Lone Eagle

by Danielle Steel

  “I'd like that,” he said happily. He felt young and foolish suddenly, and then reminded himself instantly of how dangerous she was. For a moment, he thought of sending her the papers by messenger after all. But Kate continued to sound calm, because she was.

  “How about five?” she asked.

  “Five what?” He was panicking. He was afraid to see her again. What if she blamed him for everything that had gone wrong? What if she told him what a bastard he had been? What if she accused him of abandoning her? But there was none of that in Kate's voice as she laughed.

  “Five o'clock, silly You sound a little distracted. Are you all right?”

  “I'm fine. And five o'clock will be fine. I won't stay long.

  “I'll leave the door open,” she teased, “you don't even have to sit down.” She knew he was panicking, but not why. It never occurred to her that he might be nervous about seeing her. She loved him anyway. His vulnerability and fears only made him more lovable. She had learned so much. Her only regret was not being able to share it with him. She knew she would never get that chance, and doubted if, after that afternoon, she would ever see him again. Once his quitclaim deed was signed, he had no reason to see her again.

  “See you at five,” he said, sounding businesslike, and Kate smiled as she hung up the phone. She knew it was ridiculous to still love a man who was divorcing her. It made no sense, but nothing in their lives ever had. She was thirty-four years old, and she had finally grown up, it saddened her to realize that the woman she had brought to their marriage had been a frightened child. It had been unfair to both of them. She had wanted him to make up for all the pain she'd had as a little girl. There was no way he could do that for her, and no way she could soothe his wounds, while she was crying out herself. They had been two children, frightened in the night, and all Joe had known how to do was run away. She loved him in spite of it, and the soul searching she had done had served her well.

  Joe arrived promptly at five o'clock, with his documents in hand. He seemed awkward at first, but all it did was remind her of the first time they'd met. She kept a safe distance from him, and made no attempt to approach. They sat and talked quietly, about the children, his work, and a new plane he wanted to design. It had been a longtime dream for him. Her dreams had all been of him. She was surprised herself to find how easy it was to love him as he was, just sitting there, a little stiff at first, and gradually he warmed up. He had been there for nearly an hour when she offered him a drink, and he smiled. Just seeing him touched her heart. She would have loved to put her arms around him and tell him she would always love him, but she wouldn't have dared. She sat across the room from him, admiring him, and loving him, like a beautiful bird she could see but never touch. If she did, she knew he would fly away. He had given her that chance, more than once, and she had wounded him. She knew that chance would never come her way again. All she could do now was love him silently, and wish him well. It was enough, and all she had left to give. It was all Joe would accept from her ever again.

  It was nearly eight o'clock when Joe left. She signed the papers for him, and was surprised when he called her back the next day. He sounded awkward again, but this time he relaxed more rapidly, and then nearly strangled on the words when he invited her to lunch. She was amazed. Kate had no way of knowing it, but she had haunted him all night. She was everything he had always loved in her, and she hadn't frightened him. He wasn't sure if her newfound independence was a trick, or something he wanted to see in her. But he could sense that something had changed profoundly in her, and the aura he sensed around her was no longer hunger or guilt or pain or need, but warmth and peace with him and herself. He remembered now what he had loved in her, and was wondering if they could be friends.

  “Lunch?” She sounded more than a little stunned. But after they talked for a while, it sounded feasible to her as well. She was only slightly afraid of falling more deeply in love with him again, but she was still in love with him anyway. She had nothing to lose. All she had at risk was more pain. But she trusted him now, more than she had before, and Kate realized it was because she trusted herself. She could cope with whatever life would bring. That was new, too, and Joe sensed it in her.

  They had lunch at the Plaza two days after he called. And went for a walk in the park the following weekend. They talked about the mess they'd made and what might have been, what couldn't be. And she finally had a chance to apologize to him. She had wanted to for months, and was grateful for the opportunity to tell him how deeply she regretted the pain she had caused him. It pained her almost as much as it had him to know how she had frightened him, and wounded him. She had punished herself a thousand times in the past year for all she hadn't understood about him. And she had finally begun to forgive herself for her stupidity, and Joe for his.

  “I know. I was so stupid, Joe. I didn't understand. I kept grabbing at you, and the more I did, the more you wanted to run away. I don't know why I didn't see it then. It took me a long time to figure it out. I wish I'd been smarter.” Knowing how terrified he was of guilt and entanglement, it was a miracle that he had stayed as long as he had.

  “I made some mistakes too,” he said honestly. “And I was in love with you.” Kate felt a quiver in her heart as she noticed the past tense, but that was fair too. It came as no surprise. It was an aberration of some kind, she knew, that she was still in love with him, and suspected she might always be. She felt that after all that had happened, she no longer deserved another chance with him.

  They went back to the house afterward, and he saw Stevie and Reed for the first time since he'd left. And they squealed in delight the moment they saw him. It was a happy afternoon. And she was quiet for a long time after he left. She wanted to believe they could be friends. She had no right to anything more from him, and she told herself it would be enough for her. On his way home, he was trying to convince himself of the same thing. It had to be. He knew they could not try again. It was still too dangerous, and potentially, too painful for him, and always would be.

  Their friendship continued for the next two months. They went to dinner occasionally, and lunch on Saturdays. She made dinner on Sunday nights for him and the kids. And when he went away, she thought of him, but it was no longer the drama it had once been. In fact, it was no drama at all. She was no longer sure what they shared, but whatever it was, they hid it behind the mask of friendship for two months. It was comfortable for them.

  It was a rainy Saturday afternoon when the children were with Andy in Connecticut, when Joe came by unexpectedly to lend her a book they had talked about the week before. She thanked him, and offered him a cup of tea. It wasn't all he wanted from her, but he had no idea how to walk across the bridge from friendship to something new. They both knew that they could no longer go back to where they once had been. If they ventured forth at all, it had to be to a different place. And Joe was stumped as to how to proceed.

  It all happened surprisingly naturally. She had just poured the tea into a cup, when she looked up and saw Joe standing very close to her. He said nothing as she set the teapot down, and then he gently pulled her close to him.

  “How crazy would it be, Kate, if I told you I'm still in love with you?” She held her breath as she heard the words.

  “Very,” she said quietly, nestling close to him, trying not to remember the things they could no longer share, the parts of him she could no longer see. “I was terrible to you,” she said remorsefully.

  “I was a fool. I acted like a kid. I was scared, Kate.”

  “Me too,” she confessed in a whisper, as her arms went around him. “We were so stupid, I wish we hadn't been… I wish I could have known then all that I do now. I always loved you,” she said softly, feeling closer to him than she had in a year.

  “I always loved you.” He could feel the silk of her hair on his cheek as he held her close. “I just didn't know how to handle it. I felt so guilty all the time. It made me want to run away from you.” He paused for a m
oment and then went on. “Do you really think we've learned something, Kate?” But they both knew they had. He could see it in her and feel it in himself. They were no longer afraid.

  “You're wonderful just the way you are, and I can love you just like this,” she said with a smile, “whether you're here or not. Your being gone doesn't scare me anymore. I wish I'd done it differently,” Kate said mournfully.

  He didn't answer her, but kissed her instead. He felt safe with her, probably for the first time since they'd met. He'd always been in love with her, but he had never felt safe with her, not like this. They stood in the kitchen, kissing for a long time, and then without saying more to her, he put an arm around her and they walked to her bedroom, and then he looked at her, hesitating. It brought back so many memories, just kissing her.

  “I'm not sure what I'm doing here… we're probably both crazy… and I'm not sure I'll survive it if we mess this up again … but I have this crazy feeling… I don't think we will this time,” Joe said.

  “I never thought you'd trust me again.” Kate's eyes were enormous as she looked at him.

  “Neither did I,” he said, and kissed her again. But he did trust her now. She knew him better than she ever had during their entire marriage. He was safe with her finally and she with him. And they both knew it. They had never stopped loving each other. The only frightening thought, to both of them, was how close they had come to losing each other. They had gone right to the edge of the precipice, and then stopped. The hand of Providence had been kind to them.

  He spent the weekend with her, and when the kids came home, they were happy to find him there. The rest slid quietly into place again, as though he had never left. He had sold their apartment in New York months before, and he moved into her house for a while, and eventually they bought a house together, and moved in. He went on his trips, and was sometimes gone for weeks at a time. But Kate didn't mind. They talked on the phone, and she was happy, just as she had known she would be. And so was he. This time, it worked, and felt like a miracle to them. And when they had arguments, they were roaring ones, but like fireworks they lit up the sky and were forgotten quickly afterward. They were happy together, happier than they had ever been. They had quietly canceled the divorce as soon as he moved back in.

  It had been a good life, for both of them, and it was nearly seventeen years since the time they'd spent apart. They had been right to trust each other one last time. The years they had spent together since had proven them right.

  When the children left for their own lives, they had more time alone. Kate traveled with him, but she was always comfortable at home. There were no more demons in her life. They had slain their dragons long before, but not without considerable grief for both of them. The early years had taken a toll on them for a time, but in the end it made them both grateful for what they had learned. She had learned not to pull on him, not to entangle him, not to bring up the ghosts of his past, rattle the sabers of guilt at him. And proud bird that he was, he flew down from his skies and came as close as he could to Kate. In their later years, it was close enough for her, and all she wanted or needed from him. The wounds had been healed at last.

  They had been blessed with a great gift, a rare love, a bond so powerful that even they, in their foolishness, had been unable to sever it. The storm had raged, and the house they had built stood strong. Joe and Kate understood each other, as few people did. It was ultimately the pearl of great price that people search a lifetime for. They had found each other and lost each other, and found each other again, in a dozen ways, a dozen times. The miracle was that they had been given one last chance. One final, final chance, and there was no doubt in either of their minds, right to the end, that they had won, or how lucky they had been. They had come so close to losing everything, and their last chance had been the right one finally. For both of them. They had found not only love, but peace. This time, the miracle was theirs to keep.

  EPILOGUE

  JOE'S FUNERAL HAD all the pomp and circumstance that was due to him. Kate had put it together in every detail. It was her final gift to him. And as she left the house with Stephanie and Reed in the limousine, Kate stared out the window at the snow, thinking about him, and all he had been to her. She found herself thinking back to Cape Cod, and the war, the time they'd spent in New Jersey, building his company. She had still understood so little about him then. She could have painted a portrait of him now in rainbow hues. She knew him better than she had known anyone. It was inconceivable to her that he was gone.

  As she stepped out of the car with Reed and Stephanie, she felt panic begin to clutch her soul. What would she do now with the rest of her life? How would she survive without him? They had been given a reprieve seventeen years before, halfway through the time they'd shared. She had almost lost him then. And if she had, her life would have been so different for all these years. Two lives forever changed. Even Joe had acknowledged more than once that it would have been a terrible loss to them.

  The church was filled with dignitaries and important men. The governor was delivering the eulogy, and the President had said he would try to come, but in the end had sent the Vice President instead. The President was traveling in the Middle East, and even for Joe, it was too far to come. But he had sent a telegram to Kate.

  Kate and her children sat in the front pew, with a sea of people filling the church. And she knew that Andy and Julie were there somewhere. Her mother had died four years before. And Kate had caught a glimpse of Lindbergh's widow Anne, as she walked in, wearing a black suit and a hat, still in deep mourning herself. Joe had spoken at Charles's funeral only four months before. It seemed a strange irony that the two greatest pilots of all time had died within months of each other. It was a grievous loss to the world, but far more so to Kate.

  Joe's office had helped her to arrange some of the details, and the service was beautiful, the words spoken about him powerful. Tears rolled slowly down Kate's cheeks, as she clutched her children's hands. It made her think of her father's funeral when she had been a little girl, when her mother had been devastated and remote. It had been Joe who healed her heart finally. Joe who had opened her eyes and taught her so much about herself and the world. She had conquered Everest with him. And the life they had shared had been extraordinary in a thousand ways.

  The people who had come to pay their respects to him hung back silently, as Kate followed the casket slowly down the main aisle of the church, and watched them put it in the hearse. The smell of roses hung heavy in the air. She was silent and her head was bowed as she stepped back into the limousine for the drive to the cemetery, and a thousand people filed quietly out of the church. They had heard things about him from the eulogies that most of them had already known, his flying feats, his war record, his many accomplishments, his genius, the way he had changed the face of aviation. They said all the things Joe would have wanted said about him. But Kate was the only one in his life who had ever truly known Joe. He was the only man she had ever really loved. And for all the pain they'd caused each other in the early years, they had shared a life finally that had brought them both immeasurable joy. She had learned everything she had to know. And he had been happy with her. She had loved him well. Knowing that brought her some sense of comfort now. But she still could not imagine the rest of her life without Joe.

  Stephanie and Reed spoke quietly in the car on the way to the cemetery, and left their mother alone. Kate sat lost in thought, watching the wintry countryside slide by, thinking of all the memories they'd shared. The tapestry of their life had been rich beyond compare.

  Only Kate and her children had gone to the cemetery. Kate had wanted to be there with them alone, and with her memories of Joe. Because of the explosion, they were burying an empty casket. It was a final gesture of respect, as a minister said a brief blessing and then left. And in kindness to her, Stephanie and Reed walked back to the limousine and left her alone.

  “How am I going to do this, Joe?” she whispered as sh
e stood looking at the casket. Where would she go? How would she live without seeing him again? It was like being a child again when they had buried her father, and she could feel ancient wounds coming to life again. She stood there for a long time, thinking about Joe, and then it was as though she could sense him standing next to her. He was the man she had always dreamed of, the hero she had fallen in love with when she was barely more than a girl, the man she had waited to come home from the war, the man she had nearly lost and then found again, by miracle, seventeen years before. There had been a lot of miracles in their life together, and he had been the best of them. And she knew, as she stood there, that he had taken her heart with him. There would never be anyone in her life like Joe. He had taught her all of life's important lessons, healed all her wounds, as she had healed his. He had touched deep into her soul. He had taught her not only about love, but about freedom. He had taught her about letting go. When she loved him most, she had set him free, and eventually he had always come home.

  She knew as she stood there that this was his final freedom, his last flight away from her. She had to let him go again. And in doing so, he would never leave her, just as he really hadn't left her before. He had come home to her, flown away, and come back again. And even when he was gone, he loved her, just as he loved her now, and she loved him. It had become a love that was strong and sure, and needed no promises or words. It just was.

  She had learned the dance steps almost to perfection finally. She had learned just how to do it for him. How to stand back. How to let him be. How to love him. How to let him come and go, and appreciate him for all he was. She was so grateful for all that she had learned from him.

  “Fly, my darling,” she whispered…. “Fly…. I love you…,” she said as she took a single white rose and laid it on the casket they would bury in his name. And as she did, she felt her fears disappear. She knew he would never be far from her. He would fly, as he always had, in his own skies, whether or not she could see him next to her. But wherever she went, he would always be there with her. She would remember everything he had taught her, all of life's most valuable lessons. He had given her all she needed now to live on without him. And he had taught her well.