do it for them. And for yourself.”

The yoke that bore down on her shoulders lifted. “You're right.”

Victor's concern was that the factory owner who'd called was also trying to bilk them. He offered to drive to San Diego and check the validity of the claim. Rather than have her daddy wire the money directly to a stranger, Victor would collect it and carry it himself. He didn't have much time, so he hurried off, leaving Bobby to do the maintenance check on the plane and go with Mittie for a test flight.

Before Victor left, she said, “I don't know how I can ever repay you.”

“Perhaps Ames will come through.”

The whirlpool in her stomach told her he wouldn't.

Bobby found the source of the vibration in the plane and replaced a couple of parts before the two of them took it for a test flight. They got to the hotel with not much time to spare before the evening banquet. Mittie left a message at the desk for Calista with her room number, not sure if she would catch her. Just as Mittie put on one of the fancy frocks she'd brought, a knock sounded.

Mittie opened the door, and Calista breezed in.

“Hey, Kentucky, nice dress.”

“Thanks for coming. You look gorgeous, but then you always do. About our conversation earlier—there have been developments, which I won't go into, but I have very good reason to believe you were telling me the truth about Ames and San Antonio. What I want to know is why you didn't tell me before.”

“I honestly don't know. I wanted to partially get back at Ames, but then he had that wreck and you were so starry-eyed over him after he stayed at your farm, it didn't seem right. I was hoping for your sake he'd changed.”

“He did seem different then, but I could also sense a restlessness in him. I thought it was to get back to his work, but now I don't know. It's like he's happiest when he's adrift.”

“He's going to be adrift for sure if those guys in the hangar were right about his gambling. Is everything all right with your plane?”

“It is now. Another guy who's adrift went over it.”

“You must be talking about Bobby.”

Mittie nodded, a warm feeling settling in her chest.

Calista went to the mirror and fixed a smudge of her lipstick with her pinkie. “I don't mean to tell you how to run your life, but if you'd get your head out of the clouds about Ames, I think you'd see that our dear Bobby is pining for you.”

“That's insane. You've had your eyes on Bobby since Kansas City, and if I'm not mistaken, he's in love with you.” Mittie pulled on her long gloves and grabbed her evening bag.

“Bobby's swell, but he's not in love with me. I let that fantasy run away with me for a while, but nothing ever clicked.” She grabbed her handbag and swiveled her hips. “All I'm going to say is that you need to open your eyes, darlin'.”

What Calista suggested about Bobby was ridiculous, of course. She knew he was fond of her, but pining after her? Hardly. And it wasn't something she even wanted to dwell on with the race starting in less than a day.

Mittie was glad she hadn't mentioned anything to Ames about her conversation with her dad. If he suspected she was aware of the fiasco, he might stay away to save face. Her faith in him might be shattered, but in her inmost being, she felt Ames still cherished being a part of the race. And she did want to hear his explanation. He deserved that opportunity at least.

He still hadn't arrived by the start of the banquet hosted by the National Exchange Club. It was a gala affair with cameramen and other press reporters lingering about, chatting with the other girls decked out in their finery—all except Pancho, who came in a men's tuxedo complete with a red carnation in the lapel. The tension was palpable, prerace jitters, but also one of camaraderie, each woman honored to be there. And Mittie wasn't the only one who'd had a snag in her plans. One of the women told about picking up her new plane and suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning before touching down and having an emergency revision made to deliver fresh air to the cockpit. One contender was still waiting for her plane to arrive, and another hadn't even shown up yet. It was a mad scramble for all of them, cobbled-together hopes and dreams.

When the time came to eat, the chair reserved for Ames remained empty. No one had seen him, including the garage owner in San Diego where Victor had relinquished the money and obtained a manifest of the parts and labor and a receipt. The chicken was baked dry, as was Mittie's throat, but she was determined not to let circumstances ruin her evening. As the waiters served slices of apple pie a la mode, Ames, his hair still damp from the shower, his tie slightly askew, slipped into the chair beside Mittie.

Her heart skipped. He made it. This was not a man who had deliberately set out to hurt her.
That smile.
There was a logical explanation. There had to be.

He leaned in and whispered, “Have I missed anything?”

“Not yet.” Restraint from asking him a million questions tore at her insides as the welcome was given and each of the women and their sponsors were introduced.

“Mittie Humphreys, from Louisville, Kentucky, flying a custom mono-wing in the light aircraft division.”

She rose and nodded, then held out her hand to indicate Bobby and Victor as her sponsors. When Calista was introduced, she gave a flirty wave, her Marcel waves framing her pixie face. Her flapper headpiece with copper-colored feathers matched her slim silky dress. When she made eye contact with Mittie, it wasn't a challenge but the look of a sister. A best friend.

When it was over, Bobby leaned in and whispered his room number. “In case you need me.” She bit her lower lip, emotion welling up. She blinked twice and told him she'd see him in the morning.

She turned to Ames. “Could we go for a walk?”

“Sure, doll, but I thought you'd want to get your beauty sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“It is, isn't it? Perhaps the biggest day of my life so far.” She worked to control her tone.
Stay calm.
“There's a nice breeze off the ocean. Let's enjoy it while we can.” She walked across the lobby toward the glass exit doors. His shoes tapped on the marble floor as he hurried to catch up and held the door for her.

“It's a big day for me, too, and I need to get out to Clover Field early for one last look at the plane.”

She strolled past a fountain and waved at a couple of the girls who were having a smoke and laughing. “It's not necessary. Bobby's already done a thorough check and serviced it.”

“York? Why was he messing with it?” He grabbed her arm and stopped her.

She smiled. “Not messing, sweetie. Doing what you were supposed to do before you left.”

“I'm your ace mechanic, remember? He's not familiar with the plane. I'd be surprised if he's even seen an engine like that baby has.”

“He did mention that it was unusual. It took some doing, but he got rid of that vibration I noticed earlier.” She didn't mean to antagonize him by mentioning Bobby, but facts were facts.

“It was one of the things I was going to fix. I sure as blue blazes don't need him tinkering with it.”

“It's my plane. I assumed I could have whoever I want looking at it.”

“You've certainly taken a cavalier attitude since York rolled into town.”

She blew out a long breath. They'd walked far enough away that no people milled about. Time to ask the tough questions. “Ames, this has nothing to do with Bobby, but there is something we need to talk about.”

He pulled her toward him, his arms around her waist. “All we need to talk about is what happens next. For you and me after the race. You know I love it here, and I've nursed the hope that you would, too.”

She stiffened. How could she have been so blind? Every time tension coiled between them, he turned on the charm, thinking that a kiss and that cow-eyed expression could melt away anything. She gripped each of his arms, removed them from around her waist, and stepped back.