by Jane Peart
With the sinking of the Lusitania by a German submarine, in May 1915, all the tragedy and horror the two families had suffered in the Titanic disaster was brought vividly to mind.
The incident also served to point up the Germans' willful disregard of the basic rules of civilized warfare, the wanton pursuit of their power goals despite loss of innocent lives. Their determination to conduct unrestricted and intensified submarine warfare, regardless of neutral rights, persisted. The fact that 127 Americans had perished brought the United States closer to entering the European war on the side o f the Allies, President Wilson, however, still refused to commit.
Kip was incensed. At the little cafe at the airfield, he and Beau discussed world affairs endlessly. "It makes me ashamed to be an American!"
Kitty was shocked. "Oh, Kip, you don't mean that!"
"Well, I do! Look, we owe France. They came in, sent men, money, volunteers to help us in our War of Independence, didn't they? It might even have been the turning point. The British could have won! We might still be a British colony today if it hadn't been for France!" Kip banged his fist on the rickety table, causing their mugs to dance.
Beau, of course, agreed with Kip. But Kitty did not feel she knew enough about the situation to venture an opinion. She didn't want to take the opposite viewpoint from Kip on an issue that was so important to him. On the other hand, she had heard her father speak out strongly against America's intervention in a foreign war.
"It would be reckless and irresponsible for us to go in. President Wilson is right," Rod had said firmly. "Nothing is worth risking the lives of thousands of young men. Why can't people remember our own terrible war, the deep scars that have still not been erased? Any man who survived that bitter experience should applaud the President's decision." Rod added proudly—"You know he's a Virginian?'
Kitty knew, too, that there had also been opposing opinions about the war her father had served in. That war had pitted brother against brother, husband against wife. Whole families had been torn asunder over it. Kip's own grandfather and grandmother, Malcom Montrose and his wife, Rose, had been sadly estranged over the right and wrong of that war. xShe wasn't about to jeopardize her tenuous relationship with Kip by debating the issue!
So Kitty remained silent. War was a man's business. Men made war, fought wars. That's the way it had always been.
chapter
2
July 2, 1915
Dearest Twin,
Just a short note to tell you I'm taking Lynette to Cape Cod to visit Meredith. She's written so many times begging me to come for a visit, but there always seemed something to prevent my going. Last year, of course, I took Lynette to England to see her little sister at Aunt Garnet's. Now, with the war going into its second year, there's no telling when those two children will get to see each other again.
Mama has been real concerned about Lynette. She does seem sad sometimes, even though we all do everything we know to keep her happy and content. Father has been wonderful, has taken a real interest in teaching her to ride, and Lynette is doing quite well. She will soon be graduating from her beloved pony to a horse he has hand-picked for her.
Anyway, when Merry's last invitation came, it was decided that it would be good for Lynette to have a change of scene and that the sea air would do her a world of good. Summer is the best time for Merry to have us come, since Manuel is out on his fishing boat two and three days at a time, and she writes that she "longs for company." She is thrilled to have Lynette come, too, and says there are lots of children nearby to keep her company.
Remember our summer at Fair Winds? Well, of course you do! That's the summer you met Owen. I'll write from there, but I don't expect to hear from you. I know you're busy with Vacation Bible School. Good luck!
Love always, Kitty
When Kitty told Kip about her plans, he seemed not only surprised but angry.
"For the whole summer?"
"Not quite. A month or six weeks, actually."
"That's crazy! What in the world do you want to do that for!" he demanded.
"Kip! I don't understand why you're so upset. Merry's your own sister and my very best friend!"
"Well, but . . . why do you have to be gone so long?"
"For one thing, I haven't seen Merry in months, and we'll have a wonderful time together."
"Doing what?"
"What we always do at the Cape—swim, walk on the beach, talk! We have lots to catch up on."
Kip plunged his hands into his jacket pocket, pouting like a small boy. "Talk? For six weeks? That's ridiculous!"
"You don't understand. Men just don't." Kitty smiled and shrugged.
They were standing below the steps of Cameron Hall. Kip had just driven Kitty home from the airfield where they had spent most of the afternoon. Kip had been practicing landings and Kitty had sat in the little cafe, drinking coffee and holding her breath as she watched him.
"So, when are you leaving?" Kip asked.
"Next week."
"So soon?" Again he seemed offended. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Kip, I'm sure I must have mentioned it. You just weren't listening."
He frowned, then said doubtfully, "I don't think so, or I'd have remembered—"
Kitty had to laugh. "Oh, Kip, your head is in the clouds so much of the time, you don't hear half o f what's said to you!"
He gave her a doleful glance. "I'm going to miss you."
She shook her head. "No, you won't. You'll be too busy flying, taking engines apart with Beau."
"You're wrong, Kitty. I'm used to having you with me, riding out to the field with me, being there when I land and climb out of the cockpit. It means a lot to me that you understand, that you don't fuss or nag about it being dangerous or silly . . . which, of course, it isn't—" He paused, put both hands on her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. "Kitty, don't you know how special you are to me?"
With all her heart, Kitty wished Kip meant what he was saying. But deep down, she didn't believe he cared for her in the same way she cared for him. Not yet. Maybe he never would. She shouldn't put too much meaning into his words.
Sure, she was "special" to him. She was the one who had given him the proverbial shoulder to cry on when Cara left him for Owen, the one who sympathized, listened, bolstered his self-esteem, and encouraged him. She had comforted him when his mother had died so tragically on the Titanic, and tried to support him when he groped for new meaning in his life. She had been his friend. And she was wise enough to realize that "friend" might be all she would ever be to Kip.
Afraid she might betray her deeper feelings, Kitty leaned up and gave him a light kiss.
"And you are very special to me, Kip."
Then, with a casual wave, she turned and ran
Then, with a casual wave, she turned and ran up the steps and into the house.
Besides, it might do Kip good to really miss her while she was gone. That is, if that old adage, "absence makes the heart grow fonder," is true!
chapter
3
Nantucket Island, Mass.
Summer 1915
THE CAPE SEEMED another world away, unchanged despite the seven years that had passed since Kitty and Cara had spent that last enchanted summer here. It even smelled the same—the salty tang of the sea air, the sharp aroma of geraniums spilling out of window boxes along the main street of town, the clean, wind-swept breeze.
Fair weather held long after Kitty's arrival with Lynette in tow, and they quickly settled into the leisurely pace o f life in the Sousa house—a quaint sea-silvered "salt-box," as neat and orderly as Merry herself. Beyond a piled-rock fence, they could see the dunes, the dark blue ocean breaking in frothy foam onto the beach.
Occasionally Kitty felt a sad little twinge, aware that she had not yet found what both Cara and her friend had found—love given and returned in full measure. For Merry was lyrical about her darkly handsome Portuguese husband, Manuel, and the dimpled baby boy who filled her life.
A professional fisherman, Manny was usually up by dawn and out on his father's fishing boat before the household stirred. And since his work sometimes took him away for two or three days at a time, Meredith and Kitty had plenty of time alone together.
Their days took on a pleasant pattern. Before noon, they took the baby in his carriage, a beach umbrella, blankets, and a picnic basket down to the beach. There was no lack of playmates for Lynette, for here other families from the cottages fronting the ocean gathered to while away the summer hours.
While the baby napped and Lynette joined her new friends to build sandcastles, search for shells, or wade near the shore, Meredith and Kitty had a chance to catch up on all the years since that enchanted summer.
Their long friendship dated back to childhood, and there had been few secrets between them. Meredith had sensed Kitty's love for Kip before Kitty was even willing to admit it to herself. Now they spoke freely about the things closest to their hearts.
" If Kip doesn't wake up and realize it soon, someone else will, Kitty!" Meredith declared. "You're much too special for someone not to fall madly in love with you and carry you off soon. Then my brother will be sorry!"
"You can't make someone love you, Merry. Kip thinks of me as a friend, someone he enjoys being with, someone he can trust. He doesn't think of me romantically at all—" She paused, then said haltingly, "I'm not sure he's ever gotten over losing Cara. Maybe he never will—"
Meredith shook her head. "That would never have worked, even if Cara had wanted it to. They were too much alike. Mama always said they were like flint and stone. Whenever they were together, sparks flew. Imagine what kind of a marriage that would have been!"
Kitty smiled pensively. Distracted for the moment by the shouts and shrieks of laughter on the shore where the children were splashing and rolling in the shallow waves, she did not reply to Merry's comment.
After nearly a month of sunshine came two days of overcast skies, rain, and high winds. The beaches were deserted, the ocean turbulent.
On one such afternoon, Lynette was invited over to play with some little friends at another cottage. While Merry was rocking Jonny to sleep, Kitty found herself alone in the small sitting room. Browsing through the bookcase for something to read, she came upon a photograph album. Reading its label, SUMMER 1908, she felt a clutching sensation in her heart. That was the summer they had all been together at Fair Winds, the rambling Victorian beach house that belonged to Meredith's grandfather, Colonel Kendall Carpenter. That summer held all sorts of memories for Kitty.
Curious, Kitty sat down on the floor, drew it from the shelf, and onto her lap. Almost reluctantly, she opened it. In Meredith's methodical manner, each snapshot was fastened in place by tiny black corners. Underneath, neatly printed in white ink, was the name, identifying the person in the picture and the date it was taken.
One of the first pictures Kitty came across was of herself and her twin, wearing identical middy blouses, sailor collars and ties, and pleated skirts, their hair whipped by the breeze off the ocean behind them. Looking at those laughing faces brought a lump into Kitty's throat. That had been the time when she and Cara had begun to tread their own paths, to find their separate selves. It was the summer of Cara's secret romance with Owen Brandt. Kitty could still feel the sting of that first separation, the first time her twin had ever shut her out of an important event. She was surprised to find that it still hurt.
There was a group picture of all the young people who had vacationed at the Cape that summer, several of them in makeshift costumes donned for one of the amateur theatricals they'd put on. As she studied that one, Kitty saw something she had failed to see at the time. Everyone was facing straight ahead, looking at the camera, except Owen and Cara. They were gazing at each other with such rapt expressions on their faces that a person would have had to be blind not to see that they were in love! But of course Kitty had been blinded by her own infatuation with Kip, so she was as surprised as anyone else when the truth came out.
Turning the page, she came upon a snapshot that made her heart stand still. Someone had snapped a picture of Kip in the sailboat. He was wearing a cable-knit sweater, his dark hair wind-tossed, his eyes squinted into the sun. There was that grin she loved so much—the white teeth, the tanned face. As she gazed at it hungrily, she saw another print of the same picture among several loose snapshots not yet pasted onto the page.
After a split-second's hesitation, Kitty picked it up and slipped it into her skirt pocket, telling herself that surely no one would miss it.
The first of August, Kitty left for New York City to be a bridesmaid in the wedding of a college chum, Babs Wescott, and her fiance, Phil Bennett. Lynette was to stay with Meredith while Kitty spent a week on Long Island for the pre-nuptial parties and other festivities. After that, she would return to the Cape and she and Lynette would take the train back to Virginia in time for the beginning of school.
Lynette was delighted to extend her vacation, and Kitty went off to meet another member of the wedding party in Boston. When she returned for Lynette, they knew at last that summer was over.
"I'm going to miss you both so much!" Meredith told them. "And I don't know what Jonny will do without his nanny." She took Lynette's face in both her hands and kissed the child's cheeks affectionately.
"Maybe we can come again next summer!" the little girl said hopefully.
"Yes! Please do!" Meredith looked at Kitty over the child's head.
Kitty hugged her friend. "Thanks for everything."
"I wish you'd let me give that brother of mine some sisterly advice," Meredith whispered.
"Don't, please. It's no good unless it's his idea."
"Can I help it if I want you for my real sister?"
Kitty sighed. " I f it's to be, it will be," she replied. "I don't want it any other way."
Kitty got off the train at the Mayfield station a few days later and found Kip pacing the platform impatientiy. When he saw her, he was beside her in an instant.
Before she had a chance to say "Hello," he was demanding, "Why did you stay so long? I mean, the wedding was two weeks ago, wasn't it? What were you doing so long in New York?"
Kitty's heart swelled with happiness. Then he had missed her! She had not dared think he would, busy as he was every day with his flying, tinkering with his obsession, the little plane he had dubbed "Bonnie Doon."
"I was doing some shopping . . . see?" She twirled about to show off the smart linen suit, touching the narrow brim of her braided silk hat.
"You look mighty fashionable, I admit. But you couldn't have spent all your time in stores. They do close at night, don't they?"
"Well, we went to some shows, too. Thax had tickets to the new Marilyn Miller revue—"
"Thax?" He scowled darkly.
"Thaxton Collinwood. You know him. A friend of Scott's and Phil's. He was one of the groomsmen in the wedding," Kitty explained. "He and Phil were roommates . . ."
"Oh, yes, I remember," he conceded, not too graciously. "He's a cousin of the Langleys, right?"
Could Kip possibly be jealous?
"Then we went to a the dansant—that's an afternoon dance party to us provincials." Kitty laughed teasingly. "Babs's aunt gave one for the members of the wedding party at the posh Pierre Hotel. They're all the rage in New York now, and—"
Kip held up a restraining hand. "All right, enough! I don't need an itemized list of your social activities. I'm just glad you're back and we can get on with our life."
Our life? Kitty wondered just what Kip meant by that.
"Where's Lynette?" he asked, looking around as if he had just remembered the little girl.
"Mama met us in Richmond. She's taken Lynette to buy school clothes. Wait till you see her. She's grown a foot and is as brown as a berry."
"Well, then, I guess we're all set. I told your father I'd meet you and drive you home."
They were walking down the platform when Kip suddenly halted. "I've missed
you like blazes, Kitty."
She bit her lower hp to control the surge of pleasure at his words. 'Thanks, Kip. It's nice to know that one is missed."
When they reached the end of the platform, Kitty saw the little green car parked at the curb. Kip opened the door on the passenger side and stood there absentmindedly.
"Kip, my bags—" she reminded him gently.
"Sorry, I forgot. Had something else on my mind. Wait here. I'll be right back."
Kitty laughed. "Of course,I'll wait! Where would I go?"
Kip was back within minutes, tossed her suitcase and hatbox into the back with abandon, and slid behind the wheel.
"Kitty, we've got to talk," Kip said firmly, shoving the car into gear and backing out of the parking space.
She felt her heart give another leap but spoke as casually as she could manage, "Oh, yes, how's the flying?"
'This is not about flying. It's about us."
"Us?" she croaked.
"Yes. You and me, Kitty."
She tried to look surprised, puzzled, but did not succeed. She could feel her lips part in a hopeful smile. "What about us?" she asked in a tremulous voice.
She looked over at Kip, saw the dear, familiar profile, the one she knew by heart. They were past Main Street now, turning onto the county road that led out to their neighboring plantations. Kip made the turn, pressed the accelerator, and they sped along until he made a sudden swerve off into a lane half-concealed by shaggy rhododendron bushes. Pulling on the brake, he stopped the car.
He turned toward her, one arm slid across the back o f the leather seat. "You know I love you, Kitty." His eyes searched for some response. "You do know that, don't you?"
Kitty nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak.
He rushed on. "I didn't realize how much until this summer. But it was this past month that I really knew. I don't want to be without you again. I don't want to lose you . . . not to Thaxton Collinwood . . . not to anyone. Marry me, Kitty."