Christmas Diamond, a Novella: Inspired by The Jewel series and the Virtues and Valor series

by Hallee Bridgeman

  Faith pursed her lips. "Wouldn't it just have been easier to prevent you from bashing your head in the first place?"

  He looked at her with serious eyes. The look made the breath catch in the back of her throat. "Then I wouldn't have found you. Or, more to the point, you wouldn't have found me."

  "We would have met last night at dinner," she said on a breath.

  "I don't think it would have had the same impact as tripping over my breathless body, honestly." He laughed and looked at his watch. "How much time do you have today?"

  "I have to be in my North American at half two."

  "Two-thirty?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed and clearly in need of clarification.

  "Right. Two-thirty."

  He smiled. "Then we have more than two hours. What would you like to do?"

  "Why do you assume I'd like to do anything?"

  He winked at her. "Because you looked happy to see me."

  Faith laughed. "Perhaps I simply found your shirt amusing."

  TJ smiled. "Well, it is," he spread his hands as if presenting an obvious conclusion. "But I'm not sure someone dressed like a WAAC is at liberty to criticize."

  "Not a WAAC," Faith corrected automatically, suddenly conscious of her rather ill-suited and somewhat masculine looking attire. "That was American. British was WAAF."

  "You're right. Silly mistake," TJ redressed. "Just don't shoot me down, here, Faith."

  She slid out of the booth with a shake of her head. "Very well. I would like to see Ernest Hemingway's house before I return home. I understand it's covered with cats. More than that, I'd love to see your favorite part of Key West, Florida. Your father said you've been coming here every winter your entire life, so surely you have a berth of your very own."

  "As a matter of fact," he announced as he stood next to her and laid a gentle hand on the small of her back, "I do." They went out into the parking lot and he gestured toward a blue pickup truck. "I'm in the truck," he said. "I had to haul some mulch for Nelson today."

  He opened the door and she slid into the scorching hot interior. "Who is Nelson?" she asked as he climbed into the driver's seat and closed his door. The air conditioner started blowing ice cold air as soon as he started the engine.

  "Nelson's our landscaper slash gardener. He's pretty amazing." TJ whipped the truck out onto the road and followed the coastline, passing the hotel. He turned down a residential street, and suddenly the businesses disappeared and gave way to estates. Palm trees adorned with Christmas lights shaded massive stucco homes sheltered by red Spanish tile roofs. Wood framed homes the size of small hotels and painted in pastels stood out among the Spanish styles. The beauty of the architecture and the landscaping was not lost on Faith.

  TJ turned into a driveway and pulled up to a large wrought iron gate with a massive scrolling brass "V" down the center. As the truck approached, the gate gently swung open.

  As they rode down the palm tree lined drive, Faith admired the beautiful tropical flowers in full bloom. It felt like the house was part of the environment rather than the other way around. TJ didn't pull up in front of the house, though. Instead, he drove around back, passed the swimming pool, and headed toward a little house in the far corner of the property.

  He stopped at the door, cracked all the windows, and turned off the engine. Immediately, Faith felt the heat again. It was incredible. She gratefully escaped the hot confines of the truck cab when he opened her door.

  "This is my spot," he said, gesturing to the small framed structure, mimicking the main house in paint and roof style. "We think it was originally a gardening shed, but my dad let me have it when I was eight. Nelson wouldn't think this place was big enough to store his rake." He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

  Faith stepped up and into the one-room building. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, the interior took her breath away.

  A desk stood in the middle of the room with a comfortable looking desk chair behind it. An Oriental rug covered the floor. Bookshelves lined two of the walls from floor to ceiling. The other walls were covered in photographs, posters, and World War II paraphernalia. As Faith stepped further into the room and started inspecting, she realized it was mostly about the war in Europe and the French Occupation.

  A shelf in one corner held a collection of very detailed model airplanes. She ran her fingertip over a perfect replica of her grandmother's North American Na-16, the Texas Diamond. She found one display that had dozens of pictures of the Virtues, including a few pictures of her grandmother as a young woman. She recognized all of the women. In her lifetime she had even met a few of them.

  "How did you come by all this?" she asked. She felt in absolute awe of the collection.

  "I've spent the better part of a decade collecting it all," TJ said, walking up to her. "When I need to work, I come here. Most of the time, I'm alone on the estate and I can just write without distraction."

  "Well, if you sought to impress me, TJ Viscolli, I say well done, you. This is amazing," Faith admitted, turning in a circle. She felt like she could immerse herself for hours just looking at the posters.

  TJ put his hands on her shoulders and smiled down at her. "You fit in here," he observed, looking her up and down, from the toes of her boots to her flight suit, to hair that had to be insanely wild after being confined in a helmet all morning.

  Her heart felt a rush of warmth then started beating a little faster. A bit out of breath, she fought the school girl crush feeling and kept her feet firmly planted on the ground. "I see. Am I intended to be a recent addition to your private collection, Mr. Viscolli?"

  For a second, a look of confusion clouded his eyes. Then his brows drew together in a frown of actual displeasure. "You need to stop accusing me of being interested in you just because of your name or who your grandmother is."

  "Isn't that what you're doing?"

  "Of course not." His fingers squeezed her shoulders before he released her and stepped back. "The fact is, I find myself incredibly attracted to you. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since opening my eyes on the beach. Which was, if you recall, before I knew who you were."

  Faith conceded the point. "That's very true. My apologies."

  "So I guess the question is why are you so bent on thinking those are my motivations."

  With a shrug, she moved to a display of helmets. "I'm not certain. Perhaps I don't want to engage in some wildly romantic fling that must inevitably end at the very stroke of the New Year." She felt her cheeks flush with heat at the admission. To her surprise, when she turned around to face him again, he had come up behind her. He put his arms around her.

  "I can be wildly romantic," he growled.

  She honestly didn't feel like she could catch a breath. "I think that's what I'm afraid of."

  "No need to be afraid of me, Faith."

  "No?"

  He shook his head. "I'm serious."

  "It's very hard to take you seriously while you're wearing that shirt."

  He grinned and reached a hand up to cup her cheek. "It doesn't have to end at the stroke of twelve, Faith. You aren't Cinderella."

  She might not be Cinderella, but TJ Viscolli certainly seemed like a prince. Her lips tingled and she suddenly realized that she really, really wanted to kiss him. No sooner had she thought it than he lowered his head. One heartbeat before their lips touched, someone pounded on the door.

  Faith jumped back and put a hand to her heart.

  "Got my mulch, boy?" someone yelled through the door.

  TJ sighed and slipped his hands back into his pockets. "I do," he said loud enough to carry, going to the door and opening it. "You couldn't see it in the back of the truck?"

  "Well, it ain't going to unload itself. Get out here and help me."

  "I have a guest, Nelson," TJ explained, gesturing toward Faith. "I'll help you after I take her back to the airfield."

  Feeling a well of nervous energy, Faith smiled and stepped closer t
o TJ. "Not at all. I'll gladly lend a hand as well." She looked down at the small, skinny man with the dirty blue baseball cap. "I'm Faith."

  "Nelson," he said, holding his hand out. "Pleased to meet you."

  As she shook Nelson's hand, she looked back at TJ. She could tell by the look on his face that unloading mulch was the last thing TJ Viscolli wanted to do. But he didn't argue. Instead, he glared at Nelson. "Let's get it done, then."

  CHAPTER 5

  FAITH pulled the goggles down from the top of her helmet and covered her eyes with them. She took the stick in her gloved hand. After a thumb's up from her engineer, she pushed the throttle forward and taxied down the runway. In no time, she was airborne. Minutes later, she checked her position in the formation of six vintage aircraft. As she looked over, she saw her cousin Alfred and smiled. He gave her an answering grin and broke away from the formation to begin his stunts.

  As Faith flew the routine she'd done a hundred times before, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. TJ had taken her to dinner every night that week. She couldn't believe how much she'd enjoyed herself.

  Working in a field dominated by confident men, she'd never really been open to being pursued. She'd had a few boyfriends here and there in her twenty-four years, but never anything serious. For some reason, she didn't feel like TJ belonged in the casual relationship corner of her mind. The man dominated her thoughts. Even now, while performing a highly complicated stunt routine, she couldn't stop thinking about him.

  He was careful not to bring up her grandmother, but the lack of talking about it was almost as bad as if he showed an interest. She knew he was just trying to reassure her that he was interested in her and not her family history. And, maybe he had started to understand on some level. She imagined people had tried to befriend TJ his entire life just to get close to his father.

  She suddenly wondered if he could ever trust anyone's motivations at the outset of any relationship. How did he handle that? How did a family that came across as so open and loving handle that?

  Somehow, in the course of a few days and nights, they had become a couple, if only informally. They closed every evening with a stroll on the beach where they ended up sitting in the very same spot they'd occupied on the night of the party. They talked for hours, about flying, family, history, America, England — they talked about everything. And just when he would get a serious look in his eye, just when she knew he wanted to recapture that moment right when he was about to kiss her in his office, she would push herself to her feet and bid him good night.

  Why? Why not let him kiss her? He was breathtakingly handsome, smarter than almost anyone she'd ever known, shared her love and her passion for the history of the second world war, and was wealthy well beyond her personal experience. Why not let him kiss her?

  Because it was Christmas Eve, and in a week she'd leave this beautiful patch of the Atlantic Ocean and go back home to her island. She was afraid that if she let him kiss her, she'd fall completely in love with him. Maybe if she didn't let him kiss her, her heart wouldn't break as badly as she already knew it would.

  On cue, she broke away from the pack and executed a series of rolls. She often wished they'd pipe in the crowd's responses when they performed their stunts. It would be amazing to hear the cheers and know what worked and what didn't. Of course, they'd all seen the recordings of the events many times, so they were able to hear the applause later, but she suspected it wasn't the same as a live response.

  As a team, the six planes wrote in the sky and formed a Christmas star. Faith knew they all performed perfectly, and that the star would look amazing against the vivid blue sky.

  She regained the formation and watched as Alfred came back. They flew low to the ground, buzzed the spectator stand, then straight back up, centered with the runway beneath, and started to break off one at a time to land. Faith took her turn, shot to the right and went to shoot up and turn around to prepare for landing when a hard jolt threw her plane to the side and an explosive noise startled her. She shot her head to the right and saw Alfred's plane in a spin rolling away from hers.

  He'd hit her! Several feet of her right wing had completely vanished!

  Every emergency scenario she knew and had practiced darted through her mind as she battled the stick. Then every emergency scenario she had only even heard of that ended in survival flashed through her mind.

  In a few heartbeats, Faith had assessed all of her options. She didn't have the altitude to trade for speed so she could ditch over the water. She didn't have the speed to trade for altitude for a slow and low landing on the northbound runway. But she had guts, she had brains, and she had Texas Diamond.

  She pulled out of the uncontrolled left bank, her rudder to the maximum and her stick against the fire wall. She fought to control a right roll, battling and coaxing the broken machine. As the runway raced up at her, she prayed out loud.

  "Please God, strength is what I need now," she begged, as she pulled up hard on the stick. If she could survive this, it would be a miracle, a bona fide answer to prayer. No matter what happened, she had to protect the bystanders and spectators below, even if she didn't walk away from this one. Faith really wanted to walk away from this one. As the entire planet came rushing up at her, she struggled to land. It wasn't going to be pretty but she'd take a rough landing given a choice.

  She lowered her landing gear and aimed for the dotted line. To her very great relief, she felt the struts lock into place before the runway greeted the aircraft. As much as Faith wanted to, she didn't close her eyes when she felt the wheels scrape the runway, bounce off, then scrape again.

  Finally, the wheels gently touched the runway and rolled. Faith pulled the stick all the way back with both hands, screaming with the exertion and strain. Her feet felt like they might punch all the way through the floorboards. Her back muscles burned with the exertion as she stood up on the brakes. She had to stop. She had to stop, now.

  As she brought the plane to a complete stop, she felt all the breath evacuate from her lungs. She gasped and swallowed deep lung-fulls of air before she popped the canopy and slid her helmet off. Her whole body shook with fear and adrenaline. She needed to get out of the aircraft's confines.

  As she started to climb out, she heard the impact of Alfred's plane accompanied by shocked screams from the bleachers. Her head shot in that direction and she saw the billowing black smoke coming from a field several hundred yards off the runway.

  As she climbed out of the aircraft and started to run on rubbery legs toward the impact site, Elizabeth pulled up in a Jeep. "He jettisoned!" she yelled and pointed at the sky. "Look!"

  Faith looked up and saw the parachute carrying her cousin safely away from the burning wreckage. "Oh thank You, God. Thank You Lord above," she prayed, and felt her knees completely give out from under her.

  Elizabeth appeared at her side instantly. "No," Faith said, waving at her with a weak hand. "Please. Go get Alfred. I'm okay. I'll just wait right here."

  "Come with me."

  "No. I need the earth beneath me just now," Faith explained. Nausea rolled around in her stomach and she didn't think she would be able to handle jostling through a field in a four-wheel drive vehicle. She put a shaking hand to her forehead and leaned her head back against the plane's wheel.

  A minute or two after Elizabeth drove away, Faith heard footsteps pounding down the runway toward her. She opened her eyes, expecting to see her engineer or another pilot. Instead, to her surprise, TJ Viscolli raced toward her, his face pale and his eyes wide. She realized he was calling her name.

  "Faith! Faith!"

  She slowly rose to her feet. Her knees felt like they were made of water and her stomach felt light. Her peripheral vision began to dim with each heartbeat and she realized that she was experiencing mild shock.

  Perhaps one second before she would have simply fainted onto the concrete runway, TJ caught her in his surprisingly strong arms and held her upright on her feet. She studied his face, s
o concerned, so worried. His eyes were deep brown, the color of milk chocolate.

  "Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you all right?"

  "Well, yes, I suppose I am. Made a bit of a bodge of it, though. I confess I feel completely barmy." When she saw the look of confusion on his face, she burst out laughing.

  His face never changed. "You were amazing, Faith. You're just reacting to the adrenaline. Why don't we sit back down?"

  "I find that I rather like being in your arms," she said, looping hers over his neck. Her arms felt weak and rubbery, so she gripped her wrist with one hand to keep them up.

  She tripped against him and he quickly turned his body and stepped back, stopping when his back hit her plane. "I have you trapped now," Faith said on a giggle, then stood on her toes and put her lips against his.

  Her first thought was how warm his mouth felt. Her second thought was how he didn't move. His hands stayed perfectly still, gripping her hips as if to pull her away, and his lips remained immobile.

  Undaunted, she pulled back and looked him in the eye. "I know you want to kiss me. You've wanted to all week."

  He cleared his throat. "Not like this."

  "Like what? Like when I'm intoxicated on adrenaline? I'm still in my right mind, Viscolli. I'm so happy to be alive and I'm incredibly happy to see you. So kiss me."

  She watched his eyes flare with emotion before he put a hand along the side of her neck, his fingers on the back of her head, and crushed his mouth to hers. She didn't know if it was his kiss or the rush of adrenaline and endorphins in her brain, but her head started spinning and her heart felt like it might beat itself out of her chest. A roaring sounded in her ears and she tightened her arms and stood back up on her toes, desperate to get closer to him. His arm tightened around her waist and his other hand gripped the back of her hair while he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her.

  He finally slowed and gentled the kiss, gradually, until their lips were just a whisper apart. She opened her eyes and saw him staring at her with such an intense expression in his chocolate brown eyes that she couldn't breathe. She slid a hand down to cup his cheek and felt her eyes well with tears.