Turning, he went back down the hall and headed for the side parking lot. Mind spinning with possibilities, dreams and happiness, Sam floated down the concrete stairs to the black asphalt. Around him, the air was chilly, in the fifties, and the sky cloudy. Still, the sun shone strongly, but not warmly. Placing his briefcase behind the seat of his Corvette, he climbed in. Some of his elation was tempered by Megan’s reaction to his news. He started up the car, the engine growling contentedly. What would she think? As he guided the car out of the parking lot, his happiness waned, deluged by cold, harsh reality.
Trying to wrestle with his emotions over the promotion, the joy and the terror, Sam drove more slowly than usual over to the elementary school at the end of the base. Since Christmas, his relationship with Megan had been steadier, more hopeful. They did take it one day at a time. Since his nightmare at her apartment, Sam avoided staying overnight with her, unconsciously wanting to avoid a talk about Russ, or the crash. When they were together, it was great. But every time he left late at night, he saw the confusion and question in Megan’s eyes. He was giving her mixed signals, and he knew it. Afraid to tell her about his fear of dying because it might impact the fragile trust he’d established with Megan, Sam felt trapped.
Much of his joy was left behind in a backwash. Megan had been brutally honest with him about everything. He hadn’t been. With a grimace, Holt pulled into the school and spotted Megan waiting for him at the front doors. The wind was blowing, her red hair tousled. The tan raincoat hid most of her, but the orange blouse and khaki-colored slacks beneath it did nothing but emphasize how beautiful she was in his eyes.
Holt got out, opening the door for her. They had made a promise not to show their feelings in public for many reasons. Once in the car, driving toward the front gate, Megan leaned and kissed his cheek.
“It’s all over base. Did you make early promotion to major?” Megan saw his mouth purse slightly. A part of her prayed he hadn’t, but another part did.
“Three of us made it,” he said, squeezing her hand gently. “Curt and Stang didn’t.” Glancing over at her, he worried about her reaction.
“Congratulations.”
Sam studied her. Megan’s face was clear, her eyes flecked with gold. “You mean that?”
A slight smiled pulled at her mouth. “Why are you concerned about what I think or feel regarding the promotion?”
“Because you’re important to me.”
She laid her head on the black leather rest. “My father never asked my mother or I if we cared. But then, I’m finding you do care. So, what was your reaction when you first saw the list?”
“When I saw my name on it, I got excited, and then I felt like somebody gut-punched me,” Sam admitted slowly. At the gate, the air police sentry snapped to attention, saluting and waving them through. Once past the gate, he devoted his attention to Megan, his stomach tight with tension.
“Fear?” she prodded.
“I thought the promotion might scare you, or make you run from me.”
His brutal honesty affected her deeply. Megan sighed. “The part of me that remembers my past is scared to death, Sam.” She leaned over, resting her head on his broad shoulder. “The other part of me is so proud of you. I know what this means—the B-2 assignment, and ongoing testing as soon as the Agile Eagle is completed.”
Mouth dry, words came hard to Sam. “What are your feelings about that?”
“On some nights, after you’ve left, I can’t sleep.”
“Seems to be a part of our lifestyle, doesn’t it?”
She heard the anguish in his tone. “There’s a lot of things that make up for that, though,” Megan added softly, sliding her hand across the olive-green fabric covering his taut thigh. “I like your thoughtfulness toward me, your sensitivity. There aren’t many men who can express what they feel and think, and I like sharing that with you.”
Some of the tension began to drain from Sam. “Like the nights we make popcorn in the fireplace while I squeeze the bellows to make the flames nice and high?”
Megan laughed. “Yes, all those things, too, darling.”
“You’re such a kid,” Sam teased, genuinely beginning to feel the elation of the promotion because Megan was cautiously optimistic about it.
“Look who’s talking.”
With a hearty laugh, Sam nodded. “Shot down again.” Megan was an incredibly sensitive woman, the passion they shared made from a rich texture woven with love, even if neither of them would admit it to one another. Sam knew she must love him, but he didn’t know how much or how little. He loved her unequivocally.
Gently, Megan pushed her fears and her apprehension aside. Sam had made major, and he deserved to celebrate his good fortune. “Tonight, I’m taking you out to dinner, Major Holt, to celebrate your promotion.”
Pleased, Sam slid his arm around her shoulders and crushed her momentarily against him. “You can take me to dinner, but we’ll have dessert at my home.”
Heat flowed through Megan, sweet and beckoning as she rested against him. Sam’s confidence in himself, in their future together, always awed her. At first, there were more days where Megan feared that their relationship would never work or even survive. Now, nearly three months later, Megan had swung to the opposite opinion. There were more days where she felt sure that what they shared was love, and that it could work if they continued to tend and cultivate it with care. Closing her eyes, she murmured, “I know it’s not right, but I’d sure like to have dessert before dinner. What do you think?”
Pleasure sang through Sam. “Anytime I can have you in my arms, in or out of bed, is all I want.”
“I love the idea, Major.” The thrill of being in Sam’s arms, making hungry, passionate love with him, was always wonderful. It wouldn’t be a happy night at the Merrill or Stang homes, however. Megan wondered what it was going to be like at the Stang residence tonight. It could hardly be a celebration.
Jack held on to his anguish as he entered his home. Melody met him at the door, obviously hearing that the promotion list had come out. There was anticipation in her eyes, and he felt shamed that he’d failed her—and himself. Dressed in a long-sleeved white silk blouse, gold scarf and black wool pants, she looked stunning. Melody slid her hand around his arm as he closed the door. He was shaking inside, and clenched his fists to stop from screaming, crying, or both.
“The list,” Melody said breathlessly, “did you make it?” Melody looked up, her smile disappearing.
“Where’s Scotty?” Jack growled, halting in the middle of the living room to search for his son. What he had to say wasn’t meant for his young ears. Further, he didn’t want Scotty to see him like this, almost out of control.
Melody hesitated. “Uh, he’s still at school. Remember? There was a slide show on the San Diego Zoo, and then the children were going to have dinner at the cafeteria.” She glanced at her watch. “He’ll be home in an hour.”
Some of Jack’s control disintegrated, and he closed his eyes. A scream tried to lurch out of his constricted throat. Mired in grief, he heard Melody’s stabilizing voice.
“Jack, what is it? My God, you look terrible. The promotion?”
Anguish soared through him as he opened his eyes and looked down at her lovely face. “I—” And he choked. With a helpless shrug, he forced the words out. “The promotion list came out today. I wasn’t on it….”
Melody’s hands flew to her lips, but the cry got past her. She took a step back, her eyes flooding with tears. “Oh, no! Oh, Jack…”
Breathing hard, letting the words, the feelings, tumble out of him, he rasped, “It was those two bitches, Roberts and Porter. They did me in. I just know it! Christ, if they were men, I’d beat the hell out of them! Roberts zeroed in on our son, making a big deal out of nothing. Porter’s had it in for me ever since I was assigned to this project.” His vision blurred, and he spun around. Tears! Of all the damned things!
With a muffled cry, Melody threw her arms around Jack’s n
eck and held him tightly. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, honey,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “This has never happened before! You made early lieutenant and captain. There was no reason not to get early major!”
Clinging to her, Jack buried his face in her hair, a sob tearing from deep within him. He crushed Melody hard against him and fought the reaction. Test pilots didn’t cry. They didn’t show emotions. But Melody’s softened weeping only spurred the reaction in him. For the next five minutes, Jack surrendered to the need to cry out his frustration and anger.
Tearfully, Melody eased out of his arms and led him to the couch. She brought a box of tissues over, setting it between them. Blotting his cheeks with one, she whispered, “Tell me what happened. Who else made it?”
Miserably, Jack told her everything. Melody’s surprise over Holt making it confirmed his own suspicions. Angrily rubbing his face dry of the tears, he muttered, “Porter has always liked Holt! She’s always favored him. And the bastard crashed! He crashed! And he still got early promotion. Dammit, I’ve done everything right, and I get nothing!”
Gripping his hand, Melody sat there thinking. “Holt’s got one powerful sponsor, then,” she said quietly.
“Where the hell was mine when this all came down?” Jack groaned. “I know I’ve got one. Or did he desert me over this fiasco with Scotty?” Once a sponsor left, Jack knew he had no one to back his career. It was a dire sign; something he refused to acknowledge—yet.
“Get a copy of your fitness report, Jack. That’s the first thing to do. Let’s find out if Porter is playing favorites.”
“I know she is,” he growled, glaring out across the living room.
“See what she wrote on your report. If it’s vague, you can fight it!” Her voice rose a notch with hope. “Honey, we can fight it. Together.”
He held her tear-filled gaze. It hurt to disappoint Melody. “We’ve worked so hard for this. I feel like I’ve let you down.”
Caressing Jack’s cheek, Melody shook her head. “I don’t feel let down. I feel like we’ve been stabbed in the back.”
“By Porter.” Taking a deep breath, he added, “She halted testing on my engine redesign idea.”
“What?” Melody stood up, her eyes huge. “She what?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. I had a hell of a fight in a Design meeting with her about continued testing, but she said no.” Jack shook his head. “And then that bastard Holt came up with a stupid idea about using canards on the nose to give the bird more lift and keep it out of stall position longer.”
Rubbing her brow, Melody began to pace. “We’ve got to do something to stop it.”
He snorted, his eyes slits. “Don’t worry, I intend to do something about it, Melody. I’ve got a plan. I’m not letting that bitch stop me! I’m going to prove her and Holt wrong.”
Delighted, Melody sat back down, placing her arm around his shoulders. “A plan?” she said hopefully.
“Yes. First, I’ve got to do my homework. I’ll get a hold of Merrill on Sunday morning. Porter sandbagged him, too. I’m sure he’ll want to throw in with my plan.”
“Jack, give him time to talk to Becky. He’s got to be as upset as you are,” she counseled swiftly. “While I make us dinner, you fill me in on this plan. Right now, two heads are better than one.”
Leaning wearily against Melody’s shoulder, Jack closed his eyes, needing to be held for just a minute. Melody wrapped her arms around him and pressed a small kiss on his brow. “Okay,” he uttered tiredly, “I’ll wait. I’ll hit him with it Sunday morning.”
Melody gently rocked him in her arms. “I’m sure Becky’s overjoyed Curt didn’t make major.”
Becky heard the front door open and close. She quickly put the lid back on the dumplings she was in the process of making and peeked out the kitchen. Curt looked tired and disappointed. He dropped his briefcase on the couch, along with his dark blue garrison cap.
“You look tired,” she greeted, walking over to him and giving him a hello kiss.
Curt barely returned the kiss and embraced Becky because he needed her strength. “I didn’t make it, Sparrow.”
“What?” Becky tilted her head upward. Curt looked as if he’d been kicked in the head, or worse. What had gone on today? “Oh…oh, dear, the promotion list!” Her hand tightened on the sleeve of his flight suit.
He couldn’t even be angry with her because she’d forgotten. Curt held her startled expression. “I didn’t get early promotion. Holt did, but Stang and I didn’t.”
Relief shattered through Becky, and she murmured, “Lordy.” She felt Curt’s arms tighten around her, and she embraced him long and hard, realizing how disappointed he was. Resting her head against his chest, she asked softly, “What does this mean?”
Running his hand up and down her small back, Curt sagged. “Bad news for me, Sparrow. When the Agile Eagle is completed, I’ll probably get orders to test pilot school to be an instructor or—” he swallowed hard “—get put back into a fighter squadron.”
Becky stood there, not believing the words she’d prayed to hear for so long. Curt would stop being a test pilot shortly. He’d stop risking his life on a daily basis. When he had flown the F-15 as a fighter pilot, she had been able to cope with that stress far better than this kind. She released the shaky sigh.
“I’m sorry, darlin’, I truly am.” Becky hoped she didn’t sound insincere. She loved Curt too much to do that to him.
Holding her for a long moment, Curt absorbed her small feminine form. He needed her kind of strength right now, because he felt the world was crumbling around him. “I don’t want to go back to just flying. I like testing. I’m good at it. If only they’d give me another chance…if only…” And then, he asked in anguish, “What’s my father going to think? How am I going to face him? The family?”
Becky held her husband tightly, her knuckles white, fingers dug into her palms as she pressed him against herself. She prayed for the opposite: that they’d release him to active duty flying. She didn’t care where, just as long as it was away from Edwards, and the threat of him augering in at least once a week.
“If they truly love you, Curt, they’ll understand and support you—no matter what your assignment is.”
“My father’s going to hit the ceiling when I tell him.”
“Wait a few days,” Becky advised. “You’ll feel better and be able to handle his disappointment.” Eventually, Becky released him and led him into the kitchen. Curt sat down at the table and she poured him a cup of coffee. Only then did she return to making the dumplings.
Curt sat there, glumly staring off into space, not touching the fragrant coffee. Ordinarily, when he came home, always starved, he looked forward to the smells coming out of the kitchen. He had no appetite tonight.
“I imagine Sam was happy,” Becky pointed out, lifting out the dumplings one at a time from the huge pot of boiling water and into a nearby bowl.
“Yeah, he was.” Curt grimaced. “I wish there was some way to prove myself, to prove I can fly as good as he and Stang. I know I can. I’ve just had lousy luck, lousy weather conditions. Damn.”
“It’s bad luck,” she agreed softly. Compressing her lips, Becky smoothed out her blue-and-white checked cotton apron across her pink slacks. Today, she had worn a red blouse. Red, her mother had always told her, gave one strength. Funny, how she knew to wear it. Becky didn’t even want to think how she’d have felt if Curt had gotten his major’s leaves. That would’ve meant at least three more years at Edwards, testing.
Gripping the mug of coffee, Curt whispered, “I can’t go back to a squadron. God, I’ll die there, not after having it all. Not after testing. It’ll be boring.” He got up, wandering into the living room.
Becky craned her neck, unable to leave the dumplings that were at a critical stage of being cooked in the hot water. Worriedly, she prayed there was no way for Curt to stay at Edwards. It could be a matter of weeks, perhaps a month, before the Agile Eagle testing w
as completed. She could hold on for that long, she knew. Just a little while longer…
18
“Look, dammit,” Jack said to Curt, “my plan can work!” He glanced at his watch. “It’s five-thirty. Get into your flight suit, and we’ll drive down to Ops. Major Porter is out of town for the weekend, but she approved the test.”
Curt rubbed his face. He stood in the middle of the living room, still clad in his cotton pajamas. “Jack, you said you got clearance to take the Agile Eagle up?”
“Yes!” Jack said impatiently. “I need a backseat. You can double as the flight engineer on this test.” He thrust a group of papers under Curt’s nose. “I worked fourteen hours Saturday devising a new and better test. All we’ve got to do is fly it! You call out the numbers, and I’ll put that baby on the fifteen-hundred-foot mark every time.” Jack gestured out the window. “Winds aren’t calm, either. They’re from the direction that gave us so much trouble before. Porter’s test demands were too strict. This time,” he said, tapping the papers Curt held, “we’ll make those test results stick.”
Warily, Curt looked over his shoulder. Becky had awakened when Jack had rung the doorbell earlier. The bedroom door was ajar. Had she gone back to sleep, or was she listening? “But will Major Porter accept your flight test even if the bird makes the marker?”
“Hell, yes!” Jack rasped violently. “We’ll have proof that the bird can do it! There’s no way she can dispute success. She’ll have to take our numbers. Then, we can wrap this project up.” Gripping Curt by the shoulder, Jack said, “You want your major’s leaves early, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Throwing his hands on his hips, Jack gave him a triumphant look. “When we come back after successfully flying this test I devised, believe me, we can challenge our fitness reports that Porter wrote up on us. We can challenge them and win! Think of it! You’ll be a major!”
Curt heard movement behind him. Becky was up. She’d heard. Gripping Jack’s shoulder, he motioned him toward the door. “My wife’s up. Since you’ve got authorization to fly, I’ll meet you outside in about ten minutes.”
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