by Leigh Dreyer
“I understand also that Lieutenant Bennet’s medical status is in question and she is up for her medical board sometime in the near future.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lastly, I understand that as recently as last month a wing commander, operational group commander, and a squadron commander were relieved of duty for concerns regarding fraternization and other issues between instructors and students.”
Colonel Forsythe’s eyes did not leave Darcy’s. “I sincerely hope that I did not make a mistake by sending you to Rosings together with Lieutenant Bennet in the spring. Can you assure me that nothing of a romantic nature happened between you two on your TDY?”
“Do you honestly think I could ever love someone who has ruined not only my family but my friends and my hometown?”
“I can promise you that nothing romantic happened between the two of us at Rosings, sir.”
“I have already spoken to Captain Bingley.”
Darcy held back a sigh of despair. Charles was never any good at keeping his mouth shut.
“He has assured me that in his home you are a perfect gentleman while his sister-in-law is under his care.”
“I can assure you, sir, that I would never do anything that would harm Eliz—Lieutenant Bennet’s career or reputation.”
“Excellent. You didn’t strike me as that kind of man. I want to assure you, however, that while I am not immediately rectifying your living situations and assigning you to the dorms, I am going to be monitoring it. If I get a single whiff of an inappropriate romantic relationship between the two of you, I promise that it will be you, Captain, who suffers the consequences, not Lieutenant Bennet.”
He briefly considered defending himself and his reasons for having Elizabeth nearby but remembered that discretion is the better part of valor. He pressed his hands together instead and focused on the feel of his palms against each other. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ve read her file. Compressed spinal fracture, broken femur, broken ribs. I’ve attended quite a few medical boards and signed off on more since becoming a commander. There is absolutely no way she will remain in the Air Force. To be honest, I’m surprised they are taking so long to hold the board. Typically for cases like this, they hold it immediately and medically retire the person so it doesn’t hold up others. That outcome, and only that, is the only reason I’m going to let this blatant skirting of the rules occur. Do you understand me?”
Darcy nodded.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect to have to speak to you about this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bennet has been through enough.”
“Yes, sir.
“You’re excused.” Colonel Forsythe turned back to his computer and began typing as Darcy stood, then left the room.
The drive home was long. Bingley had texted that he would catch a ride with someone else after his later flight, which left Darcy to his thoughts. He felt ashamed that the wing commander had found his relationship inappropriate. Of course, if Colonel Forsythe knew anything about Darcy’s relationship, he would be in a world of hurt. Darcy shuddered at the very idea of what could happen to Elizabeth’s career if their relationship was made public. He stood in a very murky place by the good graces of the colonel, and Darcy knew it. If he could just move quickly into the Guard, their problems would be solved.
Come to think of it, what exactly was his relationship with Elizabeth? They had shared a few moments like when he comforted her after her nightmare and an occasional stolen kiss or a soft “I love you.” He knew she wanted more by the way she reacted to him—cuddling closer when he held her, stealing one last kiss before saying goodnight—had been enough indication of that. Now he would have his friend, her sister, and a wing commander looking at them through a microscope. It was the last thing they needed.
When he arrived to an empty house and hung his keys on the hook by the door, he was not disappointed to remember Caroline had a “girls’ weekend” out of town with her sorority sisters. He changed out of his flight suit and made himself a sandwich. He ate it slowly, mulling over his predicament and waited for Elizabeth.
6
His phone showed half past eight before Darcy heard a car on the gravel. He looked out the window to see Jane run around to the passenger side of the car, grabbing crutches.
By the time he had hurtled through the front door, Elizabeth had made her way to the porch and smiled up at him. She was clearly tired but in good spirits. Darcy had to steady himself to open the door and let her go through on her own.
When Elizabeth had first come to Netherfield, he had gone out of his way to help her, demonstrating his love by doing everything for her. She had kindly, but firmly, asked him to let her do things on her own. She said she had to become herself if she ever wanted to give part of herself to him. He had reluctantly slowed his attentiveness, but there were some gentlemanly attentions he would continue, whether she liked it or not, like holding the door.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Well, PT was awful―”
“To be expected.”
“She really is―”
“Annoying? Talkative?” He leaned in to brush his lips to hers.
“Exactly! And she kind of looks like a horse.”
Jane’s head looked up at the two bantering. She shook her head. “You two are terrible. She doesn’t resemble any equine-type animal I’ve ever seen.”
Darcy mumbled, “You clearly haven’t seen this PT. Or heard her for that matter.”
Elizabeth let out an unladylike snicker as she made her way down the hallway.
Attempting an air of nonchalance, Darcy called after her. “How were your other appointments?”
Elizabeth turned, smiling brilliantly, her eyes shining hopefully. “Therapy was fine, but listen, my doctor’s appointment was absolutely amazing. The new doc, a Captain Willoughby, was helpful for once. Totally sympathetic. Supportive. You know the type? I mean, I’ve never seen one in the military. Normally, I don’t even see the same doctor twice. Everyone regularly complains about it, right? Anyway, he outlined some new therapies, told me about some research. He even gave me his phone number so I could call him at home if I had problems with my referrals or anything! For the first time since the crash, I feel like I might have a shot!”
Darcy smiled weakly. He was utterly convinced that Willoughby was a snake, but how could he tell Elizabeth without sounding jealous? He took six months before he told her he loved her and insulted her in the same breath, what chance did he have to explain without sounding like a complete idiot?
“Did he tell you that you had a chance?”
Elizabeth looked aghast and then confused. “Well, not exactly, but he did say he would be supportive—and what doctor has given you their numbers? Isn’t that some kind of sign?”
Darcy looked down into her eyes. They were brown but had tiny flecks of yellow, just around the center. Occasionally, he forgot how young she was, how trusting, and how innocently she still believed in her dreams.
He thought quickly, coming up with platitudes of comfort. He could not, would not lie to her. It was better for her to be let down easily now than build up hope for months before being crushed on the wheel of the Air Force. He had to tell her the truth.
“Elizabeth, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. This is the happiest I’ve seen you in a month, and I’ve missed your smiles.” Darcy’s fingertips traced Elizabeth’s cheek. “I think you need to ask him—straight out. What if he’s just being nice? Do you believe he is going to fight for you? I don’t want you to put your limited energy into fighting a losing battle, especially with no back up plan. I’m here for you and always will be, but I think it would be good to evaluate some options in case pilot training simply isn’t in the cards.”
Elizabeth had stiffened, though she had not drawn away. Her eyes clouded over, and a stormy expression transformed her soft features into hard edges.
“Of course I have a shot! Why do you continue tryin
g to keep me down? Did you ever believe I could do it?”
“I’m not keeping—”
“You are! Every time we discuss this, it’s always, ‘Elizabeth, what’s your back up?’ or ‘Maybe you should think of something else.’ There is nothing else! This is what I’ve worked for my entire life. I want to be a pilot and this is my chance. This is my shot. I’m not going to waste it on a man who only wants to watch me fail.”
Elizabeth’s hands shot to cover her mouth as if to hold more words in. Darcy dropped his hand and stepped back.
“Willoughby is God’s gift to flight med, is he? Nobody gives out their personal numbers unless they are seeking a personal relationship, Elizabeth. He’s your doctor; you’re his patient. Tell me, what brain wave did he have that will help you get back in the cockpit tomorrow?”
Elizabeth did not speak, too hurt and angry for words. Instead, her eyes bore through Darcy’s. He relaxed his shoulders and, in a calm voice, spoke.
“I want you to think about other options because I love you. I want the best for you. You crashed. Your future realistically might not include pilot training anymore. That’s life. It sucks.” Darcy sighed deeply. “I want you to succeed so much it hurts. I’ve told you I’m willing to pull in private therapists; you say you don’t need them. I tell you to take it slow; you’re off doing twice as many exercises as you are supposed to be doing. What do you want me to do, Elizabeth? I’m trying everything I know!” He finished the speech by rubbing his hands over his face before allowing them to collapse at his sides.
Elizabeth faced him, straight back, her arms folded in front of her. In a quiet voice, Elizabeth said, “I need to go upstairs. I have studying to do.”
“For what?”
Elizabeth stopped as she passed him, one swing of her crutches closer to the stairs.
“I can’t get behind. I’ve already lost too much time.” She turned as a tear fell, and she brushed it angrily away to continue to her room.
Jane gave him a pitying look as they watched Elizabeth clumsily climb the stairs and shrugged her shoulders as if to ask, “What are we going to do about her?”
Darcy looked up at the ceiling, willing himself to give her time and fighting the impulse to go to her. He had promised her time. He had sworn he would not push her, but god—he wanted to go to her and kiss her until she understood that he needed her more than flying, more than studying, and more than all their tightly cherished dreams combined. He wanted to hold her until she would admit she needed him too.
“You can’t do that if you want to win,” Jane said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Can’t do what?”
“You can’t fight with her. It just makes Lizzy fight harder.”
His brows knit together, and he raked his fingers through his hair. Just as his arms wavered from being placed on his hips to being folded in front of his chest, Jane sighed and relaxed her posture.
“Look, Lizzy’s had to fight against our mom her whole life. Mom hated that Lizzy was such a tomboy and, more than that, hated her dream to be a pilot. She fought all the boys in school that thought she was a tomboy and all the guys in college that thought she was a lesbian or couldn’t believe she would think about so unladylike a profession. You should have heard the comments. ‘Girls can’t fly.’ ‘They can’t do math.’ ‘They are only good for one thing.’ ‘Make me a sandwich.’
“She didn’t care, because she knew what she wanted. Lizzy knows it’s a long, hard road, but she has fought those battles every day of every year of her life. If you tell her she can’t do it, she is just going to fight harder because it’s what she’s done before, and look where it’s got her.”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, this is a great spot.”
Jane smiled knowingly. “I know, ‘plane crash survivor who is about to get kicked out of the military’ isn’t a great place to be, but, you know, she made it. She was in pilot training. She was there with all the stupid men who made fun of her. She was better than they were too—because she worked harder, tried harder, and fought harder. The thing she needs most from you is someone on her team. She has to feel like you are going to support her no matter what happens, and right now she just feels like you’re another man who doesn’t think she can do it.”
Darcy nodded, glancing up the stairs where Elizabeth and her crutches had disappeared. “How does she not see that that is exactly what I am doing? I’m supportive. I just don’t want her to get hurt.”
“She already is hurt. There’s nothing you can do about it. You aren’t the glue to fix her. That has to come from her. What you are”―she paused, looking at Darcy thoughtfully―“you are the hands that hold all the pieces until she can figure out how to glue herself back together.”
Darcy pushed his lips together into a smile. “Charles did good, didn’t he?”
“I did better.” Jane spoke tenderly as the man walked through the front door. Bingley reached forward to grasp her hand and stand next to her.
“Did better for what?”
Jane kissed his cheek, nodded at Darcy, and then said to Bingley, “You missed dinner. Can I get you anything?”
The two stepped out of the room, leaving Darcy to his thoughts.
His mind sorted through his day. Where did it go wrong? It probably started with Anderson, but Willoughby certainly had not helped matters. Elizabeth had to know what she was dealing with.
Darcy took one long look up the stairs before stepping up them two at a time. He knocked on Elizabeth’s closed door and waited. After hearing a muffled “come in,” Darcy entered the room.
Elizabeth was surrounded by pillows against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of her. Her eyes were still pink from tears. She met his glance with a raised eyebrow as he sat down next to her, mirroring her.
“Good book,” he asked, pointing at the open book in her lap.
“It’s okay. Nothing special. I just needed to clear my head.”
He nodded and made an approving noise in the back of his throat. She went back to reading and had flipped the page when he spoke again.
“I need to talk to you about something and I’m not sure how to tell you.”
“You’re gay,” she said deadpan without looking up.
“What?” He turned to face her. She shrugged her shoulders and turned a page.
He grabbed for her book and she jerked it away from him. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “What do you mean I’m gay?”
“Well”―she touched his shoulder and met his gaze―“you’re rich, very neat, exceptionally handsome—”
He began to tickle her sides and she giggled. “Those are all harmful stereotypes, and you know it. I thought you were better than that,” he said inches away from her. His gaze flicked to her lips as she smiled and shrugged again, leaning closer to him. “I assure you, I’m very straight.”
“Good to know.” She leaned closer and kissed him gently. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help me, and I’m taking everything personally. It’s just been a long day.”
Darcy’s mind raced. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry too. I do have something to tell you, though.”
“Shoot.”
“Your new doctor. Willoughby… I don’t like him.”
“I’m not switching because you don’t like him.”
“You don’t understand. I flew with him today—”
“Worse than Anderson?”
“Yes. No—yes?” He groaned. “No, he was actually an outstanding pilot, better than I expected. A dream after Anderson, but it was something he said.”
“What? Did he embarrass you on the radio or something?”
“No, he…” Darcy swept his hand through his hair. “How do I say this?”
“He…?”
“He said you had a nice ass,” he said, the words rushing together.
“What?”
He slowed down and spoke deliberately. “He said he had seen a patient earlier with curly brown hair and that
she would be getting kicked out and that she would make great arm candy.”
Elizabeth leaned back into the pillows. “And you just assumed it was me?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“There are a lot of brunettes, Will.”
“Hey now, he—”
“You know jealousy really doesn’t become you.”
“Jealousy?” Darcy sat back surprised and shook his head.
“Yes. Jealousy. Because I told you he was giving me a chance and you don’t think I have one.”
“That’s not it at all.”
“It isn’t? Aren’t you telling me you don’t like him because you think he was talking about me and thought I was pretty?”
“He said you wouldn’t be in much longer.”
“In what?”
“He mentioned that the patient had flown T-6s before the accident and becoming a civilian would make dating, or whatever, easier .”
“But never said my name?”
“It was just a side comment. I didn’t exactly keep the conversation running to find out his exact plans. Especially over the intercom.”
“So, what you’re saying is that the doctor was talking about a girl who could have been anybody and you aren’t even sure what the comment meant?”
“Come on. It’s not that big a base. T-6s? How many people could it possibly be? Are you being deliberately obstinate? Are you even listening to me?”
Elizabeth folded her arms across herself in a defensive stance and rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m listening.”
“I don’t like him, and I don’t like that he is handling your case.”
“You are entitled to your opinion, but unless I missed something, you are not entitled to make my medical decisions.” There was a finality in her tone that did not invite further discussion.
Darcy watched Elizabeth and saw the signs of their earlier fight. Jane had told him not to argue and the first thing he did after coming to apologize was argue. She had been quick to forgive him and even playful, and he had pushed too hard, too fast. He sighed and bit back his own desire to convince her of the truth.