Fran fumbled in the dark for the clothes she’d taken off earlier, trying to be quiet lest she wake her mom. She crept down the stairs, tiptoed past her mother’s room, and paused at the kitchen door. Damn, she’d removed her makeup.
She cracked open the back door and slipped out onto the dimly lit porch.
Jack stood leaning against its rail, feet crossed, arms folded.
She froze at the sight of him, not sure what to do.
“Hello, Frannie Girl,” Jack murmured.
Fran trembled as his warm husky voice sent shivers down her spine. There was just something about the way he said her name. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.
I wanted to spend some time alone with you before I have to leave. I was afraid I might not get the chance tomorrow.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you here.”
“Liar.”
Fran sat down on the edge of the old rocking chair that had been on the porch for as long as she could remember and looked up at the shadowed figure of Jack. “Why are you making this difficult for me? I don’t want to get involved with you. I don’t want to hurt my friends or get my heart broken.”
“Ah, Frannie girl.” Jack squatted down in front of her and took her hands in his. His thumbs caressed the tops of them, soothing her. “Don’t you know? Neither of us has a choice in the matter. I knew it the moment I turned and saw you standing at the top of the stairs.”
“Have you lost your mind? You’re not making any sense. You can have any girl you want. Why me?”
“It’s our destiny. We belong together. I can feel it in my bones, and I know you do too. That’s why you’re scared. It’s a powerful thing between us.”
“I’m just an all-around average girl from a rural community. I’m not sophisticated like the girls in New York City. You’d get bored with me in no time.”
“Never.” He raised her hand and kissed the back of it.
“It just wouldn’t work. You’d go back to your duty station and forget me as soon as some gorgeous girl caught your eye. I’d be a wreck wondering what you’re doing.”
“That’s your own insecurity talking. Women have thrown themselves at me for years. I’ve never taken more than a passing interest. I’ve never misled or been less than honest with them, and I’m not misleading you now. Since I seldom receive mail, I was always envious of the letters Red received from you girls. I’d always coax him into reading them to me. Amy’s were usually about friends and family, but yours were always insightful and funny. They always brightened my day.”
“I wish I knew what to think.” She pressed the fingertips of her right hand against her forehead. “You’ve had a year to learn about me through my letters, I’ve had twenty-four hours to get to know you.”
Jack squeezed her hand. “All I’m asking is that you give it a little more time before you make up your mind.”
“I’m not sure if I can.” She shook her head. “I don’t want my heart broken.”
“It won’t be.”
“How can you say that with any certainty? You don’t know what the future holds. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a war on and you’re a Navy pilot.”
“Aw, Fran.” He pulled her against him and pressed her head to his shoulder. “There are no guarantees in life, but I can promise if something should happen, I will be waiting on the other side for you.”
“But what am I supposed to do in the meantime? I’ll be here missing you. I’m the one whose heart will be broken. I’ll be the one left behind.”
“True love lasts a life time and beyond. I may no longer be here in the physical sense, but you’ll know that I’m here in spirit. I’ll be the whisper in the wind and the early springtime call of the geese. I’ll be the summer sun on your face, the rustle of the autumn leaves, and the first kiss of a snowflake on your lips. You will go on with your life, Frannie girl, but you will always be loved.”
“I don’t know, Jack. I lost my father when I was fourteen. My brother’s fighting in Italy. I don’t know if I can risk it.”
“Life is a risk. Loving is a risk. You just have to find the strength in yourself to be willing to give yourself over to it—to choose to truly live your life to the fullest, to love to the fullest. Can you do that for me?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Why don’t we go over and sit on the porch swing together. I’d like to hold you and just talk. Okay?” She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and nodded.
“That’s my girl.”
They talked about their hopes and dreams, and Fran told him of her longing for a more exciting life, to travel the world, but due to her innate shyness and fear of meeting new people felt trapped in the safety of her small town. She said she wasn’t sure what she wanted. She just knew she wanted more.
Jack understood about needing more. He said that’s what drove him to fly—the desire to experience a sense of freedom like no other. He assured her she would be able to see the world at his side, and he’d let no harm come to her.
She and Jack sat on the porch until the first rays of light flickered against the dark sky. They had stopped talking more than an hour before. Fran sat in the crook of Jack’s arm, her head resting on his chest, tucked underneath his chin. She felt tired, but alive in a way she’d never been before. With Jack, she felt all things were possible if she were just willing to try. The question was, did she want to risk it? Could she? Could she overcome her own fears and anxiety to reach for something beyond the safety and sphere of her own world? She wasn’t sure.
“Fran.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t want to move from the warmth of his arm.
“As much as I’d like to stay, it’s beginning to get light, and I’ll need to sneak back into the house before anyone gets up.”
She lifted her head to smile at him, his features now discernible in the first rays of dawn. “Okay,” she murmured, reluctant to let go.
“I’m leaving on the six P.M. train. Can you drop by Amy’s this afternoon? Even if we can’t be alone, I’d like to spend whatever time we can together.”
She nodded her head against his chest again, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
His hand rubbed up and down her arm giving her comfort.
“Will you come to the train station to see me off?”
Tears formed in her eyes and she bit her trembling lip. “I don’t know if I can. I might start crying in front of Amy and Red.”
His eyes deepen with warmth and understanding. “Does it matter if they see? I think we should be honest with them.”
“No. Not yet. Once you get back to the city you may change your mind about me.”
He wrapped both arms around her and rocked back and forth. “I won’t.”
“Still, I’d rather wait. This is all new to me. I’m not ready to talk about it yet with anyone.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want I’ll go along with it for now but promise me you will come to the station. Please.”
“All right.” She sniffed.
He gave her a squeeze. “Now walk me to the steps, then go to bed and get some sleep.”
Jack took one step down off the porch then turned and pressed her close, his eyes searching hers. “May I kiss you goodnight?”
Chapter 9
Fran stretched languorously under the covers, her mind still lost in what must surely have been a dream. Had she really spent the night rocking on the porch with Jack? Her mind went back over the hazy details and then recalled the kiss. She touched her fingertips to her mouth. No, it hadn’t been a dream.
When Jack kissed her, she melted like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. She’d simply wilted against him, her legs refusing to
hold her up. His sinewy arms pressed her to his chest. When his lips touched hers, the world turned on its axis. She didn’t know kissing could be so wondrous or infuse one with such an immense feeling of joy. But Jack’s kiss had done just that. It had been so deeply possessive, she felt branded from head to toe.
Glancing at the bedside clock that now read half past noon, she tossed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Gads, she needed some coffee. Then she needed to shower and hurry over to Amy’s. She’d promised Jack she’d be there and the day was half gone.
A bath and a cup of coffee later, Fran’s legs ate up the ground between her house and Amy’s. As much as she wanted to see Jack, she felt nervous at doing so, almost shy. She hoped it wouldn’t feel awkward with everyone around.
She raised her hand to rap on the Lake’s door but stopped when she heard voices coming from the backyard. Turning, she stepped down from the front porch and went to the back to find Red, Amy, and Jack engaged in what appeared to be a heated game of croquet. There seemed to be some good-natured ribbing going on.
“Hey, Fran,” Amy called to her.
Jack’s head snapped up. She kept her eyes focused on her friend.
“You guys sound like you’re having fun. I could hear you from the front porch.”
“Well, thank goodness you’re here. These two . . .” Amy pointed her mallet at the boys. “Have been ganging up on me every chance they get. I no sooner finish my turn and one or the other is knocking my ball halfway across the yard. At least the next game, the numbers will be even.”
“Shame on you.” Fran wagged a finger at Red before turning to face Jack. “And you—” She brought her eyes up to meet Jack’s sparkling ones. “Ought to know as an officer and a gentleman it isn’t fair to take advantage of the weaker sex.”
Jack chortled. “You’ve got to be kidding, right? Amy may be a half-pint, but believe you me, she has given as good as she’s got. She’s taken pure delight in smashing my ball to kingdom-come every chance she could.”
“Right?” Jack glanced over at his buddy.
Red turned to Fran. “You know how Amy is. She’s as competitive as you are when it comes to games, and she wields that mallet just as viciously. Believe me, it’s taken the two of us to fend her off.”
Amy scowled at the boys. “Don’t you believe a word of it.”
Fran laughed. “You guys go ahead and finish up. I’ll just take a seat on the steps here and watch. I’ve a feeling I shall be vastly entertained.”
Red snorted.
Amy harrumphed.
Jack’s eye’s glowed.
“Help yourself to the lemonade on the table,” Amy said, before turning to take up the game again.
It didn’t take Fran long to agree with Amy. It did seem as though the boys took every chance available to knock Amy’s ball away from a bracket. But she also noticed, after Red began to grumble, that Jack had begun to aggressively attack his partner as well.
“Hey, I thought you were my pal,” Red called over his shoulder as he trotted off after the ball Jack just knocked to the end of the yard.
“All’s fair in love and war. The winner takes the spoils.”
Red swung his mallet and hit his ball. “Damn and double damn,” he muttered.
Jack’s strategy became obvious to Fran. Simply obliterate the competition. In a few short strokes his green ball cleared the two end brackets smacking into the goal post. He turned to Amy and Red. “I’ll leave you two to battle it out. I’m going to help myself to some lemonade.” He strode with an animal’s grace across the yard, up the steps and past Fran to pour himself a cold drink. Then he sat next to her, his thigh resting lightly against hers.
She quivered at the slight touch.
Although Jack’s eyes remained on the game in progress, he spoke in a low voice to her, “How are you this morning?”
“Fine,” she whispered.
“Fine?” Jack’s eyes turned from the game briefly to search hers. “I’d hoped for better than just fine. Something more along the lines of fantastic, ecstatic, deeply enamored.” His eyes twinkled with humor. “But I forget my Frannie girl’s a cautious one.”
She glanced at Red and Amy who were arguing over the placement of a ball and then back at Jack. “I’m cautiously happy.”
Jack’s lips quirked. His cheek dimpled. “That’s at least a start. We’ll just have to keep working on ecstatic.”
“How? You’re going away, remember?”
Jack looked off into the distance. “As if I could forget. It seems I’ve waited forever to find you, doesn’t feel quite fair I have to leave.” He turned to her, an earnest expression on his face. “But I give you my word, love, I will write every chance I get. Promise me you’ll write back. Promise you won’t forget me.”
She glanced at him sadly. “I don’t think it’s me that’s likely to forget.”
Jack studied her for a moment, his jaw set. He slid his hand over hers and gave it a quick squeeze. “Looks like the game’s about over.”
The thunk of a ball hitting the end post and Red’s crow of delight signaled the end. Fran scooted to her left, putting more space between her and Jack.
“Rat fink.” Amy brandished her mallet at her brother who ducked just in time. “You cheated.”
“Did not. You’re just a spoil sport.”
“Am not.” Amy gave him her back and stalked toward the porch.
“Are so.” Red’s shoulders shook with laughter as he followed his sister. “You never could stand losing at anything. It’s obvious you haven’t changed a bit since I’ve been gone.”
Amy ignored him. “Excuse me,” she said to Fran.
Fran stood to allow Amy to pass then followed her up onto the porch.
Amy poured herself a glass of lemonade and held the pitcher out to refill Fran’s before turning to the boys. “Anyone else?”
Both Jack and Red stepped forward.
“Mom’s making an early dinner. You’re invited to stay, of course,” Amy said to her.
“Thanks, I’d like that.”
An awkward silence fell around them for a moment. Fran felt the unspoken dread.
They were getting down to the wire. Now it was just a waiting game—waiting for the inevitable feeling of loss that hovered over them to settle in once the boys bid their final goodbyes. She wished now she’d stayed home. She preferred to remember Jack sitting on her back porch not here with everyone pretending this was just another afternoon of fun and games.
“Come on.” Amy set her lemonade down. “Let’s play another round of croquet before Mom brings out dinner. Girls against boys this time.” She smirked at Red, then Jack. “You guys don’t stand a chance.”
Red groaned.
Jack’s mouth twitched.
Fran rose to the challenge. “I want the red mallet. It’s my lucky color.” She sprang off the porch behind Amy. “I hope you boys don’t choke on our dust.”
Jack grinned at Red. “That’s a challenge if I ever heard one. Are they bragging or are we in for a drubbing?”
“With those two, it’ll most likely be the latter.” Red shook his head. “Come on, let’s go get it over with so when Mom brings out the food, we can eat. I’m hungry.”
“Nothing new there. You’re always hungry.”
“Yeah, but just the smell of my mom’s fried chicken makes my mouth water.”
“Hey, you guys,” Amy called. “Quit gabbing like a couple of old biddies. We haven’t got all day, you know.”
Red shook his head. “How have I put up with her for twenty-one years without killing her is beyond me. Does your sister drive you as crazy as mine does me?”
“All the time. But . . .” Jack’s expression sobered. “I’d give anything to put up with it righ
t now.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Jack’s lips quirked with amusement. “Come on. Let’s let the ladies have at us. Something tells me it’s going to be a battle of epic proportions.”
“Red,” Amy yelled, “you coming or not?”
“All right, all right, but you know you’re only going to get beat by the stronger more dominant sex. You haven’t a chance,” Red crowed and followed Jack off the porch and onto the lawn.
The last of the afternoon was spent in good-natured teasing as Fran and Amy ribbed the boys over their loss to the weaker sex.
The boys took it in stride.
Amy’s mother joined them on the porch after carrying out a tray laden with food.
As the pleasant day waned, the sunny sky turned cloudy. A perfect reflection of Fran’s mood, and she suspected, that of those around her. Everyone was trying to ignore the elephant in the room—the ticking clock.
Finally, Mrs. Lake said, “Well, boys, have you got everything packed and ready to go?”
“Duffle bags full,” Red responded.
“I hope you have room for some sandwiches. It’s a long train ride, and I’m sure you’ll get hungry before the nights over. Thought I’d use up the leftover chicken and wrap up the last of the molasses cookies for you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Much obliged, Mrs. Lake,” Jack said. “The meal was great. I appreciate your hospitality and for putting up with me this weekend.”
“No trouble at all. Any friend of my son is always welcome in my home. You come back again.”
“I’d like that.” Jack stood and held out his hand.
Mrs. Lake ignored it and hugged him instead. “Consider yourself a part of the family, and please bring my son back home to me in one piece.” She turned, wiped her eyes with her apron, and went back into the house.
Cherished Wings (Return to the Home Front Book 1) Page 6