A Refuge at Highland Hall (17 page)

He pulled in a deep breath, allowing the strength of that commitment to flow through him again. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out the letter from Penny. He'd picked it up almost an hour ago, but he hadn't been ready to read it until he peeled away this first layer of grief for his lost friend.

He sniffed and tore open the envelope.

July 25, 1915

Dear Alex,

I hope this letter finds you well, and you are enjoying a day as beautiful as the one we are experiencing here at Highland. The warm weather has been a great boon for our crops and gardens, and we are taking full advantage of it. The German prisoners continue working in the fields, bringing in a wonderful harvest. It looks as though we will have enough food to supply the estate and the village of Fulton.

Thank you for your letters. It was good to read about your outing to the beach with your friend. I'm glad you had some time off from flying. I'm sure you need a break now and again. It's wonderful to know you've become good friends with the men in your squadron. I'm sure that's a comfort when you are so far from home. It's an honor to keep you, and all the men there with you, in my prayers.

Alex's eyes grew misty again, and he had to blink a few times before he could continue. If she only knew how much he was counting on those prayers for himself and the other men.

I'm glad the photographs arrived safely and you are enjoying them. Thank you for your kind words. I'm not sure I'll ever dress like that again, but it was a magical day I'll never forget. Do you have a photograph you could send me?

Pleasing warmth spread through Alex's chest as he read that line again. He had a photograph that was taken when he earned his wings at Upavon in June. He'd put it in his next letter.

Much has happened here in the last week. Clark Dalton, who is my cousin Sarah's husband and the head gardener at Highland, has enlisted. He is leaving for training on Thursday. Sarah is trying to be brave, but I know she is terribly worried about him.

My cousin William will be going to London to join an official committee that will be making recommendations to the government about the food supply. They hope to help the country deal with shortages and prepare for rationing, if needed. We're not sure how long he'll have to be away, but that means Julia will have to manage the day-to-day running of Highland. It will be quite a heavy responsibility, but I think she is up to the task, and of course we will do all we can to help her.

William's son, Andrew, was sent home from school because he was caught cheating on an exam, and I'm afraid it's not the first time. Andrew doesn't get along well with the other boys. Yesterday he got into a fistfight with Donald over an unkind remark. I was nearly knocked to the ground when I tried to separate them. Fortunately, Mr. McTavish, our steward, stepped in, and that put an end to it. William spoke to Andrew about it, but I worry what will happen when his father goes to London.

We've added someone else to our household, Clark's aunt Agatha. Her home is in Windermere, in the Lake District. Sarah went up three months ago to stay with her. But now that Clark is enlisting, it was decided Sarah should come home and bring Aunt Agatha with her. She made it clear on her first day here that she is not fond of children. But she usually stays in her room, and I am determined to win her over in time. The children have made cards and picked flowers for her. Unfortunately, we learned too late that she is allergic to most flowers, so we've returned to cards, poems, and pictures. We will succeed!

I know my troubles are nothing compared to the trials you must face each day. I've been keeping up with news about the war, but I'm not sure we hear the full story. William says the War Office wants to keep morale high, and that impacts how much is reported. I'm praying for victory soon and a safe return for you and all our brave men.

Well, it's late here. The house is quiet, and I am sitting in my favorite spot in my room, looking out over the parkland from my window seat. The moon is full, casting soft blue light over the quiet scene. It all looks so peaceful, and that makes it hard to believe only a few hundred miles away there are battles taking place. My hope and prayer is that you are doing well and enjoying a similar peaceful view tonight.

With warm thoughts and ceaseless prayers,

Penny

Alex closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath, savoring the comfort of Penny's words.

Penny stopped at Kate's open bedroom door and looked inside. She didn't want to disturb her sister if she was sleeping, but she found Kate sitting up in bed with a soft green blanket covering her rounded midsection, legs, and feet.

Kate grimaced at the needlework she held in her hands, then muttered something Penny couldn't hear and plucked at the threads.

“May I come in?”

Kate looked up. “Yes, please. I'm about to go mad from boredom.”

Penny smiled and held out an envelope as she crossed the room. “Then here's something to brighten your day, a letter from Jon.”

Kate's eyes lit up, and she laid her needlework aside. “Thank goodness. That's just what I need.”

Penny passed her Jon's letter, then slipped her hand into her skirt pocket and wrapped her fingers around the letter that had just arrived from Alex. She was eager to read it, but she had decided to deliver her sister's letter first.

Kate looked her way. “Do you mind if I read this now?”

“Not at all. I have a letter too.” She hesitated, and her cheeks warmed.

Kate quickly tore open Jon's envelope. “Let's both read our letters, and then we can visit.”

Penny bit her lip and pressed down her disappointment. She'd hoped Kate would ask her who had written her. That would make it easier for her to confide in her sister.

She released a soft sigh and sat in the chair next to Kate's bed. She loved her sister, truly she did. Since Kate had fallen in love with Jon and taken all the children into their home, she'd softened and become more thoughtful. But the strain of her difficult pregnancy and the separation from Jon seemed to make her a bit self-focused again.

Penny couldn't blame her. Spending weeks resting in bed would be a trial for anyone, even if it was best for the baby.

Penny opened the envelope from Alex and unfolded his letter. Before she read the first line, her sister gasped, and Penny looked up. “What is it?”

“They want to send Jon to France,” Kate whispered, a tremor in her voice.

Penny stared at Kate, hardly able to process her words. “I thought he was needed at St. George's.”

Kate looked down at the letter. “He says the number of casualties is much higher than expected, and there's a terrible shortage of doctors in the field clinics and hospitals. They're asking all the younger doctors to take a six-month rotation in France to give our injured men the best opportunity of survival.”

“So it's decided? He's going to France?”

“I don't know.” Kate continued reading aloud. “ ‘The single men will be going first, so I hope I will not be called upon until after the baby comes.' ” Kate's voice choked off. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth and broke down.

Penny rose and wrapped her arms around her sister, holding her while she cried. “I'm sorry, Kate. I know this is hard, so hard.”

Kate clung to Penny, her hot tears wetting Penny's dress at the shoulder. Finally, Kate's tears slowed. Penny released her sister, then passed her a handkerchief from the bedside table.

“Thank you.” Kate blotted her cheeks. “At least he doesn't have to go right away.”

“Yes. He'll be here when the baby comes. That is what's most important.”

Kate sniffed and blinked away a few more tears. “Maybe the war will end soon, and he won't have to go to France at all.”

Penny glanced away. From what she'd read in the newspaper and heard in conversations with William and Clark, an early end to the war was unlikely. But she didn't want to steal that hope from Kate. She looked back and sent her a faint smile. “We can pray it does.”

Kate's face brightened. “Yes. I've been praying for the troops and for victory, but I'll double those prayers now. If we do win the war in the next six months, then Jon might not have to go and all the troops would be home before Easter.

Penny reached for her sister's hand and gave it a squeeze. “I hope so, but whatever happens, we'll be all right. We have each other and our home here. Nothing is going to change that.”

Kate nodded. “If Jon has to go, I'm sure he'll be fine, just fine.” Her gaze fell to the letter Penny held in her hand. “Whom is your letter from?”

Warmth rose in Penny's face again, along with a slow smile. “Alex Goodwin.”

Kate's eyes widened. “Really?”

Penny nodded, suddenly uncertain what to say.

“I know you and the children sent him that package, but I didn't realize he'd replied.”

“This is his third letter.” Penny's smile spread wider.

“Well, that sounds promising.”

“His letters have been…quite friendly.”

Kate's eyes danced. “Penny, that's wonderful. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I wasn't sure if I should say anything yet, especially after what happened with Theo. I didn't want you to think I was a hopeless romantic.”

“I'd never think that.” Kate's expression softened. “I'm sorry about Theo. I know he was fond of you, and we all thought the friendship might develop into something more.” She gave her head a slight shake. “I still can't believe he's engaged to a Frenchwoman.”

“It's all right.” Penny waved away her sister's words and sat in the chair beside Kate's bed. “I'm sure she's lovely. And the truth is, Theo never made any promises to me. I was the one who had my heart set on romance. I feel foolish now for allowing myself to believe he truly cared.”

Sympathy flooded Kate's eyes. “You're not foolish, Penny.”

“Maybe not, but I definitely don't want to make a mistake like that again.” She glanced at Alex's letter. “I was hoping you might give me some advice about how to handle things with Alex.”

“Of course, I'd be happy to.” Kate shifted toward Penny, her eyes bright. “Tell me about his letters. Has he given any clear signals he wants to deepen your friendship?”

“He said he thinks of me often, and he asked me to send my photograph.”

“Oh, that sounds promising.”

“Yes, it does.” Penny couldn't help releasing a soft sigh.

Kate's expression grew more serious. “Sweet words are fine, but it's what's in his heart that truly matters.” She thought for a moment, then looked back at Penny. “I was impressed by his manners and conversation when he stayed with us in London.”

Penny's smile bloomed again. “So was I.”

“He was very kind to the children.”

“Yes, remember how he went up and searched for Irene during the air raid? And then he stayed on to help us pack up the house before we left.”

Kate leaned back against her pillows. “Very admirable. What about his faith? Does it seem genuine?”

“He mentioned memorizing the verses I sent in my letter, and he always asks me to pray for him and the men in his squadron.”

“That sounds positive, and I know Jon thinks a great deal of him.” Kate smoothed her hand over the blanket, then looked back at Penny. “He sounds like a fine man, but I wouldn't make any promises to him until you spend more time together.”

Penny's spirits deflated a bit. “Yes, I suppose you're right.”

“Perhaps we could ask William and Julia to invite him to Highland the next time he's in England.”

“I already mentioned that idea, and he said he'd like to come, but he doubts he'll have leave any time soon.”

“Then you'll just have to keep writing and get to know him that way.”

“I suppose so.”

“Don't look so glum. This war can't go on forever. Alex will come back, and you'll have more time together.”

“I hope so.” Penny glanced at his letter again, trying to keep her fears at bay, but it was impossible. She reached for her sister's hand again. “Pray for him, Kate. He said he can't tell me the details, but they've already lost some of the pilots in his squadron.”

Kate tightened her hold on Penny's hand. “I will. I promise.” She sent her a fleeting smile. “And you'll pray for Jon?”

“Of course. Always.” She leaned forward and hugged her sister once more, drawing strength and comfort from their embrace.

Would their prayers be enough to protect Alex and Jon? Could they truly look forward to being reunited with them, or was that only a foolish dream of two women hoping for the safe return of the men they loved?

Penny stilled.

Loved? Did she…love Alex?

They might not know each other well, but they shared a special connection, one that could grow into something deeper if they opened their hearts to the possibility…and if Alex survived the war.

“W
ake up, Goodwin!” Someone shook Alex's shoulder.

He rolled over and squinted up at Private McCall. “What is it?”

“Commander Longmore wants to see you in his office—now.”

Alex swallowed a groan and rolled out of bed. Five minutes later, he strode down the dimly lit path at the side of the airfield toward the commander's office. Lights glowed from the three small windows, and he heard voices inside.

He knocked, and the commander called him in. Alex stepped through the doorway. Three other pilots—Wilson, Ross, and Mills—stood around Longmore's desk. They looked his way as he approached.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes. Now that you're all here, we can get started. I received a call on our direct line from the Admiralty. They picked up signals from two Zeppelins heading back across the Channel. They believe they're headed toward Evere, just outside of Brussels.” Longmore focused on Alex. “I want you and Ross to try to intercept them before they reach the air shed.”

Adrenaline pumped through Alex, bringing him fully awake, and he nodded.

Longmore shifted his gaze to Wilson and Mills. “I want you two to fly toward the sheds at Evere. If they get past Goodwin and Ross in the air, you might be able to destroy them on the ground.”

Mills nodded, an eager look in his eyes. Wilson frowned and rubbed his chin. He was generally a bit more cautious than the others, but he was a highly skilled pilot.

Alex's shoulders tensed as he considered the mission. Flying at night with limited vision would be more challenging than a daylight mission, but if it meant he had a chance to take down a Zeppelin, it was worth the risk.

Longmore spread out the map on his desk and spent the next few minutes detailing the information he'd learned from the Admiralty and advising them on the best routes for the mission.

“I've already sent word to the mechanics to prepare your airplanes. Gather your gear as quickly as possible. There's no time to lose.”

“Yes, sir.” Alex saluted and turned toward the door as the other three pilots filed out ahead of him.

“Goodwin,” Longmore called.

Alex turned and met the commander's steady gaze.

“You made a name for yourself, blowing up the air shed at Düsseldorf. Churchill asked that you be assigned to this mission.”

Surprise rippled through Alex. “Churchill asked for me?”

“That's right. We're counting on you to do what's needed.”

Alex's chest swelled and he stood straighter. “Yes, sir. I'll give it my best.”

Longmore walked toward Alex. “Stay focused and alert. We want to take down those Zeppelins, but I don't want to lose any more pilots or airplanes in the process.”

Alex gave a firm nod. “Yes, sir.”

Longmore clamped his hand on Alex's shoulder. “Go on, then. I'll be waiting for a report as soon as you return.”

Alex strode out of the office and back toward his room to collect what he needed.

Fifteen minutes later, he climbed aboard his Morane, pulled down his goggles, and tucked the scarf Penny had sent around his neck and into his flight jacket. He touched the eagle wired to his control panel, reminding himself of the verses and saying a quick prayer.

This was an important mission, and he was wise enough to know it would take more than natural skill and good luck to pull it off.

On his left, Ross waved from the cockpit of his plane, then taxied down the airfield and took off into the darkness.

“Take care of yourself, Goodwin,” Meddis called from where he stood in front of the plane. Lines creased his face as he swung the propeller. The motor sputtered to life, and the smell of burnt castor oil filled the cockpit.

Alex checked his instruments once more by the dim light on the control panel. He glanced at his watch and noted the time, just after two-thirty in the morning. Lifting his arm, he waved to Meddis to signal readiness for takeoff. The mechanic saluted, and Alex returned the salute, then sent his plane roaring down the bumpy airfield and into the night sky.

The lights of the runway flares flickered then disappeared as he rose through the swirling fog. The cold wind and vibrations from the motor sent a rush of energy through him. The plane lifted past the clouds and into the clear night sky. A three-quarter moon and a thousand distant stars lit the canopy overhead. Alex searched to his right and left, looking for Ross, but he didn't see him. He scanned the sky once more. Had Ross discovered a problem with his plane? Had he turned back to St. Pol?

He swallowed and focused on his instruments again. Only five minutes into his flight and he was already on his own. He tried to shake off his concern. Ross was a good pilot. He would be all right and so would Alex. He was used to flying solo.

That thought brought a few lines from Penny's last letter to mind.
“It's a comfort to remember you don't fly alone. The Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth, flies with you. You are never out of His care. And remember, you are always in my thoughts and prayers.”

His muscles relaxed, and warmth flowed through him, boosting his courage.

He flew tonight for Penny and the children, for his sister Lindy, and for all the others back home in England. And he flew for Someone else as well.
I put myself in Your hands, Lord. Lead me and guide me tonight.

Calm settled over his sprit. With his mind clear and his prayers said, he could focus on the mission. He checked his instruments and headed north toward Dixmude, passing over the area where he'd successfully knocked out a long-range gun the week before.

Fifteen minutes into his flight, he spotted a pencil-slim, silver shape floating into the clouds far to the north past Ostend. He gripped the controls and leaned forward, squinting and trying to see it more clearly, but it vanished into the mist. His nerves tingled. Was it a Zeppelin or just an oddly shaped cloud?

He pushed up his goggles and rubbed his eyes, then replaced the goggles and searched the sky again. He didn't see anything, but he banked northeast, following the path of the ghostly vision, just in case.

Two minutes later, his breath snagged in his throat. The strange vision appeared again, and this time there was no doubt in his mind. Moonlight glowed off the back of the long, silvery-green airship as it floated across the night sky. It was headed southeast.

Toward Evere.

Energy surged through Alex. This was it—his chance to stop that Zeppelin from ever dropping another bomb on unsuspecting civilians.

He set his course to converge with the Zeppelin's and calculated the time. At this speed it would probably take him about twenty minutes to come close enough to do any damage, but that would give him time to formulate his plan. He watched the airship carefully, losing sight of it in the billowing mist for a few seconds, but then it reappeared. He rose steadily higher, putting himself in position to approach it from the stern.

To the north, the distant lights of Brugge came into view. He flew closer to the hulking airship until only a short distance separated them. Setting his jaw, he prepared for his dive.

Suddenly, lights flashed from the rear of the Zeppelin, and shells whizzed past his plane. Alex gripped the controls.
Blast it all!
He'd come too close and thrown away his best advantage: the element of surprise.

He pulled the stick back and banked the plane steeply out of range. He wasn't giving up, oh, no. He was giving chase—but he'd have to outsmart the gunner and the crew if he was going to do any damage to the Zeppelin.

He rose higher, came around, and swooped down for a second run, trying to bring his plane directly over the back of the airship. But the gunner heard him coming and sprayed the air with machine-gun fire.

Alex swerved, intending to circle around once more, but as he did, the Zeppelin rose several hundred feet higher into the clouds.

Energy pulsed through Alex, and conflicting thoughts rushed through his mind. He had to get above the Zeppelin before it rose too high. He checked the altimeter. They had already passed ten thousand feet. He could take his plane up another two thousand, but he couldn't risk going much higher, or his engine would stall.

He pulled back to give himself time to think. If he kept pressing the Zeppelin, the airship would simply rise out of range. But if he made the crew think he'd given up, they might drop their guard and give him another chance to take them down.

But how much longer could he play this game of cat and mouse?

He checked his gauge, calculating the fuel needed for his return flight to St. Pol. He was already below a half tank. Time was running out, but he couldn't turn back now, not when he had the Zeppelin in sight. There had to be a way to make them think he'd given up and gone home.

He continued following the Zeppelin, but stayed behind and out of range for several minutes. He'd wait them out, as long as he could.

The Zeppelin gradually turned south, and the nose dipped down a few degrees.

Alex clenched his jaw. This was it. The Zeppelin must be nearing its home base. If he was going to attack, it had to be in the next few minutes. But how could he get close enough? His engine was so loud it would alert the gunner before he could bring the plane into range.

An idea flashed through his mind. If he turned off his engine, he could glide down over the airship without being heard. It was a crazy risk. Once he cut the engine, he couldn't turn it on again while he was in the air. If he survived the attack, he'd have to glide down and find somewhere to land. Even if he could manage that, how would he start the plane on his own?

He cast that last thought aside. It didn't matter. Whatever it took, he was going to knock down that Zeppelin. Or die trying.

He pulled back the stick and climbed to eleven thousand feet, steadily closing the gap between his plane and the airship.

The sky grew lighter as dawn broke. The first pale rays of the sun made it easier for him to navigate, but it would give the gunner on top of the Zeppelin a better view of his plane as well.

He calculated the distance once more and eased the stick forward, then flipped off the engine. The wind whistled past the Morane as Alex dove down at top speed. He swept around toward the stern of the Zeppelin, closer and closer, until the broad back of the gray-green monster lay directly underneath him.

He gripped the controls and held his breath, waiting for the right moment. He flew over the gun platform on top of the airship with only one hundred and fifty feet between him and the giant Zeppelin. He felt like a tiny gnat attacking a giant elephant, but he had powerful weapons no gnat possessed.

He grabbed the toggle wire and jerked, releasing the first bomb, then the second. Nothing happened. He released the last four bombs in quick succession. A second ticked by, then a terrific explosion rocked the plane. Flames shot into the sky, fueled by the gases inside the airship.

Currents of hot air rushed upward, engulfing Alex's plane. He yelled and covered his face with his arm. The plane flipped and rolled over and over, caught in a wild vortex of heat and motion.

The safety harness held Alex in his seat as the plane tumbled and then plunged in a tail-spinning dive.

“Lord!” Alex gripped the controls. He might not have the power of his engine, but he had flaps and a rudder. He pulled back with all his might. The plane shuddered and shook for a few seconds, but finally, just past three thousand feet, he pulled out of the dive.

He leveled off, caught an updraft, and looked over his shoulder in time to see the fabric covering of the Zeppelin curl in on itself as the airship floated down through the sky like a giant flaming cloud. His head buzzed as he stared at the scene, feeling strangely detached from it all. Cool, moist wind rushed past his face, bringing him out of his stunned state.

He heard a dull explosion far off in the distance as the wrecked Zeppelin crashed to the earth. He hoped it landed in an open field and no one on the ground had been hurt, but it would be days before they heard a report. Although the Germans held a tight rein on the news, word would eventually leak out.