Chapter 12
Millie didn’t like the look of those skies one bit.
If she had been preparing for a show, she’d have cancelled.
But they were already in the air over the Alleghenies, and there was no choice but to continue.
The puffy cotton-ball clouds gave way to storm clouds, and she began to hit pockets of low pressure that jolted the plane.
Keeping Ernie’s plane in sight in front of her, she flew toward the brewing storm.
Meanwhile, she attempted to keep track of any hint of a landmark on the monotonous rolling foothills of the Alleghenies.
A stretch of road here, and oddly shaped farmer’s field there, electrical wires over there…
She would have to fly back over this terrain without losing her bearings, and she couldn’t afford to miss a single detail.
Fortunately, the notes in her trusty notebook hadn’t let her down.
Ernie had been an excellent teacher, loathe though she was to allow him in her thoughts at all.
The cold bit into her as she flew. She wrapped her cashmere scarf around her face, over her nose, so that none of her skin was exposed to the freezing air.
Even with all her fur and leather and her thick wool undergarments, she could not keep warm.
If only she’d stuck with barnstorming, she wouldn’t be subjecting herself to these discomforts.
But no, she had to push further and harder, break precedents and records.
Millie Aldrich was never content and complacent. She always had to push the limits.
Somehow, she had to be worthy of her own success.
Growing up with so little, her current circumstances were embarrassingly comfortable.
How could she justify having so much when others had so little?
The best way she could think of was to fight for women’s rights and make sure they had a chance to fly the mail the same as any man.
She owed it to her sisters in the skies.
After things went south with Barney, she threw herself back into her performances, but the press was brutal.
When are you going to stop performing and focus on finding someone to settle down with like a real woman?
more than one reporter asked. That was the end of her barnstorming.
Her aerial acrobatics hadn’t earned respect.
She had to try something bolder and more meaningful.
Not marriage. Why would she want it? The only reason she’d agreed to it with Barney was that he promised her a life of adventure. He wanted to travel all over the world with her, or so he said. And he was fun in bed. If only he didn’t have a wandering eye.
Bastard.
Well, she would show him and all the other men too.
A woman could support herself and push boundaries every bit as well as a man, given the chance.
She didn’t need a man in her life. She could fly the mail and stand on her own two feet.
And when she’d mastered distance flying, she’d go about setting some records, just like Katherine Stinson.
The world of aviation was brand new, and the possibilities were endless.
Anyone with the right skills and enough gumption could set a new distance record.
There were so many places that airplanes hadn’t even been yet.
A fierce jolt brought her back from her reverie.
Storm clouds roiled before her. A bolt of lightning lit the sky.
A light powder of snow began to fall. Her hands were glued to the stick as she tried to ride out the turbulence as best she could.
She knew the more she fought it, the worse her airplane would handle.
She had to let the airplane be tossed like a leaf in the wind, as long as she maintained her direction and speed.
Ernie was faring no better. His plane bucked and plunged in front of her, keeping as steady of a course as possible toward their destination. They had to be close by now. She checked her fuel levels. They were low but still adequate to put down, provided they could find the runway in this weather.
The landscape blurred as the snow flurries grew stronger. She could still see Ernie’s plane just ahead, but it was growing fuzzier by the minute. They had to set down.
Please let Bellefonte be close. Please, please, please.
Following Ernie down as low as she dared, she spotted a blessed strip of road. Careful to stay high enough not to clip any power or telephone lines, she and Ernie followed that road until Thank God! The town came into view.
She circled as she watched him come in for a landing. It wasn’t pretty. The wind and turbulence had him wobbling until his wheels touched down, but he made it in one piece.
As soon as he was safely in the hangar, she made her own approach.
A thin dusting of snow carpeted the runway.
It blew in swirls and eddies as she made her final approach.
The wind buffeted and tried to knock her off course, but she fought to keep the plane level.
The ground approached. The moment of truth.
One wheel touched down and then the other.
Then a gust lifted her back up a few feet.
Her hands like claws on the controls, she touched down again, and this time she stayed and rolled to a bumpy halt.
She was safe.
Prying her frozen fingers from the controls, she flexed them to regain movement before taxiing over to the hangar.
Ernie was there to meet her as she stepped down from the plane. She hoped he didn’t notice the way her knees were wobbling.
“A bit of a bumpy ride there, eh?”
That was an understatement. She gave him a “go away” glare.
“Of course, you had it well in hand the whole way, didn’t you, Aldrich?”
“Of course.” She stripped off her gloves and rubbed her hands together to return circulation. Then she slid her wet goggles up onto her head. Snow filled each crevice in her attire and stuck to her scarf, making it wet.
“Let’s head to the Brockerhoff Hotel and warm up, shall we?”
Her nostrils flared. “I am not spending my evening with you.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have much choice. This is a small town. The Brockerhoff is the only place to go.”
Ugh. This was why she hated small towns. There was no privacy whatsoever. She much preferred the anonymity of a big city.
“Fine.” She grabbed her ditty bag and followed him through the snow, which only seemed to be getting heavier.
“Isn’t it early in the year for a snowstorm?” she asked.
Ernie shrugged. “I’ve seen October storms before. It happens. Might make things dicey tomorrow, though. I don’t like the thought of flying Hell’s Stretch in this weather.”
She was grateful that her scarf hid her gulp. Flying terrain like that in the current weather sounded like suicide. Surely, they would be grounded if the storm continued. They couldn’t be expected to fly during a snowstorm, could they? But she stayed silent.
After shedding their leather suits in the locker room, they shuffled over to the warm and welcoming Brockerhoff Hotel.
It was larger than she expected—four stories tall with an imposing slate mansard roof.
As they walked through the lobby, delicious smells wafted from the restaurant. Good. She was starving.
The surroundings were a touch more elegant than she was expecting, and she suddenly felt embarrassed about how rumpled and ridiculous she must look. The man at the front desk didn’t blink an eye, though.
“Two rooms, please, Mr. Dunston.” Clearly, Ernie had been here enough to know the staff by name.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Pritchard. The hotel is booked up because of the harvest festival this weekend. We only have one room available. It has two twin beds. Surely, you and your colleague can share.”
Oh, no. Mr. Dunston must think I’m a man. After all, she was wrapped up head to toe and was wearing trousers.
She took off her hat and goggles and pushed down her scarf. Mr. Dunston’s eyes went wide. “I’m afraid one room simply won’t do.”
“And I’m equally sorry that it’s all we have to offer.”
Attempting to keep calm, she turned to Ernie. “Are there any other hotels here in town?”
He looked as shocked as she felt. “I wish there were.”
“I can ask around to see if someone in town will put one of you up at their house,” Mr. Dunston offered.
“I would be very grateful,” Millie said, relief flooding through her.
“In the meantime, I’ll take that room if you please,” said Ernie, then turned to her. “One of us needs to take it, and until we have another solution, at least it gives us a place to put down our things and get changed.”
She nodded. It was sensible. Better one room than nothing.
Mr. Dunston handed Ernie the key.
“Thanks, Mr. Dunston. Aldrich, why don’t you go up first. I’ll grab myself a nice hot cup of coffee while you change.”
Ernie handed the key to Millie. Their fingers brushed, and warmth tingled through her that had nothing to do with blood flow returning to her extremities. She walked as quickly as decorum would allow over to the stairs.
What a relief it was when the door closed behind her, and she was out of Ernie’s presence. Climbing to the third floor, she tried not to panic. One room. There had to be another option. Surely, someone had an extra room where one of them could stay for the night.
She made her way to number 316 and opened it up to find a charming space, painted in cream with dark wood furniture and accents.
Sunny yellow curtains hung at the window, and matching bedspreads covered the two beds, which were practically buried in pillows.
Walking over to the window, she looked out at the swirling snow and the picturesque town, her stomach twisted in knots.
This weather was no good. Nor was this room situation.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that warm, delicious food awaited downstairs. All she had to do was change her clothes.
Shedding her coat, hat, and scarf, she hung them up in the spacious wardrobe.
Then she looked through her ditty bag and pulled out a serviceable light blue dress.
It was a bit rumpled from being rolled up in her bag, but it couldn’t be helped.
She put a dark blue wool cardigan on over it, needing an extra layer despite the warmth of the hotel.
Wrangling her hair into a loose, low bun, she looked at herself in the mirror.
Beth would never approve her rumpled appearance, but Beth wasn’t in Bellefonte.
Besides, there was no one here she was looking to impress.
Heading downstairs, she spotted Ernie across the dining room, sipping a cup of coffee as he read the paper. A lock of blond hair fell into his face, and she had an overwhelming urge to tuck it away.
Her cheeks heated as she stopped in front of him at his table and put down the key. No need to risk another touch.
“Care to join me for a cup of coffee?” he asked, as if she would ever contemplate sitting at the same table as him again.
“No, thank you. I’m only handing off the key.”
“Shall I join you for dinner when I come back down?”
No. Absolutely not. “I think it’s best if we keep our distance.”
“As you wish.”
He picked up the key and headed off. She flagged down a waiter and was soon seated at the opposite end of the room. The least she could do was stay away from him for the evening. After that… She’d figure that out later.