The Flying Circus (20 page)

“Not like this.”

When she looked at him, Henry could see she knew it, too. “His loss.” She tried to make it sound glib, but Henry heard the hurt underneath. “This act is well funded. They have
contracts
for work through most of the winter down South. I’ll be able to implement all of the stunts I’ve been thinking of. And the crowds! Did you hear how many people they average per show? ”

“I did.” It was a significant operation, no doubt about it. And Gil was right, it was perfect for Cora, no matter what her motivation. But an undercurrent to all of this remained unexplained. Her climbing out of the cockpit might have been the fuse, but there had been plenty of fuses over the past weeks. Where had the gunpowder come from for the explosion?

What Reece had told them cast a new light on Gil’s personality; Henry now knew Gil’s flirtation with death wasn’t in Henry’s imagi
nation. And it wasn’t new. Did Gil push because he felt invincible, bulletproof? Or was it darker? A true open invitation? Henry suddenly wondered if the escape from the prison camp had been just another way of waving a red flag at death.

Gil was complicated for sure, but everything Henry learned only raised more questions. He owed this new life to Gil, no matter how reluctantly he’d offered it. What they’d heard tonight had doubled both Henry’s admiration and his worry. He was going to do his damnedest to keep Mercury’s Daredevils together. But if keeping Cora was going to push Gil over the edge he seemed to be teetering on, Henry would have to stop fighting.

When Jake Hoffman had returned from town, he’d been surprisingly receptive to the idea of Cora’s joining the air circus. She’d gone right to work on selling Henry, too, “a crack mechanic, inventor, and a pilot to boot.” Hoffman wanted to see what Henry could do and asked them to come back tomorrow. The air circus was about to lose a pilot; Hoffman explained it was too hard to fly all over the country year-round when you’re attached to a ball and chain. Reece had chimed in saying it was a rare woman who’d tolerate a man in this business; he’d been lucky enough to find one of the few.

“Since you two would
both
be with the circus”—Reece had eyed Henry and Cora—“it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Cora had said, “Oh! No. We’re not . . . together, at least in that way.”

Her forcefulness more than her words cut Henry to the core.

At that point, Jake Hoffman had raised a brow. “Not married? Or not . . . romantic?”

“We’re strictly professional colleagues,” Cora said, and Henry felt an inch shorter.

“Well, this show’s got no room for romantic hoo-ha distracting the concentration and the trust. If there’s any history between you two, I don’t want to know about it. Be clear on this,” Hoffman had said. “I got no tolerance for man-woman drama.
None.
As long as we all got that straight, we should do fine. If we agree tomorrow, there’ll be a probation period, in case either party changes our minds in a few weeks.”

“Well,” Cora sounded flustered, “I still need to confirm things with Gil.” She brightened. “Perhaps I can convince him to bring his Jenny on board, too. Then you’ll have five planes and pilots.”

Reece Althoff chimed in, “He’s a damn fine pilot, Jake. Most naturally gifted I’ve ever seen.”

Hoffman had nodded slowly. “We might work something out with Gil. Really good pilots are hard to come by. Have him come by tomorrow.”

Cora had beamed as if all problems were solved.

Henry had kept his mouth sealed. Gil’s coming “on board” was beyond unlikely. It would completely defeat the man’s purpose for getting Cora on with the circus. Henry tried to untangle the hurt and the gloom of the situation from the possibilities and hope. Cora had just insinuated her being with Henry romantically was laughable. There was no getting around it. Even so, no matter how she felt about Gil, she would probably go with Hoffman, it was everything she wanted right there for the taking.

How much of a heel would Henry be if Hoffman offered him a job and he accepted? It would be good for hiding; he’d be even more invisible than he had been with Mercury’s Daredevils. Even if he flew, with four other pilots and Cora, he could slip by virtually unnoticed. His conscious piped up,
Admit it, you think you might have a chance at Cora with Gil out of the picture.

He closed the door on that voice; no need to put up with the self-shaming and guilt, because it wasn’t going to happen. The very idea of Gil knocking around there all alone, courting death instead of living his life, with no one to pull him back from the brink . . . Henry had a sick feeling that Cora’s leaving was not going to set Gil on the road to recovery.

No. Henry couldn’t leave Gil. No matter what.

Now, as they left the fairgrounds, Henry put his arms on either side of Cora and started the motorcycle. Oh, yes, everyone was excited—except him. As he pulled away from the fairgrounds, his insides were full of slithering black snakes of dread.

C
ora directed Henry out from Spring Street to the field where Gil had landed the Jenny. Henry half suspected Gil had lied about how much fuel he had left and had taken off just as soon as he’d left the courthouse lawn. Henry’s heart beat like overworked pistons, only slowing when he saw the Jenny still sitting in the dusky light, looking as if she floated on a low cloud of awakening fireflies rising out of the grass. Gil, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Let’s go into town and find him,” Cora said, just as brightly as if she and Gil had parted on the best of terms. “I want to tell him the news.”

“I don’t think either one of those things is a good idea.”

“Fine. You don’t have to go. I’ll take the motorcycle.”

Henry stayed put on the seat, blocking her from getting off with his arms by gripping the handlebar. “Tell me what happened.”

“You already know. He didn’t like me getting out of the cockpit.”

“There’s more.” Henry wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, but all of their futures were at stake.

She shrugged and looked away.

“If you want my help in convincing him to pitch in with Hoffman, you’re going to have to tell me.”

“Why would I need help? It’s a great opportunity!”

“For you. For me, maybe. For Gil . . . you know that’s not what he wants.”

“Gil doesn’t know what he wants! Believe me.” Only her stubbornness kept those tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes from falling.

“What happened?” Henry wasn’t going to make it easier on her by voicing his suspicions.

“I got bored. Really, Henry, how do you stand just sitting there? I decided to try riding out on the lower wing for a while. I was perfectly safe, holding on to one of the struts. It’s not like I climbed up on the top wing or hung from the landing gear. . . . I wasn’t actually wing walking. I was just sitting. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“To you. But to Gil?”

“He needs to get over being so protective. I choose the risks I take. Not him.”

“You could have hit an air pocket. You’re not used to making adjustments for that kind of movement.” Although if the girl could do a handstand on a moving motorcycle, her balance and reflexes had to be extraordinary. Still, encouragement was the last thing she needed. Fearlessness was useful, foolishness deadly. He worried Cora didn’t know the difference. “You need to prepare for stunts. Plan. You do know that moving your weight around on the airplane requires corrections by the pilot, don’t you? You probably scared the crap out of him.” Henry could only imagine how he would have felt sitting in the cockpit, unable to stop her as she unexpectedly climbed out on a wing. Scared didn’t come close.

“It scared him all right. Scared him enough to give me a good shake when we got on the ground. Scared him enough to admit his feelings for me.”

Tingles shot over Henry’s skin. His mouth went dry. He’d suspected. But hearing it made it sickeningly real. “He told you?”

“He kissed me.” Her cheeks flamed uncharacteristically red. “Or maybe I kissed him. It all happened so fast. Things got out of hand.”

Henry didn’t want to know how far “out of hand” things had gotten. He dropped his hands from the handlebars and let his arms fall to his sides. “Get off.”

“Why are
you
so mad?”

“Because Gil’s already a fucking mess. And you killed our show.”

“
I
did?” She jumped off the motorcycle and shoved her hands on her hips. “It’s not like the kiss wasn’t mutual! Besides, I can help him stop
being
a fucking mess.”

“Pack up your stuff.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? Gil needs me! I just have to convince him to go with us.”

“Us? Hoffman hasn’t officially offered me a place. And I won’t leave Gil unless he forces me to.”

A new worry bloomed in Henry’s mind. What if Cora did convince Gil to go with Hoffman and then the air circus decided they didn’t need Henry? He’d be left out in the cold.

G
il never showed up that night, or the next morning. Henry scouted around town but didn’t find him. He hadn’t held much hope that he would. So he and Cora finally went to talk to Hoffman without him. Henry only agreed to interview, as Cora called it, to ensure that she left with them. No matter what the offer, he wasn’t taking off and leaving Gil behind. The man’s absence had cleared any doubt. There was no way he’d agree to bring the Jenny to the circus. He had to be away from Cora. That was all that mattered now.

When they reached the fairgrounds, the show was over, the camp packed up. While Cora went off with Hoffman, Henry spent some time talking to Reece Althoff about the mechanics of the machines. Occasionally Henry would catch sight of Cora climbing on one of the tied-down planes—doing a handstand on the upper wing, dangling from the half circle of a lower wing skid (no danger at the moment as she was lying on the ground, but Henry’s gut twisted when he thought of her doing it several hundred feet in the air). He had second thoughts about declining an offer to join the circus, should it come. He wanted to devise some safety devices for Cora’s wing-walking stunts. He was sure he could reduce the risk without tipping off the spectators.

After Reece was convinced of Henry’s competence, the two of them walked over to Hoffman and Cora.

Hoffman said to Althoff, “We’ve got one here near as crazy as you.” To Cora he said, “Reece left space on the truck for the motorcycle. We can load it up and be on our way. Need to use all the daylight we can, get some miles under our belts toward the next stop.”

Cora looked a little panicked. “We have to find Gil and talk to him. We can’t just leave.”

She thought her committing to go would force Gil to join up, too. But she was wrong, so very wrong.

“I understand your loyalty,” Jake said. “Admire it. But we’ve got a schedule. We’d be happy to have you and Henry on the team, but would understand if you decide to stay here with Gil.”

“What if we come along in a day or so?” she said.

“Monday we order new posters. If you’re on board, now’s the time. No sense in adding a woman if we can’t advertise it.”

Henry grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. “This is what you want. Go. I’ll get a schedule from Hoffman. If I can convince Gil, we’ll catch up to you. If he won’t agree to join up, I won’t either.

“But, I can’t just leave him.”

“
He
just left
you
. He doesn’t want you around him, Cora!” Her startled expression made Henry soften his words. “Maybe he needs time to come around. Give it to him. If you’re gone, he’ll get a new perspective.” The thought of being away from her nearly brought Henry to his knees. The idea she’d be taking on wing walking without him to help guide her preparation and minimize her risks was enough to turn his stomach. But he couldn’t abandon Gil, and Cora was better off with the circus. Henry wondered if caring for a woman this deeply always caused this much pain. “Mercury’s Daredevils can’t make it against shows like this. You know it as well as I do. Don’t tie yourself to a sinking stone. If you want to keep being a daredevil, go with Hoffman. Gil and I can always find you.”

“Do you think you can convince him?”

“Yes. It might take a while, but yes.” It bothered him a little, how easily the lies were coming.

Reece nodded to the cycle. “So? Do I load it?”

Cora clutched Mercury tighter, uncertainty in her eyes.

“Load it,” Henry called. He walked her to the passenger side of the truck, where he shook hands with Hoffman and Althoff. “This is best, Cora. You know it.”

“I do. I just . . .” She blinked against tears. Then her face hardened. “To hell with him! You come, Henry. Let him wallow in his self-pity alone.”

Gil’s problem was a whole lot deeper and more complicated than
self-pity. “I know where to find you. And they don’t need my name for the posters.”

One by one, the planes chugged to life.

“Go,” Henry said, raising his voice over the machines and the prop wash. “If nothing else, we’ll meet up with you at the last show in November.”

“You promise to find me? No later than November?”

“I promise.”

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “It’s all happening so fast. . . .”

“You told me there’s no shame in admitting you want something and going after it. Is this what you want?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

Henry inclined his head toward the waiting truck. “Then go after it.” Those words cost him more than he’d ever imagined four little words could.

She kissed his cheek and climbed into the truck. Once she was inside, she held Mercury in the window and waved his paw good-bye.

Henry stood where he was until the truck was gone and the planes were no longer even specks in the cloud-spattered sky. It was done. She was gone. His heart seemed to grow larger with every beat, trying to burst from his chest, climbing higher in his throat, threatening to suffocate the life out of him. But he wouldn’t die. He’d live every painful day with the yawning hole of her absence in it.

His knees gave way and he sat in the matted field, listening to the whir of grasshoppers and drone of clover-seeking bees. Picking up blade after blade of grass, he absently shredded them along their stringy veins. He couldn’t go back to Gil without untangling his own emotions first. He had to weigh the risks of talking Gil into following Cora. The risk to Gil’s soul. The risk to Henry’s own heart.