The Flying Cavalier

by Gilbert, Morris

  “And you must write me, too. Write in care of the hospital here. I’ll have it forwarded to me wherever I might be.”

  “I’ll write you back as soon as I hear from you.”

  Somehow the thought of Ringer leaving was both good news and bad. She had grown to depend on him to take care of Bedford and now knew she would have difficulty finding someone to watch Bedford.

  Ringer must have read her thoughts, for he said, “That lad I was playing draughts with? His name is Farley. Comes from somewhere around the north of England. He’ll be here another couple of months. He’s told me several times he’d like to help you with Bedford. He loves dogs.”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful! I’ll speak to him before I go.”

  They finished their pound cake and then went to find James Farley. He was a shy twenty-five-year-old who agreed at once to keep Bedford as Ringer Jones had done. “He’s a lot of company, mum,” he said, smiling at her with a crooked grin. “I’ve got a dog myself back home. Not so big as Bedford, but I miss him a lot.”

  “It would be a great help to me, Farley,” Jo said.

  Jo left the two men, whistled for Bedford, who was roaming the grounds, and started down the steps. The rain was still coming down, and she fumbled with the umbrella, trying to get it opened. It resisted her stubbornly, and engaged in this, she caught her heel on the top of a step. She was pitched forward, and as she fell, she threw the umbrella wide and cartwheeled her arms. She came down hard on her left wrist and left elbow and cried out with pain. She had fallen into a puddle of water and was struggling to get up. Bedford was no help at all as he came to her and nudged her.

  “Oh, I say, Miss Jo! That was a bad one!” She felt strong hands under her and looked up to see that Farley and Ringer had come to her assistance.

  “We seen you take a header. Are you all right?”

  “Just my left arm. I popped my elbow, I think.”

  “Better come inside and let Doctor Laurent take a look at it.”

  “Oh, it’ll be all right if I get home.”

  “None of that now,” Ringer said. “They teach us here to pay attention to the nurses and the doctors, so come now, and no protests.”

  Twenty minutes later Jo was sitting in Doctor Laurent’s room with her coat off. He had examined her elbow and said, “Not broken, of course, but it’s going to be very stiff for a few days. I’m going to give you something for the pain. Otherwise you won’t sleep tonight. And I want you to wear it in a sling.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I feel like such a fool,” Jo grinned wryly. “Falling down. It always makes you feel so silly.”

  “I guess it could happen to anyone.”

  Jo tested her elbow and winced with the pain. “You know the first thing anyone does when they fall down like that?”

  “Why, no. I don’t think I do.”

  “No matter how bad it hurts, you look around to see if anybody saw you.” Jo managed a smile and said, “You feel like such a clumsy oaf.”

  “Well, I see that you need to get home, and you can’t walk through this deluge.”

  “Oh, I’ll be all right. I can hold the umbrella with this arm.”

  “Now, no argument. Danielle’s going off duty in thirty minutes. It won’t hurt her to take off a little bit early.”

  Jo protested, but Doctor Laurent insisted. She sat there waiting until Danielle came in.

  “Well, I heard you had a fall.”

  “Yes. It’s a wonder I didn’t break my neck.” Getting to her feet, Jo said, “You really don’t have to take me home.”

  “Don’t be silly! And I’m not taking you home. I’m taking you to our house.”

  “But I can’t do that.”

  “Of course you can. Gabby thinks you’ve been neglecting her. Come along now.”

  Dani was a strong-minded woman, and thirty minutes later Jo was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the Laurents’ parlor with Katherine Laurent fussing over her. Gabby was right up in her face, her eyes anxious.

  “Did you hurt yourself bad, Miss Jo?”

  “Not bad at all. Just popped my elbow a little. It’ll be all right in a day or two.”

  “Do you feel like playing with me?”

  “Why, Miss Jo can’t play with you! She’s been hurt!” Katherine Laurent exclaimed.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you be the nurse, and I’ll be the patient. You can wait on me, and I’ll be crabby and fuss like a real bad patient.”

  Jo had discovered she had a gift for making up games like this that Gabby loved, and so the game began at once. Gabby threw herself into it and even made herself a uniform, of sorts, out of an old dress. Dani fixed a headpiece for her that could pass for a nurse’s cap.

  The day went pleasantly, and Jo was glad she had not had to go home to her apartment. Bedford was glad too, because he was permitted in the kitchen, where he dozed by the warm stove happily.

  She stayed for supper, and it was one of those rare nights when Lance Winslow came back. He seemed concerned to hear about her elbow and after supper had insisted on driving her and Bedford back to her place. Gabby wanted to go too, but he said, “It’s raining too hard. You’ll have to make it another time.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll come back tomorrow, and we can play patient and nurse some more. Will that be all right, Gabby?” Jo smiled at the girl.

  “Oh yes! That was fun! Papa, you could come and be the doctor.”

  As usual Lance looked uncomfortable whenever Gabby urged him to come. He managed a smile and said, “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be a very good doctor.”

  Lance’s car was small, and Bedford took up most of the backseat. Lance drove carefully, and when they got to her place, he said, “I’d better see you in.”

  They went inside, and as soon as they did, Bedford went to examine his food bowl.

  “You’d think that dog was starved to death! He thinks he has to eat every half hour.”

  “Sounds like me when I was a boy.”

  “Will you stay and have tea?”

  “No. I’d better get back.” He hesitated, then said, “That was good the way you made up that game with Gabby. I wish I could do things like that.”

  “Oh, I think you could if you just had time.”

  Lance seemed wistful. “I used to do things like that before her mother died, before the war. Another thing that’s lost.” He was standing beside the door. His uniform was wet, but he seemed oblivious to it. “Is there going to be anything left by the time this war is over?”

  Jo moved closer. Her arm was paining her considerably, but she ignored it. “What are you going to do when you go back tonight to the station?”

  “Go over reports and think about the mission tomorrow.”

  “Don’t do that,” Jo said. “I’m lonely. Would you mind staying and talking to me?”

  Lance stared at her with surprise. “I wouldn’t think you’d be the lonely type.”

  “Why should you think that? I get lonely like anyone else. You forget I’m far away from home just like you are.”

  “You mean it?” Actually Lance had dreaded going back to the station, and the invitation came as an unexpected relief. “If you wouldn’t mind, I will stay for a while.”

  “You’ll have to help me make tea. A one-armed cook isn’t much good in the kitchen, and I think we have some sweets to go with it.”

  It was a pleasant time for both of them. The rain outside was falling gently, and Lance built a fire in the fireplace, and they sat on a couch facing it.

  “Nothing like a fire on a cold, wet evening,” Jo said sleepily.

  Watching the yellow flames lick upward and pleased with the sight of the sparks that ascended up the chimney, Lance said, “I’ve always loved a fire. I was always glad to see winter come because we could have a fire in the fireplace.”

  “I felt the same way at home. We had this big old house with a huge fireplace. My father would take me out with him to cut wood, and we’d haul it back
in an old truck. It was such hard work, but I loved it.”

  “Tell me more about what you were like when you were a girl.”

  Surprised, Jo looked up. “Why would you want to know that?”

  Lance studied her face. She seemed to be such a strong woman, and yet there was a clear, classic beauty about her that attracted him. She had an inner stillness he did not find in many women, and now as her green eyes caught the reflection of the fire, he thought with a shock, Why, she’s beautiful! With the shadows flickering over her face, he saw the clear running lines of her jaw, the smooth sweep of her cheek, and the high, smooth forehead. Her red hair gave off glints from the reflections of the fire, and he found himself admiring her as he had never admired any woman—except Noelle. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Jo,” he said suddenly, not meaning to do so.

  Jo was stunned. “I’m not really, but I’m glad you think so.”

  “Didn’t mean to come out with that,” Lance said, somewhat astonished at himself. “I don’t go around tossing out compliments like that.”

  “No. I’ve noticed that.”

  Lance gave her a quick look. “What does that mean?”

  “You’re too serious. You’re so busy killing Germans, you don’t have time to pass along compliments to women—or to your pilots.”

  The fire popped and sent a spark out on the rug in front. Lance reached out and covered it with his foot. He ground it into a cinder and then sat back. “I suppose you’re right,” he said quietly. “I’d be a better commander if I wasn’t so hard on them.”

  “I think you’re a wonderful commander, but men like to be encouraged.” She smiled then and laughed. “So do women.”

  The clock on the mantel ticked slowly as the two sat there talking, and he said again, “Tell me what you were like when you were a girl.”

  “Like all other girls, I suppose. I grew up being very unhappy with the way I looked. When I was fourteen, I was certain I was going to be all legs and arms with no body at all. Like a huge spider.”

  “Well, it didn’t turn out that way.”

  “But I didn’t know that. Girls are very sensitive. My complexion got bad when I was fifteen, and so the world ended again. When I was sixteen, I fell in love with my science teacher who was thirty and happily married.”

  “Not really!”

  “Oh, not really, of course, but I thought I was,” Jo said. She smiled now at the memory and leaned back, cuddling her arm. She had taken a pain pill, and it had made her rather dreamy. She murmured, “Poor Mr. Shelton. I embarrassed him so much.”

  “You mean you actually told him you loved him?”

  “Oh yes! I had no shame. I wanted him to leave his wife, and we’d run off together to Hawaii or somewhere.”

  “That must have come as quite a shock to the fellow.”

  Jo laughed aloud. “I’ve never seen anybody so shook up. He fled as if I’d waved a gun in his face and spent the next year dodging me. I don’t think he ever looked straight at me again.”

  “Did you ever go tell him that it wasn’t all that serious?”

  “No. You don’t understand young girls very much. I couldn’t face him. I felt so rejected.”

  “Tell me some more about your aborted romances.”

  The fire was soaking into Lance now, and the dinner had been excellent at the Laurents’. Outside a wind was blowing, and the rain was still pattering on the windows, but inside, the room was warm and the lights were low. He listened as Jo continued to speak of her childhood.

  Finally she exclaimed, “Here I am talking all about my silly self when I was a girl! Surely you don’t want to hear more of that.”

  Lance was silent for a moment. “It’s good to hear about things like that. That’s like another world, isn’t it, Jo? You can’t go back there, and I can’t go back to being the boy I was. Where is that boy, I wonder?” He half closed his eyes. “I came across an old photograph of myself not long ago. I was skinny and too tall and not very good at sports. Back then I didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do with myself. You know, I think it’s all a myth about the golden childhood. Most of my childhood I spent being embarrassed.”

  Jo suddenly reached over and held his arm. “You’re the first one I ever heard say that, Lance, and I feel exactly the same way. I went from one disaster, or so I thought, to another.”

  Lance was very conscious of her grasp on his arm. He said quietly, “I guess everyone has to lose that time of life and go on to something else.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “But that’s the way life is.”

  The two sat there, and finally Jo got up, saying, “I’ve got some records and a new machine. Like to hear some music?”

  “Yes.”

  She played several records, and Lance seemed to enjoy it, but then she put on a record of “Clair de Lune.” Immediately Lance got to his feet. “Well,” he said, his face tight with strain, “I’ve got to go. Thanks for taking my mind off of things.”

  “It’s early yet. Do you have to go now?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  His jaw was tight and suddenly Jo understood. “That song. It must have been one of your wife’s favorites.”

  “Yes, it was. She loved it.”

  He stood there for a moment, and the pain in his eyes was so cruel that Jo could have cried for him. “I’m sorry, Lance. I wish I’d known.”

  “There’s no way you could have known. It’s just that it brings back old memories, and they’re like knives going through me, Jo.” His voice rose a little, and he shut his eyes suddenly, his lips forming a tight line.

  Jo moved over to him, reached up, and put her hand on his neck. She let it rest there, and when his eyes opened with surprise, she said quietly, “You loved your wife. That’s a rare and beautiful gift.”

  “She was a rare and beautiful woman.” Lance’s voice was hoarse. He stood there with grief etched into his face, and then suddenly he reached out and pulled her toward him. It had been a strange evening for him, and for this one moment, he released the bondage he had kept himself under.

  As for Jo, she knew he was going to kiss her. She lifted her face as his lips touched hers. She sensed the regret, the pain, the loss, and the loneliness that lay in this man and knew he had burst forth from the prison he had kept himself in for a long time. She did not turn away. She lifted her good hand and placed it on his shoulder.

  Lance knew this woman had fire and spirit and a soft depth, and he had not been stirred so powerfully since his wife had died. With that brief kiss, Lance realized he could not live alone the rest of his life. But when he stepped back and looked at her, he found that he could not speak steadily. “You’ve got the power to stir a man, Jo. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “I guess,” Jo said quietly, “we’re entitled to one mistake. But I’m not sure it was a mistake.”

  “You’re not? You mean you’re not angry?”

  “Of course not. Why would I be? You’re lonely and so am I.”

  “You’re different from most women.” He shook his head and said, “I’d better go. It might be dangerous for me to stay here.”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  Her words halted him, and he turned to her. Lance knew there was danger for them, no matter what Jo said. He said quietly, “You’ve been a comfort, Jo.”

  As he turned and left, Jo stood still for a long moment, thinking of what a strange man he was. She knew she would think of his kiss for weeks.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “I Believe in Love”

  As usual, on Sunday morning Revelation Brown was busily recruiting every man he could from the aerodrome to attend church. He went into the enlisted men’s barracks and in a loud voice began to cheerfully encourage them. “Come on, fellas. It’s the Sabbath Day, the day that the Lord hath made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

  From some a groan of protest went up, and Tom Morrison peered at him sourly. “Go away, Rev! This is the only morni
ng we have to sleep.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to sleep. Come along now, Tom. There’s a good fellow. The Lord may have a message for you this morning, and you need it.”

  Tom Morrison stared at Rev Brown, whose bright, cheerful face, ugly as it was, seemed to be filled with joy. With a groan he got out of bed and began pulling his clothes on. “I suppose I might as well,” he complained. “You’re not going to leave me alone unless I do.”

  “The Lord’s going to bless you today, Tom. I feel it.” Rev slapped his companion mechanic on the back and then proceeded down the line of cots. He did receive a few curses on the way, which he took in good spirit, winking and appearing not to be touched at all by the language. When he left the barracks, he had five men who had grudgingly agreed to go with him to the service. Rev piled them all into a truck and headed into the center of town. As they unloaded, he saw Logan standing beside Doctor Laurent and his family, preparing to go in. “Hello, Lieutenant!” he said cheerfully. “Ready to get a blessing from God? The manna’s going to fall this morning.”

  Logan, as usual, could not help smiling. “I need it, Rev. Good morning, men.” He received several sleepy greetings from the mechanics, and as he turned to go inside, he said to Danielle, “That fellow is a wonder.”

  “I’ve never known anyone like him. Every time I see him, he has a good word about the Lord.”

  “Well, he gets on some people’s nerves,” Logan said, “but he means business with his faith. I’ll say that for him.”

  The two walked side by side, following Doctor Laurent and his wife. Looking across the church, Logan saw Lance sitting toward the back beside Gabby. “I’m glad to see the captain spending time with that daughter of his.”

  “So am I. I think he feels guilty about it. Lately he’s been different, though.”

  The two took their seat, and soon the service began. The song leader was a tall, powerful man with a voice to match. Most of the songs Logan did not know, but a few he did. He admired Danielle’s clear contralto voice, and once, between hymns, he murmured, “My folks would enjoy this church. It’s got a good spirit.”