Reckless Rogue

by Davis, Mary

  Almost.

  Her knowledge had to be all head knowledge she memorized somewhere. It wasn’t practical or from experience. Until you lived it, it wasn’t real. He enjoyed watching Lizzie experience the real thing for the first time.

  “I guess we’re on our own, Fred.” Lizzie wouldn’t be helping with repairs this time. He kicked the ground. He should have test-flown Jenny first by himself. He walked back through town and headed toward the highway and the bridge that crossed the small river. He leaned against the railing and watched the water rolling by. Automobiles passed behind him at regular intervals, but he didn’t give them more than a cursory thought.

  One stopped and blew its horn. “There you are.”

  He turned and smiled at Lizzie. She was like a fresh spring rain.

  Lizzie opened her door. “Come on, Fred.”

  Fred hopped in immediately.

  She closed her door. “You have to come with me now. I have your dog.”

  He swaggered over. “Are you kidnapping my dog?”

  “You, too. Get in.”

  “What if I refuse?”

  “You’ll never see your dog again.” She rolled the car forward.

  He jumped onto the running board, stepped over the door into the back, then over the seat into the front.

  Lizzie laughed and sped up.

  He fell back into the seat. “It’s good to see you. I thought you weren’t coming.”

  “I said I’d come.”

  “After yesterday I thought you might have been frightened off.” He straightened himself.

  “I don’t scare so easily. I’m what you might call a modern woman.”

  “You think so?”

  She nodded and turned onto a lesser-used dirt road and swung back around into town. “I’ll show you that surprise now.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you wait so long to come?”

  “I forgot that it’s laundry day. I had to get the washing done and the clothes hung up. I can’t stay long. I have to start taking the clothes down and iron Daddy’s work shirts.”

  He’d heard her mention her dad a couple of times now, and he got the impression the man might not be happy with his little girl coming to see him. “Say, when I get Jenny flying again, how about I take your dad for a ride?”

  Lizzie jerked her head toward him. “No!” She just stared at him.

  “Lizzie, look out.” He grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it, but they still ran off the road.

  She slammed her foot on the brake pedal.

  He threw his hands out to the dashboard and caught himself as the Tin Lizzie came to a sudden stop and the engine chugged off. “You can never be that careless when you fly.”

  “You can’t tell Daddy I rode in your aeroplane.”

  So her dad would disapprove of not only him but also of what his daughter had been doing. Pete wasn’t sure why. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Though he was a bit concerned about her driving. That was twice that he knew of she’d run off the road.

  “Promise me you won’t tell him.”

  “I’ve never met your dad.”

  “It’s actually best if you don’t. Daddy doesn’t even like automobiles, but we got this on account of his wooden leg. He can’t walk from the farm to the post office where he works. If he knew I was up in an aeroplane, he’d have a fit. But I don’t think he knows people can take rides in aeroplanes. He hasn’t mentioned you being in town.” She opened the throttle and pressed the electric start, and the engine came back to life.

  He put a hand on her arm. “Lizzie, it’s all right. You want me to drive?”

  She took a deep breath. “No, I’m fine.” She drove back onto the road.

  “So where are your wings?”

  Lizzie jerked her head toward him. “My what?”

  He grabbed the wheel. “Keep your eyes on the road!”

  “Are you this nervous when you fly?”

  “No. Only when you drive. Maybe you should let me take over.”

  “I’m fine. What did you mean by my wings?”

  “I saw an advertisement for ‘the confection of the fairies,’ and there was your picture.”

  She sighed, evidently relieved. “Oh, that. I was dressed up and on the Liberty Orchard float, as well.”

  “Have you always had this dream to strap on wings and fly?”

  She nodded. “I always loved to watch birds soaring in the sky, and when I was fourteen, I read a story about aviation.”

  “You know most pilots are men. I can’t name a single female pilot.”

  “A girl in Kansas named Kitty flew a heavier-than-air craft. Harriet Quimby flew over the English Channel in 1912. What about Katherine Stinson, Ruth Law, and Matilde Moisant? And Bessie Coleman went over to Europe to get her pilot’s license. She couldn’t get it here simply because of the color of her skin. And me.”

  Lizzie knew more than he did. But it took more than head knowledge to be a good pilot. It took skill, experience, and a natural aptitude. Few had the God-given gift. He was grateful when Lizzie pulled up to a garage and parked beside the building.

  Good, a mechanic who might be able to help him with his camshaft. This must be where she’d pumped all the gasoline for him.

  An old man who looked like he could have fought in the War Between the States came out wiping his hands down a pair of greasy coveralls. Pete nodded. His kind of man.

  “Hi, Lizzie.”

  “Hi, Bill. You remember Lieutenant Pete Garfield, the pilot.”

  Bill shoved his hand out. “Nice to meet you again.”

  Pete shook the old man’s hand. He remembered now. He’d taken the man up three times.

  “Can we go around back? I want to show Pete.”

  Bill shoved his thumb against his upper teeth and gave them a push, then wiggled his lips around. “That’s better. Let’s go.”

  Pete followed Lizzie and the old man around the building to another structure that wasn’t quite a building or a barn. It had a roof and three sides, and inside something very large was draped in a canvas tarp. This must be the surprise. And from the size and shape, Pete had a pretty good guess what it was.

  Bill grabbed a corner of the tarp and slowly pulled it off the spindly frame of a monoplane.

  Pete leaned toward Lizzie. “He’s your pilot friend?”

  She shrugged. “Could be your friend, too.”

  Anyone who was handing Lizzie her dreams to fly was going to be no friend of Pete’s. He wanted to be her only means to fly. He wanted her to look only to him for the fulfillment of her hope to fly. But the aeroplane wasn’t nearly finished. Lizzie wouldn’t be going up in that any time soon. Besides, the old man might never finish it. A lot of people started aeroplanes and never got them off the ground.

  He patted Bill on the back. “So you’re building a Bleriot?”

  Bill gave a shy smile then pointed to Lizzie. “It’s hers.”

  “You’re building it for Lizzie?” He did seem like a sweet old man.

  “Shoot, no. I couldn’t build nothing like this. Lizzie’s building it. I’m just giving her the space to do it.”

  Pete turned to Lizzie. She smiled triumphantly, and he could feel his jaw hanging slack.

  ❧

  Lizzie’s insides were all bubbly as Pete stared at her with his mouth hanging open. “Surprise.”

  Pete pulled up his jaw and looked like he was going to form a word. His lips moved, but nothing came out. Then he shook his head.

  She wasn’t sure what to think. Was he impressed or not? “I’ve been working on it all summer. I thought I’d have it done, but it looks like I won’t get to fly her until next summer.”

  Pete pointed to her aeroplane and tried again to say something but was unsuccessful.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Well, I’ll be. Lieutenant Pete Garfield at a loss for words. Let me help you. ‘Darb, Lizzie. I’m so proud of you. Aren’t you just the cat’s meow.’ ”

  Pete waved a hand to
ward the craft and again failed to speak.

  She knew how to get him to talk and made her voice deep, pretending to be him. “ ‘Well, Lizzie, since you have your own aeroplane, I’d love to let you fly mine.’ ”

  “No.”

  That did it. “You can speak.”

  “You are the other pilot in town? This is how you know so much about different aeroplanes? You are building a Bleriot?”

  “Why is it so shocking? I understand lots of people are building them.”

  “Well yes, but a doll?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Is there something wrong with a doll building an aeroplane?”

  “No. I just never once imagined you building an aeroplane.”

  “Well, snap out of it, or I won’t help you fix your Jenny. Then you’ll be permanently grounded and asking to fly my aeroplane.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, and he stepped closer. “I think I’ll get my aeroplane in the air before you get yours.”

  She slapped him on the arm. “That’s the spirit. Now I think our best shot at a camshaft will be in Wenatchee. I can drive us there tomorrow.”

  “Maybe you should let me drive?”

  He’d been scared by her driving. She let a slow smile pull at her mouth. “I’ll let you drive my Tin Lizzie if you let me fly your Jenny.”

  He held his hands out to his sides. “My life is in your hands.”

  She was disappointed he hadn’t even stopped to think about it. She’d wear him down.

  Pete ran his hand along the glistening frame. “I can see that you have it all framed, and it appears you have a varnish finish on it already. Are you following design plans?”

  “I have them at home.”

  “What kind of engine do you have?” Pete walked to the nose.

  “A Continental.”

  “Good. The more common fan and Y-type Anzani aren’t as good.”

  That’s what she’d read. It was good to have that confirmed.

  He walked along the other side and studied her wing construction. “What’s your next step?”

  “I have all the cotton to cover the frame, but I’m not sure how to make it fit tight.”

  “Just pull the fabric as tight as you can, and the dope will do the rest. As it dries, it will pull it tight as a drum. Do you want me to help you get started wrapping it?”

  “Sure.” Tears stung the back of her eyes. To have Pete help her meant so much to her. A real pilot. Someone who knew what he was doing. Someone who’d done more than read about aeroplanes. She quickly turned away and went to the crate with all the cotton fabric in it. He’d never respect her as a pilot if he saw her cry.

  ❧

  Pete stared at Lizzie standing near his Jenny. He’d spent two hours helping her put fabric on her Bleriot frame. They’d only gotten the tail fitted, but she was so happy. She had a smudge of grease on her cheek. She was absolutely incredible. He still couldn’t believe she was building her own aeroplane. He doubted she’d ever get it in the air, but just that she would go against convention and even try. She was something else.

  Pete took Lizzie’s hands and, stepping closer, pulled them behind her with his own hands. “I’m going to kiss you, Lizzie Carter.”

  She smiled sweetly up at him. “No you’re not.”

  His mouth pulled up on one side. “It looks like I am.” A small voice inside said, Just do it. Quick. But he didn’t.

  She shook her head gently.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want you to.”

  He groaned. “You sure do know how to spoil a guy’s intentions.” He loosened his grip on her hands, but she didn’t try to free herself.

  She kept her head tilted back, looking up at him. And her eyes. . .oh, those beautiful blue eyes, the color of the evening sky, begging him to kiss her. Or were they daring him to go against her wishes?

  “I have to go now,” she said in a lilting whisper but still made no move to free herself.

  He released one hand and held the other as he walked her over to her Tin Lizzie, and she climbed in. He gripped the bottom edge of the open window. “Lizzie, why won’t you let me kiss you?” He’d never once had this much trouble garnering a simple kiss before. Dolls usually threw themselves at him, giggling. He could have all the kisses he wanted, but Lizzie was special. He knew a kiss from her would be worth the wait. And he was determined to wait. As long as it took. He no longer wanted a stolen kiss; he wanted one freely given by Lizzie. One she would gladly return.

  She smiled, put on her driving goggles, and pushed the starter.

  So she wasn’t going to answer him. “Lizzie, you are not nearly as modern as you like to think.”

  She let the Ford roll a few feet, then stopped and turned in her seat. “If I let you kiss me, then you’ll fly away.” The Ford was rolling again before she turned back around.

  Keep your eyes on the road, he wanted to call after her but just stared at her receding automobile. Was she right? Would he leave? It’s what he’d always done in the past.

  Kiss and run.

  Seven

  The next day, Pete stood in front of a diner in Wenatchee and watched Lizzie drive away. She was going to see a friend of her dad’s and said she couldn’t take him with her, but she’d be back for him in a bit and they’d go to a mechanic who could help them. He didn’t want to stay at the diner because Fred would have to stay outside alone, so he walked toward the river. He’d be back before Lizzie returned. When he got near the train station, he saw a familiar, hunch-shouldered figure. Was Finn leaving? He hustled across the street with Fred on his heels and caught up with Finn inside the train station. “Finn.”

  The old-timer turned. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was wondering the same thing about you. I’m only here because I saw you coming in here. Are you leaving?”

  The old man looked down guiltily. “Maybe.”

  “Did you take care of your family business in Cashmere?”

  Finn frowned. “I never said I had no family business.”

  “You said you had business to take care of and ever since I was a little boy and you traveled from one side of Washington to the other with me, you talked about having family in Cashmere.”

  Finn pursed his lips. “That’s none of your business.”

  Pete could tell that Finn was running. He was all too familiar with that. Sometimes it was best for everyone if you just left. Other times, you needed to face whatever it was. He suspected it was time for Finn to finally face this one. “You can’t leave until you do what you came to do. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

  The old man’s stooped shoulders drooped even more than usual. “I just don’t know if I can do it. I’ve done some things I’m not too proud of.”

  Had the old man been running from his past his whole life? “We all have regrets. Make this one less.”

  “Fred!”

  Pete ignored the exclamation near him until two men knelt down and petted his dog. “How did you know his name?”

  The older of the two men stood. He looked to be around thirty, a well-dressed, handsome blond man. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. As children, we knew a dog that looked just like yours, and her name was Fred.”

  The younger man, in his early twenties, picked up Fred and continued to pet him.

  That was too much of a coincidence. “I, too, knew a female dog named Fred. This is her grandson. I named him Fred after her.”

  Fred was lapping up the attention as well as licking the younger man’s face.

  Finn pointed a finger at the other man. “And the female Fred belonged to a man named Conner Jackson, I bet.”

  “Yes,” both Pete and the man said. They looked at each other.

  “You are that troublesome boy, Burl Martin.”

  The blond man straightened his shoulders. “Burl MacGregor now. My sister and Ian adopted me as their son.”

  Finn pointed a gnarly finger at the younger man holding Fre
d. “And you must be little Miles.” The younger man nodded but looked a bit confused.

  Burl smiled. “And you are that man who was friends with Grandpa. Finn, right?”

  Finn nodded. “I was so sorry when Arthur passed away. I just couldn’t stay in Seattle no more. Are you still causing your sister grief?”

  Burl shook his head. “Pa sent me to medical school. I’m a doctor. Miles is getting his training now, and then we’ll have two doctors in the family.”

  Finn smiled. “How are your parents? And a younger sister, if I recall.”

  “Seven,” Burl and Miles said in unison. Then Miles continued. “They could have at least given us another brother.”

  The train whistle blew. “All aboard,” the conductor called.

  Miles thrust Fred into Pete’s arms, and Burl said, “We have to go. It was real good seeing you, Finn.”

  “Tell your parents hello from me.”

  “We will. They’ll be glad to know you’re doing well.” The two men climbed aboard and waved as the train began to pull away.

  Finn slowly turned to Pete. “Family’s important, isn’t it?”

  “Very.” Pete didn’t have much, but he treasured his aunt. He missed her.

  “All right. I’ll go back to Cashmere and settle things, but I’m not going up in that flying contraption of yours.”

  Pete didn’t need to tell Finn his aeroplane was broken. He’d never get the old-timer up in it again. “It just so happens, I can offer you a ride in a Tin Lizzie.”

  “Humph. That’s almost as bad.” Finn certainly didn’t like machinery.

  He and Finn walked back to the diner. Lizzie waited, leaning against her Ford.

  “Hello again.” She smiled at Finn.

  Lizzie took Pete to a mechanic and got everything he’d need to repair Jenny.

  As they drove back into Cashmere, Lizzie asked Finn, “Who are you going to see? I bet I know just where they live and can drop you off on their doorstep.”

  Finn tipped his well-worn hat. “No offense, miss, but I’d rather walk. I know my way.” When she stopped in the field near Pete’s aeroplane, Finn walked off.

  “Finn doesn’t like automobiles or aeroplanes. But he doesn’t mind trains for some reason.”