Cherished Wings (Return to the Home Front Book 1)

by Tracey L. Dragon

  Times were hard on everyone. Just about every family had a relative serving in the military—Fran’s brother, Hank, was fighting in southern Italy, her brother-in-law in North Africa. When a Western Union delivery boy rode his bicycle down the street, everybody held his or her breath, only to let it out again when he passed.

  Fran saw Amy move ahead of the crowd exiting the factory door like a herd stampeding a gate. It was Friday after all. With five grueling days of work behind them, everyone looked forward to blowing off a little steam—to forget there was a world beyond their shores where friends and family members were being shot at and killed.

  Waving to a co-worker, Fran turned to her friend as she drew up beside her. She tucked Amy’s arm through her own and led her toward Caroline Street and home.

  She could feel Amy’s suppressed excitement waiting to explode. “All right. Spill it.”

  Amy squeezed Fran’s arm against her side. “You’ll never guess in a million years.”

  Fran rolled her blue eyes at the amber-flecked ones sparkling up at her. Amy with her short curly mop of hair looked like an elfin imp compared to Fran’s five feet, six inches. She brought energy and lightheartedness to Fran’s serious world. “If I’ll never guess in a million years, why should I bother trying?”

  “Aw, Frannie Jones, did anyone ever tell you, you’re absolutely no fun. None whatsoever.”

  “On more than one occasion,” she said dryly. “But that’s why I have you for my best friend, you manage to find more fun than you can handle.”

  “Fine. If you won’t even attempt a guess, I shan’t tell you.”

  “Don’t. See if I care. I’m not the one needing company tonight. I’ve a good book at home. I planned to take a long soak in the tub then curl up and read. Mom and I are rolling bandages at the Red Cross in the morning.”

  “Aw, Frannie, do you have to be so difficult? I just need a tiny, itsy-bitsy favor.” Amy moved ahead of her, skipping backwards as she continued to talk. “Red’s coming home tonight, and he’s bringing a Navy buddy of his. The one I told you about. The handsome one.”

  “And . . .?” She put her hand on her hip and raised a brow. “I’m hearing about this now, because . . .?”

  “Well, I would have mentioned it sooner, but we didn’t know until Mom received a wire this morning from Red saying he got a 72-hour liberty pass. They left on the eight o’clock train. My mom’s going to strangle him when he gets here, too. She about fainted when the telegram came. What with Fred fighting the Germans.”

  “Oh, quit pussyfooting around, Ames, and spit it out?”

  Amy barely took a breath before continuing. “I thought you, me, Red, and his friend could make up a foursome tonight. Get together, maybe drive over to the White Elephant. I heard there’s a smashing band playing this weekend.”

  “No, absolutely not. I’m too tired, and I have to get up early again tomorrow.”

  “Come on, Frannie, pretty please. You must go. If you don’t go, then I can’t. I’ve heard so much about Red’s pal. I’m just dying to get to know him.”

  She dug in her heels. “You know how I feel about going out with your brother, Red. It’s awkward with his crush on me.”

  “Yeah, but now that he’s in the Navy and stationed in New York City, I’m sure he’s had the opportunity to meet more sophisticated women. Not that I’m saying you’re not sophisticated or anything,” Amy backpedaled. “I’m sure he’s long since outgrown you by now. Besides, it won’t be like a real date or anything. I’ll just tell him we want to catch a ride with them is all.”

  Fran mentally groaned at her friend’s mildly insulting remark. Anyone would be more sophisticated. After all, Albion, population 5,454 was Small Town USA.

  “I don’t know, Amy.”

  “You’ve just got to do this for me. I’ll owe you big time. Come on, pretty please.”

  Amy’s puppy dog eyes were Fran’s Achilles’ heel. She usually didn’t have the heart to say no when Amy gave her that begging look. That look had caused her to suffer through numerous blind dates with pimply faced, awkward guys whom she’d been told had great personalities, but not tonight. “How about we do it tomorrow instead, Ames? I really don’t feel up to going out tonight.”

  “Aw Fran, that will be one less night I get to spend with Red’s friend. You could be keeping me from my one true love.”

  “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you? Besides, who’s to say Red won’t let you tag along. After all, he hasn’t seen you in quite a while.”

  “Yeah, right. That will happen when pigs fly.” Amy made a face at Fran. “Well at least go to Newberrys and Landaurs with me so I can find something new to wear tonight. Maybe they’ll have something half decent since we went last. I wouldn’t mind a new blouse to go with the rose skirt I bought.”

  “Okay, but first let’s go into the house so I can let Mom know where we’re going. See if she needs anything. Then we can stop at your place before we go.”

  “Mom, I’m home,” Fran called as she opened the screen door to the white clapboard house with its listing front porch.

  “I’m outside,” her mother’s voice carried in through the open, screened window.

  Fran led Amy through the square, uncluttered living room, into the kitchen, and out the back door. The sprawling porch commanded a view of the long, rectangular yard that extended from the house all the way back to the Barge Canal. A gentle breeze flowed through the maple trees that shaded the porch with their yellow, red, and orange leaves.

  The rounded shape of her mother relaxing with her legs resting on a footstool came into view. “I’ve just made a fresh pitcher of lemonade if you girls would like some. Grab a chair and join me. It’s a beautiful Indian summer evening—not too cold.”

  “Thanks Mom, but Amy and I are headed to the stores to do some shopping. Do you need anything?”

  “No, but thanks for asking. I plan to sit here with my feet up until the mosquitoes begin to bite. Dinner will be ready about six-thirty.”

  “We’ll be back by then,” Fran called over her shoulder as she and Amy started off across the lawn toward the street and Amy’s house.

  It didn’t take them long to shop. With the war rationing so many things, there were slim pickings. Amy managed to find the exact shade of polish she’d been searching for but was disappointed when she couldn’t find a blouse her size to match the skirt she wanted to wear tonight. Fran had suggested she try the girl’s department which had earned her an eye-roll. Being petite had its disadvantages.

  Fran hadn’t planned on buying anything new to wear, but when Amy thrust a turquoise sweater at her and insisted it was the perfect color to match her eyes and would go wonderfully well with her auburn hair, she’d given in and tried it on. That was the first mistake. The second was paying the outrageous sum they wanted for it. But for some reason beyond her cognizance, she gave into the urge to purchase it. “Frugal Fran” as Amy had dubbed her on more than one occasion, agreed with her friend. The sweater was perfect for her. She knew the minute she put it on she would buy it.

  After dinner, she enjoyed a long soak in the bathtub and had just gotten out of the tepid water when her mom called up to her.

  “Fran, telephone.”

  Fran grabbed a towel and quickly dried off. She slipped into her terrycloth bathrobe and rushed downstairs. “Who is it?”

  “Amy.” Her mother handed her the phone.

  “What now?” she said ungraciously, afraid she knew exactly what Amy wanted.

  “Just called to warn you.”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “Red’s on a tear and said no way were we going to the White Elephant without you. Said he hadn’t seen you in months and that we would just all come over and sit at your house until you agreed to come. We’ll be there in ten minutes,
and believe you me, you don’t want to be caught in your ratty old housecoat when Red’s buddy arrives.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Fraid so, and I’ve got to run. Just wanted to give you fair warning before we left. After all . . . what are friends for.”

  Amy’s laughter rang in Fran’s ear as she hung up the phone. I’m going to kill her, Fran thought as she made a dash for the stairs. Her khaki wacky friend would be the death of her yet.

  Well, at least it was Red this time, who she actually liked and not one of Amy’s blind dates—which of course was the problem. She only “liked” Red.

  Fran straightened her clothing in front of the mirror one more time, satisfied she’d never looked better. Her shoulder-length hair fell in Betty Grable waves in a complimentary fashion against the rich-blue hue of the new sweater. The long days spent indoors had faded away her pesky summer freckles leaving her skin unblemished and clear. She wore only a light coat of powder, mascara, and lipstick.

  She rechecked the seams of her last pair of silk stockings to make sure they were straight. She’d been nursing the pair along since the beginning of summer. A tiny run stopped by a clear dab of nail polish and a couple of minor snags were deftly hidden on the inside of her leg just above the knee. Thankfully, she hadn’t had to resort to drawing artificial seams with an eye-liner pencil on her bare legs as some girls were doing.

  The knock on the door followed by a chorus of greetings stirred Fran to take one final glance in the mirror before heading downstairs. Amy and Red’s voices were distinctive, and she could clearly make out their boisterous teasing. It was the third voice that stopped her in her tracks—rich, deep, and smooth as fine whiskey. It sent shivers down her spine and struck a chord deep within her.

  As she stepped onto the landing, Red turned in her direction and whistled.

  “Ah, there’s my girl now.”

  She parted her lips to refute his statement, but found the words stuck in her throat when the tall sailor in dress uniform standing beside Red turned to acknowledge her presence.

  The stranger’s mesmerizing eyes locked with hers and for a moment it was as if time stood still.

  Chapter 3

  Fran froze mid-step when a pair of startling blue eyes met hers. A sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her as though their souls had met before. Her hand locked on the stair rail to prevent the unchecked motion of her body as her stride faltered.

  “Are you all right?” The dark-haired man standing at the foot of the stairs stepped forward with an outstretched hand.

  Disconcerted by her visceral reaction to Red’s friend and feeling self-conscious and more than a little clumsy, she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t I be? Now that my guy’s home.” She forced a smile. Ignoring Red’s grin and Amy’s choked expression.

  Red shouldered aside his friend. “Now don’t you be trying to horn in on my gal.” He reached for her hand, tugged her forward, and slid his hands to her waist, lifting her up high.

  She slapped Red’s shoulder. “Put me down you big oaf. You’re embarrassing me in front of your friend.”

  Red swung her down but held her with her feet just above the floor. “How about a kiss from my favorite girl?”

  “In your dreams, sailor, I’m sure you’ve used that line in every port.”

  Red set her down and dramatically crossed his right arm over his heart. “Oh, how you wound me.”

  She rolled her eyes at him and laughed. “I see you can take the boy out of the country, but not the country out of the boy. I would have thought you’d have gained some polish while stationed in the city.”

  “Ouch. Cut to the bone. You’ve sure gotten sassy while I’ve been away.”

  “Just you remember that buster.” She poked him in the chest. “Now how about you quit being rude to your pal and introduce us.”

  “Oh, all right. But don’t you be making sheep’s eyes at him like all the gals in the city. You’d think he was Frank Sinatra or something. He just casts his baby blues at the girls and they practically fall at his feet.”

  His friend cleared his throat. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, Red?”

  Red turned to his buddy and grinned. “Just want to make sure Fran doesn’t become another one of your victims.”

  “Well, how ‘bout you do me the courtesy of an introduction first, you big galoot.”

  “Fran meet Jack. Jack meet Fran. Now that that’s over, what do you say we get going?”

  Jack just shook his head at Red, his eyes sparkling with humor. He then stepped forward and extended his hand. “Lieutenant McOmber at your service, ma’am.”

  Fran put her hand in his and then with indrawn breath withdrew it quickly. “Frances Jones, but please call me Fran.”

  “I’d be honored to, Fran.” His lips curled warmly.

  “All right, Casanova.” Red tucked his arm through Fran’s leading her toward the door and away from his friend. “What do you say we leave? I’m anxious to dance this pretty little redhead around the floor, and boy can her feet move. I’m telling, you. She can jitterbug like there’s no tomorrow. I usually have a hard time keeping up with her—always had a bit of a left foot.”

  Fran flushed at Red’s praise. She hated having attention drawn to her. She’d always been shy that way, but she did love to dance.

  Amy grabbed Jack’s arm. “Come on, Jack.” She led him toward the car. “We can sit in the back, and you can tell me all about yourself.”

  Fran gave her friend a frown. So much for just catching a ride. She had no one to blame but herself for being paired with Red. After all, she opened her mouth and inserted her high-heeled shoe. She wanted to hit herself in the head with it. She replayed her words over again in her mind. Why wouldn’t I be fine, now that my guy’s home? What on earth had come over her?

  Jack’s baby blues, that’s what.

  The ride to the Town of Fancher took only ten minutes which was a good thing otherwise they would have had a hard time justifying the trip. Gasoline being scarce, you just didn’t waste it on long unnecessary travel.

  The parking lot at The White Elephant overflowed with cars. Fran could hear the music spilling out the open windows. The marquee denoted the band’s name in red letters. She’d never heard of them before, but they sounded pretty good. They certainly drew a large following. The guys, tall and spiffy in their uniforms, shouldered their way through the noisy crowd, opening a path for the girls.

  Amy yanked Fran’s hand, tugged her backwards, then glanced at her brother. “Why don’t you guys get us a couple of rum and Cokes while Fran and I search for a table? If there isn’t one to be had, we’ll make our way to that corner.” She pointed to the far side of the room. “We can meet over there.”

  Red nodded and signaled Jack to follow him.

  “Oh. My. God. Isn’t he just divine?” Amy grabbed Fran’s arm and hugged her. “And he’s as nice as he looks.”

  Feeling slightly annoyed with her friend’s assessment of Jack, she snapped. “Right. You heard your brother. Women practically fall at his feet. A guy who looks like that isn’t going to be interested in a couple of country bumpkins like us, Amy.”

  “Oh pooh, Fran. It’s not like we’re a couple of trolls. He said his family lived here until his father enlisted. He likes this part of New York.”

  “Sure, he does,” she said dryly. “He’s the regular farm boy type. Can’t you just imagine him shoveling manure?”

  Amy sputtered.

  “Come on, Ames. You didn’t expect him to insult your home, now did you? Officers are bred to be more tactful than that.”

  “Well, you’re certainly in a snit. What he’d do to offend you?”

  “Nothing.” She shrugged. “I just don’t like his typ
e.”

  “What? Gorgeous and nice?”

  “No. Don’t be a dunce. It’s obvious he’s used to the ladies swarming all over him. And I for one don’t intend to embarrass myself by being one of them.”

  “That’s great.” Amy beamed. “Because I wouldn’t want to be in competition with my best friend.”

  “You know I would never let a boy come between us. He’s all yours,” she said with more conviction than she felt. “Now that we’ve settled that—” She nodded toward the table-filled area, hazy with smoke. “I think that couple’s getting ready to leave. Let’s grab their seats before anyone else does.”

  The guys found them shortly after she and Amy managed to snag the table. Dressed in uniform, they drew quite a bit of attention. Fran couldn’t help but note how all the women’s eyes followed the sailors. They cast admiring glances at Red but goggled over Jack. She thoroughly expected every woman in the room with whom she had the merest of acquaintance to find some excuse or another to stop by the table and say hello. And, of course, get an introduction to Lieutenant McOmber. She felt annoyed again.

  She took several large gulps of her drink hoping to relax. It was silly to allow herself to be put out just because Red’s friend looked good enough to eat and had a voice that could knock your socks off. Honestly, she needed to get a hold of herself.

  “Come on, Red.” She jumped up, grabbed his hand, and tugged. “Let’s dance.”

  He bowed. “Whatever my lady commands.”

  “Oh, quit being a dolt, and dance.”

  They danced a fast one followed by a slow one and then another fast one before they sat down. Fran couldn’t help but watch Jack and Amy as they moved about the floor. Jack danced with a smooth flair, and she felt a wee bit envious of Amy. Red, bless his heart, danced with more enthusiasm than skill.