The Barnstormer

by Jane Lewis

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  The Barnstormer

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing

  Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc. and other major retailers

  Ruth Ann drifted to sleep and woke when Frankie silenced the engine of the airplane. “We got here quick. I’m glad I missed the landing. It scares me to land and take-off.”

  “I didn’t know. I thought you liked to fly.” He unfastened his seat belt.

  “I do, after we’re in the air and before we land.” She waited for him to come around and help her out of the plane.

  His Ford coupe sat alone in the parking lot. He put her suitcases in the car and headed into the hangar. “I have a couple of things to do before I take you home, I won’t be long.”

  She followed him. She roamed the building to make sure Al wasn’t hiding. “I’ll wait in here with you.” Her heart raced with excitement while her stomach quivered from nerves. She wanted to kiss him, wanted him to kiss her.

  Frankie stepped to his desk and studied a piece of paper.

  She followed him, took the paper out of his hand, and placed it on the desk. She captured his hands and placed them around her waist.

  He stepped back. “What’re ya doin’?”

  She tiptoed and put her hands behind his neck and pulled his head toward her. She kissed him. The touch of his lips sent a shock wave through her body. He took control and devoured her mouth in a demanding kiss. She reveled in his scent. He smelled like musk, spice, motor oil, and the sky.

  The Barnstormer

  by

  Jane Lewis

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  The Barnstormer

  COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Pamela Hudson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Vintage Rose Edition, 2018

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2221-6

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2222-3

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my sister, Margaret, for encouraging me to always follow my dreams. Her love and stories of a small Georgia town bring laughter and tears and inspire me every day.

  Chapter One

  Saplingville, Georgia, 1936

  Frankie Howard pulled into the parking lot of Andrews Airfield and parked beside his boss’s car. He sat in his Model A, a death grip on the wheel. Bitch, gold digger, and slut played through his mind like a reel at the picture show.

  He stared at the hangar and imagined punching his fist through the window and kicking a hole in the wall.

  Victor, his boss and best friend, came out the door and walked toward his car.

  He got out, opened the trunk, and handed the boss a box of motor oil.

  “What took so long?” Victor placed the box beside the door and took one look at his friend. “Holy shit, what happened to you? You look like the New York Giants after they lost the World Series.”

  Frankie bent over at the waist and placed his hands on his knees for support. Air forced into his lungs in small short breaths. He inhaled one long breath and straightened. He staggered back and leaned against his car.

  Victor walked toward his friend and stared. “For God’s sake, tell me what happened.”

  He stepped to the side making space between them. “That bitch, Audrey, used me. She was married when we got married. I’m an idiotic, stupid fool. She played me like a fiddle at a Saturday night dance. Son of a bitch.”

  Victor shook his head in disbelief. “Sorry man. How’d you find out?”

  He relaxed his jaw. “The jerk was at my house, my house. In my bedroom. With my wife. I wanted to kill the bastard. I roughed him over and kicked him out. He went straight to the sheriff’s office. Deputy Riley came to my door, hauled me and Audrey in.”

  Victor spoke, “What happened then?”

  His eyes locked with his best friend, a sense of worthlessness swept through him. “She chose him. She chose him over me. Why’d she marry me in the first place?”

  Victor placed his hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “I tried to tell you, but you couldn’t see past her looks. She was all about the airplanes, and the trips, and the money she thought you had.”

  He felt boxed in, he needed the sky. “Help me ready the Jenny.”

  Victor grabbed his arm. “I can’t do that. You’re in no shape to fly an airplane.”

  He clenched his fists. If Victor wasn’t his best friend, he’d punch him out. “I’m. Fine.”

  Victor stepped in front of him. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’ve never seen you this upset. Go in the hangar and calm down, then take the Jenny up.”

  He walked toward the grassy field and turned. “I’m all right, or I will be once I’m in the air. You gonna help me or not?”

  Victor shook his head. “You’re as stubborn as Uncle Walter’s mule.”

  They walked toward the pasture. He stared straight ahead. “Do me a favor, tell Al all this shit.”

  Victor walked behind him. “I’ll tell him as soon as I get back to the hangar. I don’t think he’ll be surprised.”

  He walked faster. “I’m sure everyone in town knows by now.” He reeled in his thoughts. He needed to be on his A game to fly. “Grab the gas can. I’ll check the engine. You check the exterior.”

  Victor surveyed the biplane, tugged on the cables, checked the wheels, and ran his hand over the wings. “Everything’s solid and tight.”

  He handed Victor the gas can. “Put this under the shed and help me push her to the runway.”

  They pushed the Curtiss JN-Four so it headed into the wind. He tugged the hat over h
is thick hair and pulled the goggles over his eyes. “I’ll get in, you prop her off.”

  Victor pulled the propeller and jumped away from the plane. Frankie waved, and the biplane roared down the runway. He climbed to five thousand feet and leveled off. The wind on his face and the clicking of the cylinders in the engine attempted to soothe his frayed nerves.

  He focused on the familiar scenery, smoke curled out of Walter’s chimney and cows grazed in the pasture. From the air, everything appeared the same, but inside the airplane self-doubt invaded his mind and heart. He knew Audrey was too good to be true when he met her. She looked and acted like a movie star from Hollywood, why would she be attracted to him in the first place?

  He flew several circles around Walter Andrews’ farm. Andrews Field consisted of forty acres Victor’s Uncle Walter gave him to start an airport when he married Dottie Lester.

  The Jenny responded to his commands. He practiced some S-turns, breathing into the turn as his instructor taught him years ago. The muscles of his hands relaxed on the stick. He flew away from the farm so his daredevil tricks wouldn’t scare the animals or Walter’s wife Delores.

  He aimed the plane toward the lake, a few miles from the farm. He flew around the perimeter of the water. A fisherman stood at the edge holding his pole and waiting for a catfish to bite. He continued his S-turns starting at one end of the lake and stopping at the other end. He continued the turns until all he thought about was flying. He guided the Jenny through loops. He climbed higher and picked up speed enabling him to break into barrel rolls. Satisfied with how the biplane responded, he started his favorite maneuver for smoothness and coordination, the Cuban-Eight. Frankie started the loop, came down the back side and did a half-roll, and glided into another loop, again half-rolling on the back side before pulling out.

  He took the airplane higher and headed to earth in a dive. The lake gleamed ready to absorb his misery. The rush of the wind pummeled him. He could crash into the lake and refuse to face the mess he’d made of his life, or he could pull out of the dive. He struggled with the decision.

  At the last minute, he yanked the stick. The gold digger wasn’t worth losing his life. The plane climbed upward heading to five thousand feet. He inhaled, filled his lungs, blew the air through his lips, and decided he didn’t want to die. He flew through town and into the next county before turning around. The last twenty minutes of his flight he thought of nothing but the sky.

  The sound of the engine, the wind rocking the wings, the open sky, the sun on his face, the whining wires…ahh. His siren song. He started his descent. Al waved from the pasture. Al, man he hated to disappoint the old man. He landed the plane making a perfect three-point landing. The old man ran toward the biplane. He helped get her into the shed. “How was your flight?”

  “Good.” He appreciated his friend and his concern.

  “Did it clear your head?” Al placed the chocks under each wheel.

  Frankie threw the tarp over the seat openings. “Yeah, but didn’t change anything. I’m still a fool.”

  “Don’t let this worm spoil the apple. Cut it out and go on with yourself.” Al helped him secure the tarp.

  He gave a yank on the rope to make sure it was tight. “Thanks for the advice. I’m better off without the likes of her.”

  “Yes, you are, son.” The old man walked beside him as they made their way to the hangar where Frankie began work on a Taylor Cub.

  Al cleaned the bathroom and hung the mop on a nail to dry. “Boss is gone, he said to tell you to lock up when you leave. I’m gonna sweep, then I’m leavin’. See ya tomorrow.”

  He worked on the small plane until he had the engine repaired and tuned up. He would perform a test flight in the morning. He cranked his car and drove toward home.

  The coupe, a piece of junk he found rusting away in a farmer’s pasture, shined like new money after his extensive repairs, new paint job, and lots of elbow grease. He lived like a rich man with a shiny car and house in town.

  He liked his previous residence in the shanty town, and the people were his friends, but he preferred the luxuries of indoor plumbing and electricity. Audrey would’ve never lived in the squalor. She refused to go with him to visit his friends. He made the biggest mistake of his life and let her beauty cloud his judgment, but he missed her. In the two short months they were married, he raced home from work every day, eager to spend all his free time with his bride.

  ****

  Frankie tossed until sleep found him. He woke early and extended his arm searching for Audrey. He opened his eyes, and the light from the moon cast a shadow in the bed. He swung his legs to the side and sat with his head in his hands, his mind recalled the events of yesterday. He stepped into his trousers and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. He craved his work and the familiarity of the hangar. His pulse beat faster when he remembered the Taylor Cub, he’d have the opportunity to test fly before the customer picked it up.

  He parked beside Al’s old blue Chevrolet truck. He walked into the hangar, tugged his leather jacket off, and hung it on a nail. “Morning, Al, where are you?”

  Al shuffled from the bathroom with a mop and bucket in his hand. “Good morning, coffee’s on the hot plate. Help yourself.”

  Frankie poured a cup of hot brew and placed two chairs next to each other. “Have a seat.”

  The janitor and all around handyman poured coffee into a thick ceramic cup. He sat in the chair beside Frankie. “How you doin’ this mornin’, son?”

  He never tired of Al calling him son. He hadn’t seen his daddy since the day his mama died, eleven years ago. His old man left town before the last shovel of dirt got heaped on the mound. “I didn’t sleep much last night. Still in shock. I can’t believe anyone would do what she did.”

  Al drank a sip of coffee, stretched his legs, and crossed his ankles. “I never figured Miss Audrey was the one for you. Oh, she was pretty enough, but her heart wasn’t in it. The way I see it, you got out easy. The mistake would have been if you were hitched, had a couple of kids, and then discovered the real Audrey. You’d be going through a divorce, broken home, and children you’d never see again. I think you need to count your blessings this little bird flew away.”

  Frankie drained his cup, set it on the table, and stood. “I know everything you said is true, it’s not easy to forget or forgive. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust another woman.”

  “You’ll commit to the right one, and you’ll know when she’s right.”

  He stared at Al. He didn’t think he would ever have faith in anyone again, man or woman. “I’m gonna get the Cub ready for a test flight.”

  The Taylor E-2 Cub had an open cockpit. He grabbed his jacket, hat, and goggles. The plane weighed less and was easier to handle than his biplane. The Cub had a single wing mounted high on the fuselage where the Jenny had double wings and a large engine in front.

  He searched the hangar for his friend. “Can you prop me off?”

  “Sure can.”

  They guided the plane to the runway. He climbed into the seat, put on his hat and goggles, and readied the engine, “Contact.”

  “Contact,” Al yelled, and spun the propeller.

  The engine fired. He taxied to the runway. He listened for any misfiring or roughness from the engine. Everything sounded right. The plane lifted off the ground. He kept the Cub in the air for fifteen minutes before he returned to Andrews Field.

  The boss man’s car turned into the parking lot as he landed the plane. He taxied close to the hanger. Victor and Al pushed the plane the rest of the way. Al chocked the wheels. He climbed from the plane and took a deep breath until his lungs were filled with air. He exhaled and gazed toward the sky hoping to keep the peaceful feeling he experienced when he soared through the air.

  Victor stood inside the door. “How’d she run? Any problems?”

  He removed his hat and goggles and placed them on his desk. “No, she purrs like a kitten. You might want to take her up. She’s li
ght as a feather and flies real smooth.”

  “You doin’ better today?”

  “Yeah, I’d like to say I’ve been through worse, but I can’t.” He opened the drawer to his desk and pulled out his to-do list.

  “You better be glad you got rid of her this easy.”

  “Exactly what Al said. He mentioned something about a bird.”

  Victor laughed and shook his head. “What would we do without his words of wisdom? By the way, Dottie and I are having a little party for Ruth Ann Saturday. This is her first weekend home since she started school. I want you to come. I think it’d do you good.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He grabbed a pencil and scratched through ‘test fly Taylor Cub.’

  “No one’s going to say anything about Audrey, don’t worry,” his boss said, as he walked through the hanger to his office.

  He wanted to go. Victor’s family was all he had. They wouldn’t say anything or judge him, anyone except Ruthie. Given the chance, she’d rub salt in his wound, twist it in deep, and he’d feel the grit the rest of his life. She wouldn’t say anything with her family around, so he would avoid one on one contact with her…for a long time.

  Chapter Two

  A lone spotlight illuminated the middle of the stage. Ruth Ann Douglas’ desire to act excited and scared her at the same time. She stood close enough to the light as to cast a soft glow on her monologue book. She searched for difficult lines, practicing them in a soft voice. Her hands trembled. The book hit the floor with a thud. She tiptoed to center stage, closed her eyes, and mentally crossed the threshold. She stared into the darkness and became Angellica, a courtesan of the 1600s. She and the universe were one. Her nerves were gone, calm coursed through her veins. She relished this moment in time and didn’t want it to end, praying she would do the same at the audition.

  Ronald Waters sat in his chair staring.

  She tiptoed to the edge of the stage. “Well?”

  His slow loud clapping filled the empty auditorium. “Do as well at your audition, and you’ll get any part you want.”

  She put her hand over her eyes so she could see into the theater. “Thank you. It felt good. I remembered all my lines.”