by Jodi Thomas
“He died in a crash?” Sarah moved around the plane and looked at Bart through the parallel wings. The moonlight made dark and light angles on his face, and sadness glistened in his eyes.
“No.” Bart laughed without any sign of humor. “His wife had talked him into giving up airplanes a few months before. He was killed in a car crash. He was racing a plane around a racetrack. The plane had engine trouble, and while the onlookers held their breath fearing the plane might crash, my friend missed a curve and rolled his car over.”
Bart looked into Sarah’s eyes. Slowly, almost timidly, he brushed a loose strand of ebony hair from her cheek. “I’m rattling on like a tent preacher on a hot night. Guess I’d better take you home.” He backed away as if in a hurry to leave her.
“What is it?” Sarah hugged herself as a coldness passed between them. “Is something wrong?” She’d been brave enough to go riding with him, which Miss Willingham would have considered scandalous. It was after midnight, they were alone under the stars, and he was backing away from her as if he’d suddenly noticed she had smallpox. She hurried after him as he walked toward the hill.
“No, nothing’s wrong. You’re about the most nearly perfect person I’ve ever met.” Bart didn’t turn around to see the confusion in her face. Sarah opened her mouth, but he continued before she could speak. “I just don’t want to get involved with any girl and leave her crying when I move on. It’s better if we stop right now.” Bart reached the rocks and stopped, as if debating what to do about helping her up.
Sarah stood just behind him. She didn’t even come up to his shoulder in height, but she wasn’t afraid. “It’s not better,” she whispered without anger. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I think we could both use a friend, someone to talk to.”
Reaching out, she placed her hand on his shoulder, but he cringed away as if her fingers burned his flesh. “Don’t touch me, Sarah. I don’t think we could be just friends, no matter how much I’d like to. I’ve seen too many women left crying at crash sites. I can’t afford the luxury of caring for someone or having anyone give a damn if I’m alive or dead.”
Sarah moved around him and stood on the higher ground ahead of him. She looked into his smoke-colored eyes, now divested of the hood that usually shielded his thoughts. “It’s too late,” she whispered, “I already care about you.”
“No!” Bart balled his hands into fists as he shook his head. “I won’t care for anyone. I want no face before me when I head nose-down to death. I want no woman aging ten years for every day I fly. No, Sarah, I don’t care for you, so you might as well forget about caring for me.” He pounded his strong fist against his leg.
“Then prove it, my brave pilot.” Though she was not adventurous or outspoken, Sarah knew she could see through people. She could tell when someone was suffering and Bart was suffering now. Bartholomew Rome might lie to himself, but he could not lie to her. He might frighten most people off with his frowns and his tough act, but not Sarah.
She moved nearer. “Prove you don’t feel anything for me.”
“Name the task and let’s go,” Bart ordered.
Sarah knew if she told him to leave he would go, and she would have miles to walk home. If she told him to swear, he would do so without hesitation. Finally she named the only test she could think of: “If you care nothing for me, kiss me.”
“Why?” He looked as if he’d been struck. “You make no sense.”
“Because I’ve never been kissed, and a woman’s first kiss is honest without any practiced affection. Yours must be the same.”
“That’s ridiculous!” he bellowed. “You’re a child if you believe that.”
“Prove me wrong,” Sarah answered, determination echoing in her words.
Bart hesitated. He set his stance and his mind to the task. Deep lines burrowed across his forehead, as though kissing her were like moving into impenetrable darkness and having no idea how far below the ground lay. He pulled her brutally into his huge arms and pressed his lips to hers with calculated cruelty. When she made no attempt to pull away, he bruised her mouth with his force and split her bottom lip with his teeth.
Sarah pushed away in pain, and Bart let her go without hesitation. A cry escaped her as she backed away from him. Blood trickled from the corner of her lip.
Running into the shadows, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. Sarah wanted more than anything in the world to cry, but pride held back the tears. Her first kiss had been a brutal attack, not a loving touch as she’d always dreamed it might be. With a cry of loss, she watched Bart storm a few feet up the hill like a bull charging an impermeable gate. Slowly her tears began to fall—for him, not herself.
Halfway up the hill he slammed his fist into a rock and mumbled an oath. “What did you think would happen?” he asked himself. “That a fool like you could touch an angel and not feel anything?” He knew he should have ignored her at the dance hall, but those eyes, those wonderful sky-blue eyes, had drawn him. How could he have allowed her to disappear into the crowd without discovering why those beautiful eyes reached into his very soul and pulled out feelings he thought he’d buried long ago when he learned how unlovable he was?
When he turned around, he knew he’d have to try to talk to her. A man couldn’t hurt an angel and then just walk away.
Sarah watched him storming back down the hill. He looked like a warrior ready to do battle with the devil. She sank deeper into the shadows of the trees and sat down on a log to watch him. He came toward her, his fists clenched in anger. Even in the shadowy light Sarah could see he had hurt himself with his cruelty far more than he’d injured her. When he was within twenty feet, he turned and retraced his path toward the top. His swearwords followed him as he ran up then turned to storm back down. Though tears streaked her face for his unhappiness, a tiny part of her suppressed a giggle at this huge man’s boyish indecision.
Finally he came to her and sat down on the grass at her feet. She was afraid to say anything for fear of hurting him more than he’d been hurt already. He was silent for a long time, looking out over the open field. Slowly the cool wind calmed his breathing to normal and his iron-tight muscles relaxed against her leg. Sarah wanted to touch his hair and tell him it was all right, but she knew he would only pull away.
Why had he brought her out here to see the planes if he wanted no part of knowing her? He’d made sure several of his friends saw them leave. Could he have been playing some game that involved her? Could he truly care nothing for her? Or did he think he could bring her out here and enjoy the evening without allowing his feelings to surface? Sarah suddenly wished she were older and wiser…or Katherine. If she were Kat, she’d know what to do.
She pulled her midnight blue scarf from around her neck. “Let me see your hand,” she said in her nursing voice.
Bart lifted his hand to her lap. Her fingers brushed his skin. Warm blood seeped from his knuckles where he’d slammed his fist into the rock. She wrapped his hand tightly with her scarf, knowing the pain of the wound was nothing compared to the hurt within him. Holding his hand firmly between hers, she tried to heal the wounds that were far too deep inside him to touch.
When he finally cleared his throat to speak, Bart sounded tired. “I had a bird once when I was a kid. A parakeet.
Prettiest thing you ever saw. I think I loved that bird more than I did my family.” He wasn’t looking at her as he talked. “One day the bird got out of his cage. I panicked. I just knew he would get outside and some hawk would eat him for breakfast. So I opened up my hand, and he flew right into my palm. I was so glad, I closed my fingers to keep him safe and ran toward the cage.” Bart let out a long breath. “When I opened my hand inside the cage, the bird fell dead on the cage floor. I’d crushed his bones in my fingers by loving him so much.”
He was silent for a long while, and when he spoke, the sadness in his tone tore at Sarah’s heart. “That’s why I’m afraid with you. I can’t help myself. When I saw you, I had to get nearer. I had to
find out if you were as beautiful as those huge blue eyes promised. And you are, you are beautiful inside, like few people I’ve ever known. But you’re tiny and fragile in body and spirit. If I get too close, I might just care too much. You need to fall for some banker who’ll only worry you with gravy spots on his vest. A pilot’s life would crush you as surely as if your bones were hollow.”
Sarah folded her hands in her lap and straightened her back. “Do you think so little of me? Quietness does not always cover fear, nor does meekness have to imply a weak spirit.”
“All I can add is I’m sorry I hurt you.” He took a long breath that was almost a sigh. “I’ll see you safely home. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am misjudging you, but I can’t take the chance.”
“Wait.” Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder. “I could argue with you, but I won’t. I must say, however, that for a man who teases death daily, you’re the greatest coward I’ve ever known.”
“Maybe.” Bart’s voice was so low Sarah felt she was reading his thoughts. “Maybe we’re all a little bit cowardly in one way or another.”
He leaned his shoulder against her knees and rested his head on her lap, reminding Sarah of a lonely little boy. He was right about the cowardliness in us all, Sarah realized. She could bravely face hours of nursing one patient after another, but a crowd of people frightened her. Katherine could fight her way out of every fear, except the darkness. Sarah brushed Bart’s hair lightly with her fingers. And this brave man, she thought with a smile, was afraid of her.
Four
BART DROVE BACK to the dorm trying to think of something to say to Sarah. He wanted to lay his hand over hers, but he wasn’t sure what she’d do. She might tell him again how brave she was, but he knew a gentle soul when he met one. Never in his life had he been so fascinated with a woman.
He remembered once his mother had taken him to church when he was very small. While she prayed, he’d looked up at the face of a statue. Until tonight he would have sworn no woman could ever look as beautiful as that figure, but that was before he saw Sarah standing in the crowd like an angel among mortals.
“Stop the car down the road a little.” She touched his arm to make sure he heard her above the engine. “I can walk from here.”
Bart pulled the car over and silenced the engine. “I’ll walk with you,” he insisted as he opened her door.
Sarah took his arm without hesitation, and they crossed the wooded area beside the dormitory. When she reached the back door, Sarah tapped lightly three times and it opened.
Bart looked up the steps and met the angry eyes of the redhead he’d teased earlier. “Evenin’, ma’am.” He touched his forehead with a salute. “Nice night for a drive.”
Green eyes stared down at him with enough sparks to set the Rockies on fire, but her voice was low and controlled. “I was worried about you, Sarah.”
Sarah looked up at Bart. “You shouldn’t have been, Kat. I was with Bart.”
He could tell the redhead thought Sarah’s reasoning somewhat daft, but he had to respect her for not yelling. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if Katherine had yelled at Sarah. Trying to ease the tension, Bart asked, “I’m surprised you got away from young Cody. He’s not a man to leave until the last waltz is played.”
Katherine smiled, unable to hide her happiness any longer. “He’s taking me flying in the morning.”
“What!”
Sarah touched Bart’s lips to quiet him. She didn’t have to say anything. He knew he’d get them into trouble if they were caught coming in so late. The touch of her fingers on his mouth made him forget for a moment what he’d shouted about.
Katherine smiled victoriously. “I’ll have to leave long before sunup to get to the field on time.”
“You’re not going without me.” Sarah slowly lowered her fingers from Bart’s face.
He could see there was no use standing in the cold arguing with these two. “Neither of you will walk in the dark to the test field. You’ll fall and break your necks. ’Course, in your case, Red, you might hit your head and knock some sense into it.”
“I don’t remember asking for your approval.”
Bart laughed. “No, you didn’t, and you wouldn’t have gotten it if you had, but I’m offering you a ride. I’ll pick you up just before dawn.”
Katherine opened her mouth to turn down his offer, but Sarah stepped between them. “That’s very kind of you. We’ll be ready.” She shoved Katherine into the building and waved as she closed the door.
Bart stood for a while, staring at where they’d disappeared. She’d said he was kind. He could never remember in his life anyone ever telling him something he did was kind. Brave maybe, even daring, but never kind.
As he walked back to his car he remembered the way she’d touched his arm. He could still feel her light fingers against his lips when he’d yelled. Watching her move was like watching a miracle. Somehow on this earth perfection had come to life.
* * *
Katherine followed Sarah up the stairs in silence, feeling much older and wiser than her friend. When she closed the door to their tiny dorm room, Katherine could hold her tongue no longer. “I was so worried about you. The dance was over long ago.”
Sarah fumbled in the darkness as she lit the lamp. “You sound like a mother,” she said, trying not to giggle, “waiting at the door for me and scowling at Bart just as Miss Willingham would have done.”
Kat’s mood didn’t lighten. She’d worn out the floor in the hall by pacing. “Well, maybe one of us needs a mother. I can’t believe you left O’Grady’s with that man. He’s as hard as rock salt and as big as a mountain. I’d be surprised if he knows three civil words to string together.”
Sarah turned up the light and faced her friend. “Bart’s a wonderful man. I don’t need a keeper, Kat. So stop acting as if I’m being committed to the state hospital next month and not just working there.”
Katherine’s frustration vanished as she noticed the tiny spot of dried blood at the corner of Sarah’s lip. “Oh, my Lord, you’ve been hurt. He couldn’t even see you home safely.” Fear tightened her fists. “Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him with my bare hands.” Kat grabbed a wooden-handled button hook and swung it like a weapon. “When I’m finished with Bart Rome, he’ll have to be sent to meet his maker in matchboxes. I’ll make him think flying was dangerous.”
Sarah laughed until tears bubbled in her blue eyes. She’d almost forgotten the street-fighting child within Katherine. “He didn’t hurt me, Kat. Settle down. Honest, if Custer had had you, he’d have won the Battle of Little Big Horn.”
Katherine lowered her weapon and regained her poise, but her eyes still held the fire of battle. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“He kissed me.”
Katherine returned her weapon to the dresser where she’d now only use it to attack the buttons on her shoes. “Cody kissed me too, but it was just part of my plan, nothing more.”
“I don’t think Bart planned to kiss me.” Sarah blushed. “He makes me feel all grown-up inside, as if there’s no little girl left.”
Kat looked worried. She wasn’t sure she wanted to think about Sarah caring for this man who might come between them. She knew such a thought was selfish, but Sarah was the only person she’d ever cared about. “Don’t fall for the first guy who kisses you. Believe me, it’s something men do without any thought Don’t trust him. He’ll only disappear when you need him.” She put her arm around Sarah, playing the part of big sister. “They take what you offer and then leave. Men weren’t meant to stay around forever.”
Sarah shook her head. “All men aren’t like that. Just because your father left you…”
Katherine held up her hand as if she didn’t want to hear any more. “He left me just as Bart will leave you if you start depending on him.” Kat walked to the window and stared into the blackness. “I remember begging him not to let go of my hand. I was so afraid. But he pulled away.
“‘I can
’t,’ he said simply, ‘I can’t raise a child alone.’ I remember crying and promising to be good, but he only mumbled something about being on the road.”
Katherine continued looking deep into her own memory. “I begged him to promise to come back and get me, but he said, ‘Never make a promise you can’t keep.’ He left me there at the cannery with a couple whose pledge to take care of me faded with the daylight. I cried so hard that first night that the Wards locked me in the cannery so they wouldn’t have to hear me. I was so alone in the dark I thought my chest would crack open from the pain I felt inside. After that, I felt I’d never cry again.”
Sarah closed her fingers around Katherine’s arm. “You’re not alone now. I’ll always be with you, even when you yell at me worse than Miss Willingham would have.” She knew Kat’s anger with Bart arose from her fears for Sarah rather than with Bart himself.
“I remember the first time I saw you.” Sarah’s soft voice eased Kat’s mind as always. “A constable brought you from town, saying he had to put you at the farm because you wouldn’t tell him where you were from. Most of us couldn’t remember any life but the farm, so you were a real curiosity.”
Katherine turned away from the window. “I’ll never forget how all you lined up and stared at me.”
Sarah smiled. “I’d never seen anyone kick a policeman before. He was just standing there holding you by the hair while you kicked his shins. I bet the poor man was blue from the knees down.”
Katherine’s mood lightened. “He’d told me I was going somewhere nice—a farm in the country. I took one look at that place and knew it was a work farm. I wanted to beat up the world.”
Sarah pulled Bart’s wool scarf from around her neck. “You about did. You beat up all the boys and started on the girls before you got to me. I decided being your friend was safer.”
“Without you, I’d never have run away from there.”
“Yes, you would have, just as you ran away from the cannery.” Sarah laughed. “You just wouldn’t have known where you were going.”