Lone Eagle

by Danielle Steel

  “I love you too, Joe. I've been so worried about you.” Far more than she could ever tell him.

  “We'll get through this, baby. I promise. And when it's all over, we'll have a great time together.” It was not the kind of promise that her mother was hoping for, but she didn't care. Just being with him was enough.

  Joe came back from Washington, sooner than expected, in two days, and moved into the house with them. He was courteous, considerate, polite, well behaved, and extremely respectful of Kate, which pleased her parents. Even her mother was impressed by how he behaved. The only thing he hadn't done, which would have pleased them more, was ask for her hand in marriage.

  Her father skirted the subject delicately one afternoon when he came home early from the office, and found Joe in the kitchen sketching designs for a new airplane. There was no way to get it built now, but when the war was over, it was going to be his dream plane. He had already filled several notebooks with intricate details.

  Seeing that led to a brief discussion about Charles Lindbergh, who was helping Henry Ford organize bomber plane production. Lindbergh had wanted to enlist in the military, but FDR had refused. And what he was doing with Ford was valuable and important to the war effort. But nonetheless the public and the press remained critical of him, due to the political positions he'd taken before the war. Like the rest of the country, Clarke had been disappointed by his statements on behalf of America First. They had made him appear to be sympathetic to the Germans. And like many others, Clarke had lost some of his earlier respect for him. He had always thought of Lindbergh as a patriot, and it seemed so out of character and naive of him to have been impressed by the Germans before the war. But he had redeemed himself in Clarke's eyes recently by putting his shoulder to the war effort in whatever ways he could.

  The conversation drifted slowly back from Lindbergh to Kate, and Clarke didn't ask him directly, but he made it obvious to Joe that he was curious, if not concerned, about his intentions toward his daughter. Joe didn't hesitate for an instant telling him he loved her. He was honest and up front, and although he looked uncomfortable as he spoke of it, he didn't dally around or beat around the bush. He looked down at his hands for a long moment and then back up at her father. And Clarke liked what he saw there, he always had. Joe had never let him down so far. He was just a little slow moving, slower than Kate's mother would have liked, but Kate didn't seem to mind, and Clarke had to respect that. Whatever their feelings for each other, they seemed to be moving toward what they wanted, and had a keen sense of each other. They were inseparable while he was at home, and obviously deeply in love.

  “I'm not going to marry her now,” Joe said bluntly, squirming slightly in the narrow kitchen chair, like a giant bird sitting on a perch with his wings folded. “It wouldn't be right. If something happens to me over there, she'll be a widow.” Clarke didn't want to say that married or not, she would be devastated either way, they both knew that. She was a very young girl. And at nineteen, he was the first man she had ever been in love with, and hopefully the last, if her mother got what she wanted from him. She had told Clarke the night before that she thought they should get engaged. It would at least clarify his intentions and show some respect for Kate. “We don't need to be married. We love each other. There's no one else over there. I'm not seeing anyone, and I won't,” Joe explained to her father. He hadn't spelled that out to Kate, but she instinctively knew it. She trusted him completely, and had laid her heart bare to him. She had no defenses or protective wall around her, she had held back nothing from him, which was precisely what was worrying her mother. She wasn't sure if Joe had done the same, and she suspected he hadn't. He was old enough and cautious enough to keep something for himself. Just how much was, in reality, the question. Kate was much younger, and more naive, and far more vulnerable and trusting, although she could have also hurt him very badly, but she wouldn't do that. Of that there was no doubt.

  “Do you see yourself settling down eventually?” Clarke asked quietly. These were the first deep insights he'd had into what Joe wanted out of life. They'd never had a chance to talk about it before the war.

  “I suppose so, whatever that means. As long as I can keep flying around and building airplanes. I know I have to do that. As long as everything else fits into that, I guess I could settle in. I've never thought much about it.” It was hardly a proposal, or a firm declaration of intention. It was more of a maybe. He had taken a long time to grow up, and obviously had no deep emotional need to be settled with anyone or anything. As he had told Kate, he had never even really cared if he had children. Just airplanes. “It's pretty hard thinking about the future, when you put your life on the line every day, several times a day. When you're doing that, nothing else really matters.” He was flying as many as three missions a day, and every time he took off, he knew he might never come back. It was hard to think beyond that. In fact, he didn't want to. All he could do was concentrate on what he was doing, and the importance of shooting down the enemy. The rest was unimportant to him. Even Kate, at those particular moments. She was a luxury he could allow himself after the important things were accomplished. It was how he thought about his life actually. He had things he had to do, and after he did them, he could allow himself to be with her. But she had to wait until he had taken care of business. And right now, the war was business for him.

  “I love Kate, Mr. Jamison,” Joe said to Clarke, as he handed him a glass of bourbon, and Joe took it and sipped it. “Do you think she'd be happy with a guy like me? Would anyone? Flying comes first with me. It always will. She has to know that.” In his own way, he was a genius, he had brilliant ideas about aeronautical engineering, and he knew every tiny piece of his engines intimately. He could fly in any condition imaginable, and had. He knew all there was to know about aerodynamics. He understood a lot less about women, and he knew that, and Clarke was just beginning to understand. Kate's mother had sensed all that about him from the first.

  “I think she'd be happy as long as you provided a stable life for her, and cared about her. I think she'll want the same things all women do eventually, a man she can count on, a good home, children. It's pretty basic.” The luxuries they could provide for her, and would through her inheritance, but the emotional sustenance and stability, the security, would have to come from him, if he could provide it for her.

  “I don't think that's so complicated,” Joe said bravely as he took a long swig of the bourbon.

  “Sometimes it's more complicated than you think. Women get upset by the damnedest things. You can't just throw them in the trunk of a car like a suitcase. If you get their feathers ruffled, or don't provide for them, emotionally or otherwise, things don't go very smoothly.” It was wise advice, and Clarke wasn't sure Joe was ready to hear it yet.

  “I guess you're right. I've never thought about it. I never really had to.” He squirmed in his seat again and lowered his eyes. He was looking into his drink and not at Clarke as he went on a minute later. “I don't think I can really think about all this right now. For one thing, it's too soon. Kate and I hardly know each other, and for another, all I can think about right now is killing Germans. Afterward, when the war is over, we can figure out what color linoleum we want, and if we need drapes. Right now, we don't even have the house yet. I don't think either of us is ready to make big decisions.” It was a reasonable thing to say in the circumstances, and true probably, but Clarke was disappointed anyway. He had been hoping that Joe was going to ask him for Kate's hand in marriage. And he hadn't said he wouldn't, but he had admitted that he wasn't ready. Maybe it was better that he was honest about it. Clarke thought that, if Joe had been ready to come forward, Kate would have been thrilled about it. At nineteen, she was more ready to settle down, with Joe at least, than he was at thirty-one.

  His life up until that point had been very different. He had been floating around the world, drifting between airstrips, concentrating on flying and the future of aviation. He had lofty dreams, as long
as they were about airplanes, but few if any when it came to everyday life. What he needed to do, after the war, in Clarke's opinion, was concentrate more on what was happening on the ground, instead of looking up at the sky all the time. In some ways, Joe Allbright was a dreamer. The question was, did his dreams include Kate?

  “What did he say?” Elizabeth quizzed him that night, after they had said goodnight to Joe and Kate, and had closed the door to their bedroom. She had asked him to speak to Joe if he had the opportunity. And to please her, he had come home early from the office to get some time to talk to Joe, before Kate came home from school.

  “In few words? He said that he's not ready. ‘They're not ready’ was what he said more precisely.” Clarke tried not to look too disappointed so he wouldn't upset his wife.

  “I think Kate would be ready if he were,” Liz said sadly.

  “So do I. But you can't force it. He's fighting a war, and risking his life every day. It's a little difficult to convince him that he needs to get engaged.” Since Kate loved him so much, they had both agreed that they needed to do what they could to help her. They would have liked to tie things down before he left again. It was a rare gift that he had come home for two weeks, but Clarke could see now that this time anyway, there was not going to be an engagement. Maybe later. “I don't think he's a settled-down kind of guy anyway, but I think he could be, for Kate's sake. I have no doubt whatsoever that he loves her, and he said so. I believe him. He doesn't fool around, he's crazy about her. But he's also crazy about his planes.” It was exactly what Elizabeth had been afraid of from the first.

  “And what happens if she sits this whole war out waiting for him, and he figures out afterward that he doesn't want to settle down? She wastes years, and he breaks her heart.” It was precisely the scenario she didn't want for her daughter, and there was no way to guarantee that wouldn't happen. Even if he married her, he could die, and she'd be a widow, and they both knew it. But maybe in that case, she'd have a baby. At least it would be something. But none of it was something they'd have wished for her. What they hoped for was a husband for Kate, who loved her, wanted to be with her, and had a solid, settled life. Clarke was beginning to think that Joe might always be a little bit eccentric. He was brilliant enough to excuse being a little odd. Clarke wasn't sure it was a bad thing, but it made things a little harder to pin down. His conclusion was that they were all going to have to be patient, which was what he said to Liz, as he repeated the conversation to her. “Do you think he was telling you that he never wants to get married?” Liz was panicked over that, but Clarke was calm.

  “No, I don't. And I think he will marry her eventually. I've known other guys like him. They just take a little longer to get into the barn,” he smiled at his wife, “not all horses are as docile as others. And this one is a bit of a wild horse. Just be patient. At least Kate doesn't seem upset about it.”

  “That's what worries me. She'd go to the moon with him. She's absolutely head over heels in love with him, and I think she'd agree to anything he wanted. I don't want her living in a tent by the side of the runway in some airport.”

  “I don't think it'll ever come to that. We can buy them a house if we have to.”

  “It's not the house I'm worried about. It's who's living in it, and who isn't.”

  “He'll get there,” Clarke reassured her, and he believed what he was saying.

  “I hope I'm still alive to see it,” she said ruefully, as he kissed her.

  “You're not over the hill yet, my love, by any means.” But she was feeling tired these days, and depressed over the fact that she was approaching sixty, and she so desperately wanted to see Kate settled and happy. But this was the wrong time. They were at war.

  Kate wasn't unhappy at the moment, except for the fact that Joe was away, fighting the war in England. But her mother didn't feel that her future was by any means secure. Joe was like a wild proud bird, and a totally free spirit. And as far as Liz was concerned, there was no predicting what he was going to do when he came back. She was not as sure as Clarke that he could be counted on to marry their daughter. But at least they had tried, and Joe mentioned the conversation to Kate that night too, and she was upset.

  “That's disgusting,” she said, looking hurt. She felt as though her parents were trying to force him to marry her and she didn't want that. She only wanted him if he wanted her, and if he wanted to get married. “Why did my father do that? It's like trying to force you to marry me.”

  “They're just worried about you,” he said calmly. He understood, although it had made him uncomfortable too. He had never had to explain himself like that before, what he wanted, where he was going and what he was about. “They don't mean any harm by it, Kate. They want what's best for you, and maybe for me too. Actually, I'm kind of flattered. They didn't tell me to get out of their house, or that I'm not good enough for their daughter, and they could have. They want to know if I'm planning to stick around, and if I really love you. And just so you know, I told your father that I do. We'll just have to figure out the rest when I get back from England. God only knows where I'll be then.” But she didn't like the sound of that either. He had always been blown by the wind to the most appealing airstrip. But she didn't want to question him about it. Her father had done enough for one afternoon, and she was really annoyed at him, in spite of Joe's good nature. She was glad that he hadn't been upset by it, and saw no point to the conversation. And she knew that whatever Joe had said that didn't sit right with them, would come back to haunt her, but she couldn't worry about that now.

  The time they spent together in September of 1942 was magical. She went to school every day, and afterward he came to meet her. They spent hours talking and walking, sitting under trees and talking about life and all the things that mattered to them. In Joe's case, most of the time it was airplanes. But there were other things too, people, and places, and things he wanted to do. Facing death every day made life even more precious to him. They spent lazy afternoons, holding hands and kissing, and they had already agreed that they wouldn't sleep with each other. As the days went by, it became an ever greater challenge, but they behaved admirably. Just as he didn't want to leave her widowed, if he died, he also didn't want to leave her pregnant when he went back to the war. And if they married one day, he wanted it to be because they chose to, not because they had to. And she agreed with him, although some part of her almost wished that if something happened to him, she would have his baby. But all they could do now was trust the future. There were no promises, no guarantees, no sure things. There were only their hopes and dreams and the time they had spent together. The rest was entirely unknown.

  When he left her finally, they were more in love than they had ever been, and knew everything about each other. It was as though they were each the perfect complement to the other, and fit together seamlessly. They were different, but so perfectly matched Kate was convinced they had been born for each other, and Joe didn't disagree. He was still awkward at times, still shy, still quiet now and then, lost in his own thoughts, but she was able to understand that, and she found all his little quirks and mannerisms endearing. And when he left this time, there were tears in his eyes when he kissed her and told her he loved her. He promised to write to her as soon as he got back to England. It was the only promise he made her before he left. And for Kate, it was enough.

  6

  THE WAR HEATED UP in October that year, and some of the reports were more encouraging than they had been. The Australians and their allies were pushing the Japanese out of New Guinea, and they appeared to be weakening in Guadalcanal. The British were finally wearing down German forces in North Africa as well. And Stalingrad was hanging on against the Germans, though admittedly by a thread.

  Joe was flying constant missions, and the one he flew over Gibraltar made history. He and three other Spitfire pilots shot down twelve German Stuka dive-bombers on a reconnaissance mission in advance of the huge Allied invasion campaign known as Operation
Torch. The mission had been a huge success.

  Joe was decorated, and received the Distinguished Flying Cross from Great Britain, and flew back to Washington to receive the United States Distinguished Flying Cross medal from the President, and this time Kate had ample warning of his return. She took the train from Boston to Washington to meet him, three days before Christmas. They had forty-eight hours before he had to go back to England. But once again, it was a precious gift to them, and one that neither of them had expected. The War Department put him up at a hotel, and Kate took a small room on the same floor. She went to the ceremony at the White House with him and the President shook her hand, and she and Joe posed for a photograph with him. It all felt like something in a movie to Kate.

  Joe took her out to dinner afterward, and she smiled at him after they ordered. He was still wearing his medal. And he was more handsome than he had ever been.

  “I still can't believe you're here,” she said, beaming at him. He was truly a hero. The ceremony had been a strange mixture of happiness and sadness for Kate, as she realized how easily he could have been killed. Everything about life these days seemed bittersweet. Every day that he lived was a gift, and nearly every day she heard about boys who had died in Europe or the Pacific. The girls she had gone to school with had already lost so many loved ones. So far, she'd been very lucky. She held her breath every day, praying for Joe.

  “I can't believe I'm here,” Joe said as he took a sip of wine. “And before I know it, I'll be freezing my ass off in England again.” But here, because the war wasn't as close, things seemed more festive. There were Christmas trees everywhere, carolers, and children laughing as they waited for Santa Claus. There were still happy faces, in contrast to the pained, hungry, frightened ones in England. Even the children there looked exhausted, everyone was so tired of the bombs and the air raids. Houses disappeared in the blink of an eye, friends were lost, children were killed. In England, it seemed almost impossible to be happy these days. And yet, the people Joe knew there were very brave.