Chapter 1 #3
Pausing beside the dual wing, she put her hands on her hips. “It wasn’t too dangerous for Katherine Stinson. She flew the mail two years ago just fine.”
This was going every bit as well as he thought it would. Of course, she would bring up Katherine Stinson. They were probably best friends.
“Katherine Stinson only made four flights for the airmail. It was a disaster.” And Ernie had no intention of repeating it.
She took in a long, deep breath through her gritted teeth.
“It was a media disaster and not of her making. There wasn’t a thing wrong with her flying.
She set a world record, flying from Chicago to New York.
And it wasn’t her fault that your colleague’s male pride couldn’t handle the sting of a reporter saying she beat him in a race from Philadelphia to New York when it wasn’t even a race.
” Her fists twitched at her sides as if she were holding back from taking a swing at him.
He took a sip of his coffee and grinned. “I just broke Miss Stinson’s record.”
Her fists clenched even tighter. “So I heard.”
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
“I’m going to beat your record. That’s what I’m going to do. And I’m going to prove that women can fly every bit as well as men, if not better.”
Aha! He knew it! This was about taking him down a notch. Well, he wasn’t about to let her take his moment of triumph away from him.
She stepped forward so that they were toe to toe.
He didn’t budge. This was for her own good.
“While I have nothing against woman pilots, you have to admit you attract too much attention. It’s distracting and makes it hard for the rest of us to get our jobs done.
And I still say it’s too dangerous. Wind, fog, storms, snow—we fly regardless. Nothing stops the mail.”
“Oh, please.” Her face was far too close. My, she had pretty blue eyes. If she wasn’t such a preening show-off, he could have fallen hard for a girl like her. “This is all an excuse to get me out of the way. I am perfectly capable of flying in any weather you can fly in.”
“Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you’re up to the job.”
She looked like a balloon about to pop—bright red and inches from his nose. “My fame has nothing to do with this. And, as you well know, I already have the job. I’m here with Burleson’s blessing, and unless you want to defy the Postmaster General, you have to let me fly.”
Ernie had no comeback to that. Burleson’s word was law. This might have been a lark for her, but Ernie needed this job. Much as he hated it, she’d won, and they both knew it.
Surrendering, he plastered on an obligatory smile, stood aside, and gestured with his arm. “Allow me to escort you to your plane.” He wasn’t really going to make her fly the old wreck beside them, but maybe a bit of practical experience would convince her to back down.
Let’s see how she feels after freezing her nose off in an open cockpit for hours. Even in October, it was brutally cold at altitude.
He took her over to a Curtiss R-4. Millie looked over the biplane with a critical eye, walking around slowly, passing her hand over the propeller and dual wings checking for nicks, even opening the hood.
At long last, she seemed satisfied and looked over at him.
“At least you didn’t stick me with that old Jenny.
” She jerked her head toward the plane he showed her first.
“Oh? You’re too good to fly an old clunker like that?”
She gave him a withering look. “Spare me your disdain. All I ask is to be judged on my own merits as a pilot. And if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Burleson.”
As if he could magically forget that his career was on the line, that the Postmaster General himself was paying attention.
He’d never fly the mail again if he mucked this up.
Somehow, he was supposed to both keep her safe and get her to quit without her blaming him or the Postal Service.
That shouldn’t be complicated at all, should it?
Ernie squared his shoulders and attempted to look stern.
“Come here tomorrow at eight a.m. Pack a bag. We’re heading to DC, stopping in Philadelphia for the night, and we’ll be gone three days.
On the way out, you’ll follow me to learn the geography.
On the way back, I’ll follow you to make sure you’ve got it down.
Hopefully this time, there won’t be any press pretending it’s a race. ”
“There won’t be press,” she assured him. “No one knows I’m doing this yet except a few friends. I’m tired of show business, and I want to do something useful for once.”
That earned a rueful guffaw. Attention-seekers like her never got tired of the limelight. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Miss Aldrich.”
“Yes, you will.” She spun in a huff and marched off.
Ernie watched her go, slightly embarrassed to find himself appreciating the rear view. How he could have mistaken her for a man, he had no idea. That walk was unmistakably feminine. Just look at those swaying hips.
Drinking down the last of his coffee, he nearly choked on the dregs. He was in deep trouble and had no idea how to dig himself out.