The Flight Path Less Traveled

by Leigh Dreyer

  “William?”

  “Hmm?” he said, picking up one strand of her curly hair and dropping it before running his entire hand over her hair repeatedly.

  “That feels amazing. Tell me about Pemberley.” She seemed to want him to speak about them. Their future. He had no idea where to start. He had avoided the topic for so long; he had been too concerned about scaring Elizabeth off.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.” Elizabeth sighed deeply and nestled her head deeper into his palm.

  “Pemberley is heaven on earth. You’ve been there; you’ve seen how perfect it is.”

  “There is no other house I’ve ever seen more perfect.”

  Darcy described the gardens, the flowers, the fruit trees, and who had planted them and why until he felt her release a quiet breath. He shifted her in his arms and peeked at her face, eyes closed with long lashes against her cheeks. He bent his head to kiss the top of her head and felt her press against him, softly sighing, her back curving into his chest. God, he loved her. How he wanted her.

  He stretched his long body on the couch, easing Elizabeth to him. He wrapped one arm protectively over her and closed his eyes, relishing the peace that had fallen over them and drifted off to sleep.

  Elizabeth’s hair had long since slipped from its low knot at the back of her head and Darcy inhaled deeply a floral scent that was uniquely her, the best smell in the world as far as he was concerned. Elizabeth stretched and then sat up as Bingley tromped through the door way and stopped suddenly, dropping his bag at the sight of the Darcy and Elizabeth curled together on the couch.

  “I am so sorry. I thought—I thought—”

  “Thought we were at Drop Night?” Darcy finished Bingley’s sentence for him and sat up next to Elizabeth.

  “Yeah.” Bingley looked down at the large watch on his wrist.

  “Ghost is covering for me.”

  “You know, that’s no way to win instructor pilot of the year.”

  “Well, about that…. I’m transferring.”

  “But you just got here.” Bingley looked astounded at this news.

  “I know. I was able to transfer over to the Guard, and I’ll be up in Syracuse. I’m sorry—I should have told you sooner. I was waiting for the outcome of the board. I PCS out in just a couple weeks.”

  “Well, that’s absolutely perfect! I wonder how I could get up there. Except I don’t want to go Guard, and I don’t know that Jane would want to move where it’s so cold after growing up here.” Bingley plopped himself down in one of the arm chairs and proceeded to take off his boots and put his socked feet on the coffee table. “Of course, it would only be for a few years. How exciting for you!”

  “I’m thrilled.”

  “You can finally go back to Pemberley. I always loved it there. I’m sure Georgiana is ecstatic. What a perfect Christmas present for her.”

  “Last I talked to her, she was jumping up and down with joy.”

  “Well, that is great. Lizzy can move into your room, since she’s in that little guest one right now and yours has the ensuite bathroom and the bigger closet. It is much nicer. Lizzy, why are you shaking your head? You don’t have a choice. You’re going to switch. It’s a nicer room, and I’m sure Jane won’t take no for an answer.”

  Elizabeth smiled and almost said “thank you” but something stopped her. She did not want to move rooms. She did not want to stay here. She was ready.

  “I’m sure Jane can help you with all that research you were showing me earlier. She’s already in bed for the night. She said the baby exhausts her, but I’ll tell her in the morning. Elizabeth was looking into crop-dusting, wasn’t it?”

  Darcy smiled widely at Elizabeth. Her hair was messy. She had long red lines on her cheek from resting on his sleeve, but she had never been more beautiful.

  Bingley looked suspiciously back and forth between the two then cleared his throat. “I’m sure Jane will help you with whatever you need. Is there a lot of crop-dusting around here? Maybe up in North Texas in the plains? Or Kansas. Kansas could be fun. The Sunflower State. Do sunflowers need crop-dusting? I’m going to go look it up.”

  Bingley stood and left the room, grabbing his boots in one hand and pulling his phone out of one of his flight suit pockets with the other, clearly intent on looking up the prevalence of crop-duster pilots in Kansas.

  Alone once more, Elizabeth stretched her arms widely and then stood up. “I think I’m going to take a bath and then head for bed. I clearly can’t stay awake. Thanks for listening to me yammer. I’m sure listening to my rambling isn’t very entertaining.” She kissed Darcy, her lips lingering against his.

  “On the contrary,” Darcy said, “your ramblings are the best part of my day.”

  23

  Meryton Air Force Base boasted more flying days than any other training base in the country as a result of its desert location and the lack of rainfall in the typical year. The autumn after Elizabeth’s accident, however, had proven to be the rainiest of the last hundred years, with the notable exception of the hurricane-produced flood of 1998 reverently referred to as “the flood” by locals. With low visibility, planes had been grounded almost fifty percent of the time, resulting in the unfortunate happenstance of weekend flying. During a typical year, instructors and students had weekends off to do things like visit San Antonio, for instructors, or study more, for students. This year, though, weekend flying had been prescribed in a furious attempt to get students to graduate on time.

  Darcy woke up on Saturday morning at five after six, ready to meet the day, if meeting the day consisted of groggily brushing his teeth and taking a shower with his eyes closed because the bathroom light was too bright. He was on the road by six thirty, listening to the only English language radio station blast country Christmas music.

  Darcy entered the squadron building and walked past the scheduling desk, quickly skimming the board for his name and the student he would be working with. Thank god, it wasn’t Anderson, who was instead stuck with Billz. His morning got better when he saw that he had been rescheduled for a quick training ride with another instructor, he could not have been happier. This would be flying at its best; no students to instruct and no grade sheets to fill out. If he was Bingley, he probably would have started singing and skipping, but Darcy was not Bingley. He was dignified. He strode in to his cubicle, humming, and took a dignified seat in his dignified chair, spinning around one time (but made sure no one observed him.)

  Elizabeth had been exuding stress before her board, but as she made her lists, mapping out her goals and life, she had seemed as happy as when she was flying regularly. When he stepped to the jet a few hours later after a quick brief, that positive energy boosted his hope.

  He walked around the jet, looking for debris and checking out the plane, taking a moment to stop and reflect that the T-38 was one of the only airplanes that looks good from every angle: sharp pointed nose, prominent engine, short wings that made it look long and lean, almost missile like. He had never given thanks for the gift that flying had been to him after his father had died. Flying brought him peace. He loved soaring above the Earth and seeing how the ground below changed and undulated with people’s influence. Nothing else could make his heart pound in his chest and take his breath away on a regular basis—well, nothing but Elizabeth.

  Smiling to himself, he climbed into the cockpit and nested his materials around him, strapped his checklist to his thigh, and was thrilled to feel control in his hands once again. Soon he had lifted off the runway at one hundred and sixty-five knots, watching the blurs of white buildings, green trees, and brown desert dust fly past his peripheral vision.

  He sped to the operating area and climbed to more than thirty thousand feet, the houses and trees below him becoming only specks, making up the impressionistic painting of the world. When he reached altitude, he threw the nose into a dive and pushed the throttles forward, activating the after burners. He watched the airspeed indicato
r as it slowly bumped over Mach, and the altimeter jumped and settled back. The stick was vaguely stiff when he pushed or pulled it slightly to maintain his dive, but that was it. There was nothing indicating he was going faster than the speed of sound but the sacred feeling of speed deep in his bones.

  Soon, he came out of his dive at only ten thousand feet and pulled back on the stick, waiting for the G-meter to hit five. He watched the altimeter speed around its casing, looking more like a fan than a gauge. He was now upside down, having slowed significantly, so he pulled the nose down, relaxed back to zero G, rolled upright, and pulled up in the first half of an Immelmann1.

  He gave the controls to the other instructor who performed the maneuvers on his checklist to accomplish and just rode along. The sky was clear. He could see for miles from horizon to where the sky seems to curve around the Earth. He let the harmony of the scene heal and restore him. He let his mind calm and enjoyed the peace of not thinking,

  On landing, he felt the smooth touchdown of the landing gear against the runway. It was a perfect flight. Sometimes flying could be a job, but sometimes the words of John Gillespie McGee were the pure definition of flight. Darcy recited quietly to himself as he walked back to his office to complete his debrief and paperwork.

  “Wheeled and soared and swung

  High in the sunlit silence.

  Hov'ring there I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

  My eager craft through footless halls of air.”

  Darcy had made his decision. He had seen the difference in her the day before and knew he had to try.

  When he arrived back at Netherfield, he walked in on a scene familiar to him. Elizabeth was in the kitchen having a bowl of cereal and reading a book. She looked up, grinning, and showed him a book he had left on his nightstand.

  “This one is not nearly as racy as the last,” she said after he kissed her firmly on the mouth.

  “I am a man of varied appetites. I can’t just read smut all the time.”

  “Based on what I’ve seen on your nightstand, I beg to differ.”

  Darcy laughed and watched Elizabeth’s eyes brighten as she laughed with him.

  “Hey—” He grabbed the book from her hand, marked the page, and placed it on the table. “I had a great flight. Let’s go out.”

  “Go out? Look at me? I’m not even dressed!”

  “So go throw something on. I’ll get out of my uniform. We’ll go get dinner somewhere.”

  “But….” She looked down at the dregs of milk and cereal which remained in her bowl.

  “So let’s get dessert.”

  “Ugh.” She slouched forward and leaned her head to the table. “All right. You convinced me. Only because I have determined not to be miserable.”

  “Great. Let’s go!”

  A few minutes later found the couple dressed up and driving to one of the nicer restaurants in town. Instead of ordering dinner, they asked for the dessert tray and then settled on key lime pie and turtle cheesecake. They ate quietly, each savoring their dessert and looked around the room, watching the people around them. Darcy broke the silence.

  “So, have you sat with your little charts and finished mapping out your life yet?”

  Elizabeth swallowed and then answered. “Not really. I have a better idea.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I still want to fly, so I need to find out what I need to do for that. The Air Force discharged me because with my therapy hours and medical needs, I’m non-deployable, but they never stated I couldn’t fly permanently. I got my private license in college, so I just need to figure out where to go from here.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “Yeah, I mean, I’ve also looked into grad school, but it doesn’t look super appealing right now. I’m still young. I’ve got time to figure it out.”

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth, taking in her vulnerable eyes and her curly hair flowing down her shoulders. He tucked a strand behind her ear. She closed her eyes as his hand traced her jawline before pulling her hands into his.

  “I love you,” he said as her lips pulled into a gentle smile.

  “I love you too.”

  He sighed and let the moment linger a little longer. “Elizabeth. Can I ask you a question?”

  “You already did.”

  He smiled and then his countenance turned serious. “Really, though. Can I ask you a question?”

  When Elizabeth nodded, Darcy gathered his courage.

  “I know I’ve asked you this already, but the first time was all wrong. I want this second time to be meaningful, but I also want you to be ready. I want you to know that you are the one in charge here. You are the one that I care about, not the answer to this question. Whether you say yes or no, I will feel the same way about you.” Darcy looked around nervously. “I feel like the first time I asked you, I asked out of passion, but this time I want to ask because it’s the only way I feel like I can move forward.”

  Darcy rubbed the back of Elizabeth’s hand with his thumb. “You see, I’ve drawn charts too and I’ve mapped out my future, and all I can see in it is you. I’ve thought about moving to Pemberley without you, and I can’t imagine how empty it would be. I’ve rarely been back since Dad passed without seeing ghosts except when you were there last year. You are the only thing that keeps me from returning back to that jerk you knew when we first met.

  “I love you, Elizabeth Bennet. I love you from your curly hair to your toes. I loved you yesterday and today and tomorrow. I’ve loved you from almost the first minute I met you. I love how passionate you are. I love watching you think. I love watching you put your mind to something and achieving it. I wish I could be more like you. I feel like I just stroll through life or run from my problems, but Elizabeth—you—are fire. You blaze through life, leaving a burn path behind you that simply lets the world know you’ve been there and where you are going next.

  “If I could have anything, I would have you here, by my side forever, but I can’t demand that of you, nor will I. All I can do is ask. Elizabeth, would you do me the honor of being my wife? Walking beside me to meet the future together? I love you, Elizabeth.”

  Darcy finished his speech. He watched Elizabeth’s face, yearning for any hint of what her answer might be. Her eyes squinted ever so little at the corners while he spoke. She had tilted her head as she listened and crossed and uncrossed her legs. Now, though, she stilled. He felt how perfectly her hands fit into his while he waited.

  A waiter glanced at the drinks but beat a path to the next table.

  He would not push. He had done that in the hospital. The thing he had learned about Elizabeth through these months of recuperation was the Elizabeth Bennet could not be pushed; she could only be pulled, and Darcy was pulling the only way he knew, by granting her the freedom to choose. He kept his eyes on hers and waited.

  “Yes,” came a voice, more like a whisper than a real sound.

  “What?” Darcy asked, hoping against hope that his hearing had not deceived him.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said, louder this time. “Yes, I will marry you.”

  “You will?”

  “Are you questioning my decision?”

  “Absolutely not, just my hearing!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

  Darcy could only grin.

  Darcy stood up, then stepped onto the chair. A waiter carrying a large tray saw Darcy and put the tray on the first table he could find. “Excuse me. Sir!”

  Darcy merely looked at him before raising his glass.

  “Excuse me, sir!”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?” Darcy called, his deep voice reverberating through the restaurant as those who had not already been watching the spectacle craned their necks to see him.

  “This woman here—Elizabeth, stand up—this woman here has just done me the honor of accepting my hand.”

 
A roar went through the crowd as people clapped and cheered.

  “Now, this woman—one of your own, by the way, her parents run Longbourn Inn—this woman right here, has demanded that I kiss her.”

  The small roar of the crowd was loud before, but at this, the noise threatened to bring down the roof. Darcy shrugged, jumped off the chair, and caught Elizabeth’s hand. He tugged her up to face him, his arms wrapping completely around her.

  “I love you, Elizabeth Bennet”―he took her face in his hands, bent his head to hers, the surging passion raging through his veins like a drug, and kissed her.

  Eventually, what seemed like an eternity later, but must have only been moments, Darcy pulled away from Elizabeth, keeping his hand on her cheek and gazed down at her.

  “Embarrassing enough?”

  “Not even a good try,” Elizabeth said through a wide smile.

  “Elizabeth Bennet. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else. I promise to love and keep you for the rest of my life—and longer than that if I can get away with it. I promise to help you to achieve your dreams. I promise to have you and hold you. I promise to give you everything I can to make you happier than you’ve ever been.”

  “I love you, William,” Elizabeth said as one tear slid down her cheek.

  Darcy brought her back into his arms. “Wanna finish dessert?” he asked, laughing in her ear as the patrons around them cheered again.

  24

  When Darcy and Elizabeth returned to Netherfield and told the Bingleys the news, Charles embraced Elizabeth in a bear hug, squeezing her until she could not breathe. He patted Darcy’s back with large smacking sounds while laughing in huge guffaws. Jane squealed while holding Elizabeth’s hands and gave Darcy a hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “Welcome to the family.”

  “I can’t believe it finally happened,” said Charles as he pulled champagne out of the refrigerator. “I’ve been saving this bottle for months!”

  “I’ve been praying for it for so long,” Jane said, rubbing his shoulders affectionately. “William is the best of men. Lizzy—look at the two of you. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”