by AlLee, Jennifer L. ; Breidenbach, Angela; Franklin, Darlene
Dad shrugged. “My wife. All the time.”
Grins still in place, the two men faced each other.
“Friends?” Mr. Caplan stuck out his right hand.
Dad shook it. “Friends.”
Unable to hold back any longer, Robert leaned forward and tapped Mr. Caplan on the shoulder. “Does this mean I can speak to Jolene?”
The small flick of Mr. Caplan’s head toward Dad reminded Robert of the second half of the man’s objection.
“Right.” Robert swiveled on his crutches to face his father. “Dad, do you have a moment?”
Eyes narrowing, Dad bounced his gaze around the three faces staring at him. He focused in on Mr. Trotter. “We done here?”
Trotter put his hat back on. “I’m done.”
“Let me walk you back.” Mr. Caplan swept his left arm toward the exit, indicating Mr. Trotter should precede him.
As the two men walked away, Robert heaved a deep breath. “I’m not sure if you know that Jolene Caplan and I were seeing each other before I left for the war.”
Dad’s jaw loosened. “You were?”
“We felt we needed to hide our … well, our love because of the rivalry between the Caplan and Montgomery teams.” Robert grunted and shook his head. “We thought we’d done pretty well, but then Theo … that day …”
“I wondered what had gotten into that boy.” He scratched his neck. “Did Ollie know?”
Ollie? Oh, Mr. Caplan. Robert clamped his teeth together and tightened the corners of his lips to keep from grinning. “Yes, sir.”
“The whole time?” Dad lifted his derby hat and finger-combed his markedly gray hair.
Sobered by the reminder that he’d caused his parents undue distress, Robert ducked his head and cleared his throat. “I don’t think Mr. Caplan knew until Theo told him.”
“And your mother?” Dad shook his head. “Never mind. I’m sure she knew you were in love with the girl before you did.”
“Probably.” His heartbeat sped up, like an engine revving before the main event. “I … I want to marry her. If that’s okay with you.”
Dad squinted then glanced to where Mr. Caplan was still chatting with Mr. Trotter. “Let me guess, you won’t get permission from Ollie to marry the gal if I’m not going to let her be on the team, so to speak.”
Robert nodded.
“Nice girl. Got nothing against her.” He replaced his hat, tugging the brim until it shaded his eyes. “Don’t know her very well, but you’re man enough to make your own decision, I guess.”
“So …?”
A smile split his father’s face. “Got a hankering to be a grandpa.”
Robert’s racing heart skidded to a stop. “Is that a yes?”
Dad slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s a yes.”
Tossing his head back to give a whoop, Robert miscalculated and lost his balance. The crutches slipped forward while he fell back and landed on his rear in the mud. Pain shot through his leg when his broken ankle bounced on the ground, but he didn’t care. His only thought was finding Jolene to tell her the good news.
Mr. Caplan raced over. He and Dad pulled Robert upright. “You okay, son?”
Not sure which father asked, Robert reached for the crutch his father held out. “Better than—”
Mrs. Caplan appeared at the opposite end of the grandstand field. Alarm creased her forehead, and she pushed Theo’s wheelchair at a reckless pace.
Mr. Caplan ran toward her. “What?”
She waved a piece of paper then grabbed the wheelchair before it toppled. “Jolene’s gone!”
Chapter 7
Jolene stopped to purchase another scone as she headed to meet Mr. Walpole. The bitter taste in her mouth needed something sweet to counteract it.
Pierre appeared just as she took her first bite. His red shirt was stained with dirt and sweat, but his face was clean and dark hair damp.
Oops. She was supposed to answer whether or not she planned to marry him and move to France.
“I see you have the bags packed, but you have not given me your reply.” He stopped a foot away and crossed his arms over his chest.
Swallowing hard, Jolene coughed to dislodge a crumb that got stuck on the way down. “I’m sorry, Pierre. There was so much going on today, I totally forgot about …” The affront on his face stopped her from saying the rest. “I’m sorry.”
Her repeated apology deepened his scowl. “A man does not wish to hear that the woman he has offered to share his life with has forgotten such a thing.”
Jolene held out a hand. “I know. I shouldn’t have said that.”
After a moment of staring into her face, Pierre turned his palms up and shrugged in a decidedly French manner. “It is the way of the heart, non? Your Robert returns and all thoughts of poor Pierre flee your pretty head.”
Yes, but she still shouldn’t have phrased it that way. Jolene set the scone on her brown suitcase. “I do love you, but as a brother. You deserve someone who will fall victim to your charm and yearn to spend a lifetime staring into your handsome face.”
A quivering grin fought through the stern lines of his mouth. “With logic like that, how can I stay angry with you for rejecting me so heartlessly?” He dropped a glance to her suitcase. “May I ask where you are going? Because, if you plan to elope, I will act the brother you claim me to be and toss you over my shoulder to carry you back to your parents.”
“No need for dramatics.” She told him about her new job, and his scowl reappeared. “I’ve already agreed to a yearlong contract, so banish all thoughts of tossing me over your shoulder.”
He stared at a point some distance behind her. “I do not think I will need to.”
Jolene swiveled so fast, her skirt flared. “Robert.”
His speedy crutches left a trail of alarmed fairgoers in his wake.
Bending to retrieve her suitcase, she knocked the scone into the dirt. Sparing an instant to regret the wasted money and loss of her favorite treat, Jolene straightened her spine and held the battered leather in front of her chest.
“Do you wish me to remain, ma soeur?”
Jolene shook her head but didn’t turn to see if Pierre left. Her entire focus was on Robert and the firm set of his squared jaw.
Lord, give me strength to stand strong.
Robert was out of breath by the time he reached her. “What do you … think … you’re doing?”
“Keeping my word.” Jolene curled her toes inside her shoes.
He went white. “To whom? Walpole or the Frenchman?”
Sick with dread, Jolene pulled the suitcase tighter. She hated fighting. If only she hadn’t stopped for the scone.
“Answer me, JoJo.” Robert’s tone lashed her shredded nerves.
“Which would you prefer?” The audacious question flew from her lips as though someone else put the words in her mouth.
The stunned look on Robert’s face echoed her surprise. “What do you mean?”
Heart pounding against the brown leather, she inhaled a tremulous breath. “Which would you find easier to accept, me marrying Pierre or becoming a stunt pilot for a time?”
He leaned forward to put his face nearer to hers. “Neither.”
Intimidated but unwilling to show it, Jolene put a finger on his shoulder to push him back. “No fair, Robbie. You don’t get to win by changing the rules of the game.”
Robert didn’t budge. For a long moment, they stared at each other while Jolene did the only thing she could think of to do …
She prayed with all her might for wisdom and resolve.
“A soft answer turneth away wrath.”
Had the Bible verse come from the Frenchman as he passed, or was it an echo inside Robert’s own head? He swallowed down the angry words forbidding Jolene from going anywhere. What was it Captain Moller always said? Be careful you aren’t so focused on winning the battle that you lose the war.
“Sorry, JoJo.” Robert straightened his spine and focused on a distant
point to break his intimidating stance and stare. He didn’t feel sorry. He wanted to tear someone’s arms off. But he’d just witnessed what harboring bitterness and resentment had done to two lifelong friends. To not learn from their mistakes was foolish. “Let me start again. May I ask where you’re going?”
Jolene placed a soft hand on his arm. “Thank you for asking so nicely.”
The urge to grab her hand and never let go sent heat up his arm and neck.
“Would you like to sit down so we can discuss this?”
No! He wanted to stand right where he was, blocking her path. Wanted to ask why she was leaving when he’d gotten permission to marry her. But she didn’t know that. He’d silently told her the opposite less than an hour ago. Upbraiding her for avoiding him, when he’d been doing the same thing with her, was stupid. He looked over the crowd. “I don’t see a bench available nearby, but I think we can have a little privacy in that”—he pointed with his chin—“grandstand entrance.”
“Okay.”
As they made their way through the crowd to the empty portico, Robert slowed his breathing. Another Bible verse came to mind. He couldn’t remember the exact words, but it was something about the importance of listening over speaking.
Jolene rested her suitcase on the cement then gripped her hands together. Tears leaked down her cheeks, but she didn’t speak.
What had she done?
“I …” She looked up at him with those blue eyes, and his heart splintered. “I’ve accepted the job with Dayton-Wright.”
Relief stabbed his ribs. She wasn’t marrying the Frenchman. But images of flaming planes, the screams of pilots, and the smell of burning flesh sent terror racing through his veins. Robert closed his eyes to block out the vision. His stomach rolled and bumped like he was back in the car the day Mitch died.
He couldn’t lose Jolene. Not like he’d lost his brother. Or like he’d lost too many friends on the battlefield. If she died, he’d never forgive himself.
Oh, God! Was that the lesson he was supposed to learn? That he couldn’t prevent bad things from happening? Couldn’t force God to protect his loved ones? Couldn’t keep blaming himself for not bullying the future and forging it by sheer force of will?
“It’s only for a year.”
Jolene’s voice beat against his eardrums. So much could happen in a year. So much could happen in an instant.
“Please say you don’t hate me.”
Robert’s eyes flew open. “Hate you?” He reached out with one hand, bending an inch to trap the crutch under his arm. “I love you so much my heart can’t hold it all.”
She stepped closer. Her hat brim was too large for contact, so Robert removed the hatpin and hat. Jolene tilted her head and stepped forward.
He wrapped his free arm around her waist and drew her close, fingers still clutching her hat. Bending his head, he memorized the fragrance of her hair and the way the fine strands tickled his nose. “Only for a year,” he repeated for his own benefit.
Her cheek rubbed up and down against his chest. “Maybe by then, our parents won’t hate each other and we can—”
“But they don’t hate each other anymore.” Robert bent his head closer to her lips. “Your father has given me permission to court you.”
Instead of melting into his kiss, Jolene pushed him. Hard. “What?”
Staying upright took all his concentration for a moment.
“But you … you … didn’t you?”
“Huh?”
Jolene lowered her brows. “You said—or at least I thought you were telling me—that you didn’t get his permission.” She flattened her lips and shook her head, imitating how he’d spoken to her across the length of the grandstand.
“Yeah, but that was before the match was over.” Briefly, he told her about the meeting with President Trotter and how it had healed the rift between their fathers. But instead of coming back to his arms, she peppered him with more questions: Who said what? What did he think about what was said? What did her father think? What had her father said when Robert talked to him earlier? How did Robert feel about that? And so on until he leaned down and kissed her just to shut her up.
“No fair, Robert,” she murmured against his lips when he pulled back. She wrapped her arms around his waist, though, and sighed. “We can last another year, can’t we?”
“Of course we can.” He’d wait forever if it meant being together.
She lifted her head. “Besides, this will be good for us.”
Her words brushed across his neck and set his skin on fire. Robert forced his brain to concentrate on what she’d said instead of how much he wanted to kiss her again. “Good, how?”
She started to pull away, but he tightened his hold on her waist. “Because we’ve been apart from each other too long.”
He cocked his head to look down at her face. “What kind of convoluted logic is that?”
He was too slow to react when Jolene pressed her hands against his chest and stepped back. “We need to get to know each other again—who we are now instead of who we were seventeen months ago.”
“Still not following your logic, JoJo.”
Her lips curved, sending his heart into triple time. “I’m not the same girl you left behind, and you’ve endured”—she shook her head, the light in her eyes dimming—“unimaginable things. Don’t you see? We’ve both changed.”
“My love for you hasn’t.”
She placed a gloved hand against his cheek. “Nor mine for you, but how we feel about each other must be tempered by common sense. I want a house and permanence, but you—”
“Want the same thing.”
Jolene frowned. “Do you? How would you know? You’ve not been home long enough to know what you want. Perhaps a staid life won’t suit you. In six months, you may long to return to the auto polo circuit.”
Was that what was keeping them apart? “Jolene, sweetheart, listen to me. I’ve had enough wandering around for a hundred lifetimes. I’m staying put from now on.”
“Then prove it to me.” Jolene patted his cheek. “Get a job and figure out who you are and what you want. Write me long letters full of all those emotional details you men hate so much. Tell me how much you miss me, what you’re doing, and how much better it would be if I were here with you.”
“Mushy-gushy stuff, you mean.” He pretended to find the idea exasperating. The impatient part of him did, but what she wanted was right and good. Her insistence on getting her father’s permission had turned out well, and chances were this would, too. “How long before you leave?”
She checked her necklace watch. “I’m already late.”
As she bent to pick up her suitcase, Robert grabbed her hand. “You have to promise me something before you go.”
The suitcase remained on the ground. “What?”
Heart thumping hard, Robert mulled over the best way to express his emotions. “I … I need you to be careful, JoJo. You check and double-check and then triple-check every piece of equipment. You don’t take any unnecessary risks. You don’t let them put you up in a plane you don’t know backward and forward. Promise me.”
Her smile was tinged with sadness. “I’ll be careful, Robbie. I promise. But you have to promise that should something happen to me, you won’t shut yourself off. You’re too good a man and will make someone a fine husband. Don’t rob the world of your children, Robert Montgomery. Promise me.”
The very thought twisted his stomach. “I can only promise to try, JoJo, because I won’t lie. I can’t see my life with anyone but you.”
Jolene searched Robert’s face. His amber eyes met hers, and she saw his heart. Far from trying to manipulate her, he was fighting to let her go. To put her needs ahead of his. To love her sacrificially. Her knees went soft. If he asked her one more time to stay, she’d throw her arms around his neck and never let go.
Why, oh why had she agreed to take the stunt-pilot job? And why did her own logic about the year apart being good for them
hollow out her chest?
“I need to go.” Jolene wriggled free and grabbed the suitcase. He took it from her and transferred it to his left hand. How he held it and his crutch, she didn’t know. Or care. She was fighting tears and legs that had suddenly grown roots.
Robert stuck out his right elbow, and she looped her white gloves through his tan uniform sleeve. “Ready?”
If she opened her mouth, she’d beg to stay. So she nodded and strained to pull her right leg free to take a step. Then the left leg. And right. Left. One foot in front of the other, each step a little easier than the last.
Mr. Walpole waited beside the gate. When he saw Robert, his smile drooped. “Miss Caplan. I hope you still plan to come with me.”
“I do.”
The muscles in Robert’s arm rippled.
Jolene let go and immediately felt cold. Alone. Unsure. She held out her hand and waited for Robert to give her the suitcase.
Instead, he held it toward Mr. Walpole, who grabbed the handle. “Sir, I’m going to be real honest here.” Robert didn’t let go of the suitcase. “I’m not happy about this—not one bit—but Miss Caplan has made her decision, and I’ll honor it. However, if I find out you or anyone at Dayton-Wright has risked her life by knowingly putting her in a faulty aeroplane, there won’t be a place far enough to run from my wrath. Understand?”
Mr. Walpole’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice. “I understand.”
Robert relinquished the suitcase. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need a minute to kiss my gal good-bye.”
Jolene didn’t see if Mr. Walpole left them alone or not. Her eyes locked on to Robert.
“I love you, JoJo Caplan, and I’ll be waiting right here one year from today … plus a week for travel, but no more, hear?” He removed her hat. When had it gone back on her head?
Throat aching from all the words crammed together begging to be said, Jolene found the most important ones. “I love you, too.”
Robert’s fingers dug into her hair and tilted her head toward him. “You ready?”
She started to nod, but the look in his eyes stopped her. She quit breathing for a moment then dragged air into her stinging lungs.