Chapter 8
Millie perused her closet, trying to decide which dress was the most somber.
She didn’t want Ernie getting any ideas.
This was a study session, not a date, even if they were planning to spend hours together in a tête-à-tête.
She’d keep everything strictly professional, and if she played her cards right, she’d be able to set him straight about Vera too.
Her calf-length navy blue dress with half sleeves and a bateau neckline would do nicely.
It was all business. There was no mistaking this dress for something flirtatious.
“That dress makes you look like a military commander,” Beth said when Millie emerged from her room. “Are you sure that’s what you want for a date?”
“It’s not a date.”
“So you’ve told me. But you aren’t fooling me for a minute with your ‘study session.’”
Millie narrowed her eyes at Beth.
“At least let me do your hair,” Beth said. “You can’t be seen in public with it like that.”
She patted her messy bun with wisps falling out and sighed.
“All right. You can do my hair.”
Half an hour later, her hair was sculpted into a finger wave and gathered elegantly at the nape of her neck. Beth finished it off with a blue, beaded ribbon, which Millie took off. It was too flirtatious for sitting and looking at maps.
Was the hairdo too much? It would have to do because it was time to head out. Putting on a coat, she hurried out to her roadster.
The drive and ferry ride passed quickly as she mulled over speeches to give to Ernie about his treatment of poor Vera.
Before she knew it, she was pulling into the dirt lot at Heller Airport.
Ernie’s Model T was already parked there.
He’d beat her there, a fact that shouldn’t have irked her nearly as much as it did.
She made her way to the map room, ready to give him a piece of her mind. As she pulled open the door, she glanced around the small, cozy space with floor-to-ceiling cubbies of maps and papers, seeking out the object of her ire.
Ernie looked up from the pile of maps he’d assembled on the round table at the center of the room, a lock of too-long blond hair falling in front of his impish brown eyes.
His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms and swallow tattoo.
The effect raised the temperature by several degrees, which she was determined to ignore.
She cleared her throat. “Pritchard.”
His lazy smile and annoyingly charming dimples made her stomach somersault. “Miss Aldrich.”
“Just call me Aldrich. You call everyone else by their last names.” And she wanted to be treated like everyone else on the team. She’d never much liked being called “Miss.” It suggested someone prim, proper and coquettish—in other words, someone totally unlike her.
“Sure thing, Aldrich.” He straightened with a flirtatious grin that made her want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.
Hang on a moment. Kiss him?
“Err…tell me about the maps,” she said like an idiot.
All her rehearsed speeches about Vera abandoned her as she grappled with the unwelcome tug of Ernie’s smile.
No wonder Vera fell for him. “And after that, we’re going to have a little chat about Vera.
” After she collected herself a bit and remembered all the scathing things she had to say.
“Whatever you say, Aldrich,” he teased.
God, she liked her last name on his lips a little too much. It was a good thing he was taken and out of her reach.
“But you should know I broke up with Vera after our date.”
Did he just say…? “You broke up with Vera?” Her voice was too high-pitched for her liking. She cleared her throat and lowered it. “Why did you go and do that? I had a whole speech rehearsed about how you should do right by her and settle down.”
She wanted to be angry at him. She wanted to rage and lecture and put him in his place, but one thought obliterated all the others. Ernie is single.
“It wouldn’t have been fair to lead her on. I didn’t feel the same way she did.” He stood straight and cocked his head, challenge written in his eyes.
He didn’t feel the same way she did. Why did that send Millie’s heart soaring?
She was supposed to be furious on Vera’s behalf.
No possible good could come from mooning over Ernie.
Even if he wasn’t a complete cad, there was Mr. Burleson’s order not to fraternize.
He was off limits, and that was the end of it.
“Fine,” she said, shoving away unwanted thoughts.
“Fine?” Ernie looked at her like she’d grown another head.
“Yes, fine. I’m letting it drop so that we can focus on what we’re supposed to be doing here. Show me the maps.” It was a transparent diversion, but she hoped that if she looked stern enough, she could pull it off.
Ernie chewed his lip as he stared at her for a long moment. She met his gaze and held it, silently daring him to question her, even though it sent warmth coiling in places she didn’t want it.
At last, he shrugged and pointed down at one of the maps. “Here’s our route from Heller to Chicago. I’ll walk you through it step by step and tell you all the things you won’t find on the map. Do you have a notepad?”
Did she? Checking her purse, she came up empty-handed. Damn it all! How could she forget her notepad?
Ernie smirked. “Don’t worry. See that cubby over there?” He pointed to the far wall. “We’ve got notepads to spare, and the pencils are in the cubby below.”
She narrowed her eyes at him before turning to gather her supplies.
The cubbies were low, and she had to bend down to get what she needed.
When she turned back around, she caught him looking at her for a split second before he turned his gaze to the ceiling, a faint flush creeping up his neck.
If ever she needed proof that he was a cad…
“Eyes here, Pritchard.” She pointed at the map on the table. “We have work to do.”
Ernie cleared his throat and looked down at the map. “Right. Well, this is Heller right here.” He pointed to a tiny, hand-drawn star on the map. “The first leg of the journey is from here to Bellefonte.”
Ernie launched into a detailed description of the route, noting every landmark they would pass.
For the most part, they would be following rail lines, but for some stretches, they would follow roads instead, and once they were in the foothills of the Alleghenies, there would be no place to land until Bellefonte.
This would be a good test of her navigation and distance-flying skills, which weren’t nearly as well-honed as her barnstorming tricks.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ernie asked as she puzzled over the winding path they would need to take once they reached the foothills. “I know you’re a damned good pilot, but this is a very different set of challenges than you’re used to.”
He wasn’t wrong, and his compliment made her giddier than it should have. But it irritated her that he was trying to dissuade her. “Yes, I’m sure. This should be a piece of cake. Are you worried that I’ll show you up by getting there first?”
“Only if you want to crash into a mountain. There’s no way you could navigate to Bellefonte on your own without following my lead.”
Common sense said he was right, but she didn’t want to concede the point. “I bet I could. After all, somebody had to fly that route for the first time and map it out, so it is possible. If they could do it without a map, I could do it with one.”
It would have been unwise in the extreme for her to attempt to take the lead rather than following Ernie, but the thought of letting him win this argument made her teeth clench.
He leveled a warning look at her. “This isn’t a game, Aldrich.
I know we don’t like each other, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you die.
Mistakes cost lives. And I’ve been to enough funerals to last a lifetime.
” All mischief was gone from his face. His playboy pilot mask had dropped, and grief over lost friends was written in every feature.
He was right, of course. She shouldn’t have even been joking about going rogue. It was heartless, given how much loss he and the other men in the airmail had endured. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave.”
At some point soon, she would need to strike out on her own and beat his record but not on her first time flying the route. She needed to know the lay of the land if she wanted to fulfill her deal with Mr. Burleson. But the clock was ticking.
“Good.” Ernie sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, a frown fixed on his usually cheerful face.
“Is this the route you took when you broke the record?” Maybe it would cheer him up to talk about his success. Also, it would be helpful to glean any secrets she could about how he made that flight.
He raised an eyebrow. “Trying to figure out how to one-up me, Aldrich?”
“Always.” She grinned, making the mistake of meeting his gaze again. God, he was obnoxiously handsome.
He sat back and smiled, more than a little heat in his gaze, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “What would you do if you beat me?”
Grab you by the lapels and kiss you into submission, then climb on top of you and ride you into the stratosphere.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Thinking of Ernie that way would only lead to madness.
If he was getting under her skin, it was only because she was readjusting to celibacy after Barney.
She’d get used to it in time. After all, she’d been perfectly happy in her solitude before Barney came along.
She just needed to focus on her friends and what it would mean to them if she succeeded and opened the airmail to lady pilots. Ernie was off limits.
“I’d go out and celebrate with Katherine and Gertie,” she said at last.
“Right. Your aviatrix friends who think I’m arrogant.” He grinned like it was a compliment.
“They aren’t wrong. You are insufferable.”
“True, but I’m also charming.”
A little too charming. “No, you’re not.”
He shook his head. “Lie all you like, Aldrich. It doesn’t change the fact that you think I’m handsome.”
“Damnit! I was really hoping you didn’t overhear that.” Deep down she knew he had, but she’d wanted so badly to be wrong. “Don’t go reading anything into it. You may have a pretty face, but I judge a man by his actions, not his appearance.”
“Admit it, you can’t resist me.” His smoldering gaze and mischievous grin made her want to throw things at him…or climb over the table and pounce on him. “Aww. Look at that blush. You definitely like me, Aldrich. You just can’t help yourself.”
Enough was enough. “Quit it, Prichard, or you’re going to get us both fired.” She glanced at the door. Mr. Dickson could walk in at any time, as could any of the pilots. It was a minor miracle that they’d had the room to themselves for so long.
“All right. All right. I was just teasing.” He sat back and put his hands up. “I promise never to mention your little schoolgirl crush on me again if you don’t.”
“I don’t have a—” She shut her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I?”
There was no good answer, and her face was so hot that she had to fan herself.
“For the love of God, Pritchard, knock it off.” She needed to get away from him, and fast. “I’m going to the breakroom for a drink of water.
When I get back, we’re going over the route from Bellefonte to Chicago. Got it?”
Rising without meeting his gaze, she turned and fled the room. Instead of heading for the breakroom, she went to the washroom and locked herself in. Turning on the faucet, she splashed water on her face.
Goddammit. She could not let Pritchard get under her skin like that!
If she was being honest with herself, she did have a stupid, schoolgirl crush.
He made her pulse race faster than an airplane engine, and it was totally unacceptable.
She couldn’t afford to be attracted to Ernie for so many reasons.
First and foremost, the future of women pilots for the airmail, and possibly of the entire airmail operation, depended on keeping her distance.
As much as Mr. Burleson needed her, she knew he would throw her out in a hot minute if she broke his rules, ruining women’s chances of flying the mail for years to come.
Second, she had sworn off men after things went south with Barney, and she had no desire to entertain an attraction to anyone, least of all Ernie.
Third, he was the most insufferable, irritating, arrogant cad she’d ever met, and he was not worth her time.
Drying her face with a towel, she breathed deeply. She could do this. Now that she’d calmed herself, she could get some water, go back into that map room, and finish learning the route. After all, she was a professional, and she had no intention of letting him wind her up like that ever again.