Chapter 13
One room. How could there only be one room?
The snow outside was so thick, Ernie could barely see across the street.
He changed into a clean shirt. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would bump into someone he knew downstairs and would have some distraction for the evening.
There were usually two or three pilots hanging around.
Anything to avoid Millie with her soft curves and her smart mouth and her pink lips and her…
Shaking himself, he headed down to the dining room, scanning for familiar faces.
He could feel her presence in the far corner and avoided turning his gaze that way.
On the opposite side of the dining room, he spotted his friend, Jack.
Good. Jack would be able to occupy his attention and keep him from dwelling on things he shouldn’t.
“Jack, you old devil. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Ernie! Have a seat.” Jack gestured to the seat across from him. “Nice weather we’re having, eh?”
Ernie sat. “Perfect for a picnic, I’d say.”
Jack chuckled. “What do you think the odds are we’ll be grounded tomorrow? I myself wouldn’t mind an extra night of Bellefonte hospitality.”
“You know there’ll be hell to pay if we don’t make it off the ground.”
Jack made a dismissive motion with his hand. “I’m not letting some bureaucrat sitting cozy in his office tell me to fly into certain death. It’s a good job, but it’s not worth dying for.”
“Agreed.” A thought occurred to him. “Say, Jack, I don’t suppose you have an extra bed in your room I could sleep on?”
“Afraid not. I’m already sharing the room with Turk Bird. Why do you ask? Looks to me like you’ve got a room key in your hand there.”
Did Ernie dare explain his current predicament? No, there was too much at stake. Best not to speak, even to Jack.
“My room is drafty. I thought I’d see if there was a better option.”
Jack appeared to accept the explanation. “Is that Miss Aldrich I spy over there in the corner?”
Damn. Ernie hoped she’d go unnoticed. “It is. I’m showing her the route to Chicago. Mr. Dickson is hoping it’ll scare her away.”
“Not much chance of that, I’m guessing. She doesn’t seem like the sort that scares easy.”
No, she did not. Still, the flight to Cleveland might put the fear of God in her. If that didn’t do it, nothing would. “And I thought my sisters were bold. Millie Aldrich is unbelievable. I’ve never met a woman like her.”
“Speaking of your sisters, how are they?”
What Jack really wanted to know was how was Constance, but he thought Ernie hadn’t noticed the way he looked at his sister since his break-up with Myrtle.
Jack could look all he wanted as long as he didn’t do anything about it.
The last thing Ernie wanted for Constance was for her to fall for a pilot. And especially not Jack.
Constance thought Ernie didn’t know she was sweet on Jack when they were young, but he’d stolen her diary once and learned how heartbroken she was that his best friend didn’t notice her.
He’d wanted to find something juicy to tease her about, and he’d found it.
But reading her confessions just made him feel awful, so he put it back and never told.
And though he never let on that he knew, he’d kept an eye on those two ever since.
Jack Thompson was not going to break his sister’s heart.
“They’re doing well. Constance only has two more months of secretarial school, and she studies and practices nonstop.
Verity still wants to outdo Galileo with her astronomical discoveries, and Prudence hasn’t given up on her amateur Pinkerton nonsense.
I don’t know where my sisters got their outlandish ideas.
Must be from reading about women like Millie Aldrich. ”
Ernie hazarded a glance in Millie’s direction. Their gazes met for a moment, and he looked away quickly. He could feel the tug of her presence from all the way across the room. Even that brief glance caused a twitch in his nether regions.
Oh, the things he would like to do with Millie. He could almost feel the ghost of her nails as they dug into his back, the desperate clenching within her as he brought her to her peak. All that fire, all that feistiness, sublimated into passion.
She was a danger to his sanity and to be avoided at all costs.
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “Maybe it’s best for all of us if women learn to be independent. They wouldn’t need to be so calculating and mercenary about men if they had their own means of support. Maybe then they wouldn’t abandon us for the first rich man that crossed their path.”
Poor Jack. He still wasn’t over Myrtle. It had to hurt to lose his fiancée to a banker.
“Or maybe they wouldn’t need us at all. Maybe they would abandon the male sex completely.”
Jack laughed. “By that logic, men should have abandoned women because we don’t need them to support us. Have you given up women because you have a job?”
“Fair point.”
A waiter stopped by and took their orders. Ernie ordered his usual steak.
“Marriage should be about finding somebody to love,” said Jack.
“Instead, it’s become a cutthroat competition for a woman to find someone to wrap her in diamonds, and it’s disgusting.
Yes, I think we’d all be better off if women made their own money and didn’t evaluate us on the size of our bank accounts. ”
Ernie shook his head. He knew his friend had a particular ax to grind.
“I don’t mind a lady of independent means.
I respect working women. But I think certain professions aren’t suited to women, especially those that involve risking life and limb.
Women shouldn’t be soldiers or police officers, nor should they fly the mail.
I can’t stand to see them put themselves in danger like that.
It’s man’s nature to protect, and every bone in my body rebels against putting them in harm’s way. ”
“And yet tomorrow, you’ll be flying with Millie Aldrich over Hell’s Stretch in the worst weather I’ve seen yet during my time with the airmail.”
Indeed. And he hated it. The only way he could justify it to himself was by convincing himself it would get her to quit.
He could put her in danger once for the sake of saving her from years of future danger.
And he could mitigate that danger with his own flying, keeping her on track through the worst of it. “I’m dreading it.”
Ernie glanced over at her again, and she was absorbed in her dinner.
She looked so slight and vulnerable over there in her blue dress.
The thought of flying Hell’s Stretch with her in the morning filled him with almost as much dread as the prospect of sharing a room.
For all her fire, she was a mere wisp of a woman.
He couldn’t stand the thought of her coming to harm.
“But I’ll get her through safe. I won’t let anything happen to her,” Ernie said as their food arrived.
“I know,” said Jack before digging into his chicken pot pie.
For several minutes, they ate in silence.
The food warmed him and took away the last vestiges of chill from their flight in.
He understood why Bellefonte was a favorite stop for many of his fellow pilots.
The people were friendly and welcomed the airmail pilots like family.
The food was good, especially the pies. No one skipped dessert at the Brockerhoff.
Bellefonte wrapped you in a warm blanket after a long, cold journey from New York or Cleveland.
He chanced another glance at Millie. She appeared to be reading a book while she drank a cup of coffee. What would a woman like Millie read? Technical manuals? Romance novels? Adventure stories?
She looked up and caught him staring. His cheeks heated as he turned abruptly back to his steak.
“Is something going on between you two?” Jack was giving him a funny look.
Uh oh. He’d been too obvious.
“Between who?” Ernie asked, all innocence.
“You and Miss Aldrich.”
“No. Nothing at all. Why do you ask?” He was grinning too widely, wasn’t he? Something was wrong with his face.
Jack was still staring at him with wide eyes. “You keep looking over at her and turning red. Something is going on.”
Ernie cleared his throat. “No. Nothing. We can’t stand each other, actually.”
“Maybe that was true when you met, but not anymore. There is definitely something brewing between you two.”
“There’s nothing going on, I swear.”
Jack put down his fork. “I don’t believe you. You think you can fool me? I’ve known you since we were both in diapers. Those looks you’re giving her mean something.”
Was Ernie so transparent? “Can you drop it, Jack? I don’t have anything to say about Millie Aldrich.”
Shifting back, Jack crossed his arms. “Is Mr. Dickson the reason you’re not telling me? You know I won’t say a word to Mr. Dickson or anyone else for that matter. I’m not O’Donnell, for heaven’s sake.”
No, he wasn’t O’Donnell. Ernie had no particular reason to mistrust Jack other than general embarrassment. And he needed to unburden himself to someone. “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you.”
And so, he did. He told Jack about the study session and the kiss. He strategically left out the current room predicament. He trusted Jack, but there were limits.
“So you kissed her. And then what?”
“And then what? She ran away. That’s what. And now we’re barely on speaking terms.”
“Sounds very awkward.”
“Yes, thanks. It is.” Really, did Jack have to point out the obvious?
“So what are you going to do about Millie?”
“I have no idea. She’s ruined me for anyone else, but if I want to keep my job, I have to keep my distance and somehow get her to quit. I guess I’ll do my best and pray that this madness passes.”
A smile curled one side of Jack’s lips. “Good luck, my friend. You seem like a man who needs pie.” He flagged down the waiter. “Two pieces of apple caramel a la mode.”
In the absence of liquor, pie would have to do. Could one drown oneself in pie? Ernie was damned well going to try. But he also wouldn’t have minded something stiffer.
“I don’t suppose you have a little something to splash in my coffee, do you? I could use a drink.”
Jack grinned at him. “It just so happens I have a flask of whiskey with me.” He looked around surreptitiously to make sure no one was looking, then he poured a splash into each of their coffee cups. “Cheers,” he said, holding up his cup.
“Cheers,” Ernie answered, downing his cup in one go. “Ah. That’s better.”
“Agreed.”
Their pie arrived. As expected, it failed to solve any of his problems, but he scarfed it down like a starving man, nonetheless.
“I should get going,” Ernie said after the last bite. He pulled out his billfold and left a few bills on the table.
“Good luck,” said Jack.
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
Heading to the front desk, he caught Mr. Dunston’s eye. “Any luck finding another room?”
Mr. Dunston shook his head. “I’m sorry. I tried calling around but haven’t had any luck yet. Plenty of folks are already snowed in from the storm, but I’ll keep trying, Mr. Pritchard.”
No room. No escape. A snowstorm that was probably going to ground him tomorrow. How could this day possibly get worse?