Chapter 13 #2
He turned to the reporters and ground out, “I am grateful to Mrs. Barnes and the other women for bringing this matter to light. Public safety is, of course, my primary concern.”
The pens scribbled away.
“So . . . are they going to Yuma?” someone asked.
Mack’s hand fisted around the petition, and it crumpled loudly in his grip. “It’s not my decision,” he finally spit out.
Pancho supplied helpfully, “Horace Aldridge is the man who can overturn Dr. Ayers’s decision.”
“Yes, that’s a fact.” Mack latched on to the bone she’d thrown his way. “Aldridge is in Cleveland. However, it’s already midnight here, and it’s even later back East. Nobody has had any success contacting Horace; hence we shall have to proceed as Dr. Ayers has decided.”
Mack sent Pancho an arch look that made it clear he thought he’d won the day.
Not while I have breath in my body.
Pancho looked out at the reporters. “Who knows someone in Cleveland? Let’s make a phone call and get someone in Cleveland over to Aldridge’s house to knock on the man’s door.”
“Are you insane?” Mack demanded angrily. “It’s the middle of the night.”
Pancho smiled back at him and asked sweetly, “So, you’d rather let us ladies die, and let many citizens of the fine city of Calexico die as well, rather than wake up one race official and ask him to do his job?”
The press ate up her words. Cameras flashed. Pancho heard pens scratching as the members of the press wrote down her words. She had to admit, it was quite the quotable quote.
“I know someone in Cleveland,” a reporter called out. “I’ll make the call.” He took off running for the ballroom door. “And then I’m scooping all of you and getting my story filed first!”
The entire pack of reporters took off running at that. There were only a few public phones inside the hotel, and it was a race to see who got to them first.
The ballroom emptied as abruptly as it had filled. “I do believe we’re going to get Horace Aldridge to weigh in on our petition after all,” Pancho commented to Mack.
“You haven’t heard the last of this,” he growled at her.
“Neither have you. We are pilots. And we refuse to be silenced. Not by you. Not by anyone. This derby is going to show the whole world that we can fly just as well as any man.”
The reporter who raced for the phones first stuck his head back inside the ballroom and called out, “My guy’s driving over to wake up Horace Aldridge!”
The women exclaimed in victory . . . and relief.
“You’ll pay now,” Mack gloated. With the members of the press gone, he snarled, “Horace won’t give in any more than Ayers did or than I will. The lot of you will fall into line or be thrown out of the race.”
Marvel leaned in close to whisper to Pancho, “What if Aldridge does side with Ayers?”
“Then we’ll wake up Cliff Henderson,” Pancho declared bravely.
But she knew full well that all the spirit and determination in the world wouldn’t help if the men banded together against them. The next half hour crawled by slowly enough to make her grind her teeth.
Waiting on someone else’s whims always drove her past the limit of her patience. She spent the whole time battling an impulse to give the smirking mayor a good piece of her mind.
But this race wasn’t just about her.
It was about so much more . . .
The other pilots were looking to her to lead them. Just like the stunt pilots in Hollywood had. They’d wanted her to do what they’d never dared to do before. The stunt pilots had wanted her to step over the lines they were imprisoned by. And she’d done it.
Not one step along the way had been easy.
Leadership rested heavily on her shoulders tonight. She didn’t crave the spotlight and, indeed, had little need for it. But who was going to challenge men like Ayers if she didn’t? She had privilege and immense wealth to back her up.
Her husband popped into her mind for a moment.
Rankin could make trouble for her, loads of it.
Particularly if he went after control of her fortune.
The law would surely favor him as her husband.
Her lawyers could argue until they were blue in the face that she was of sound mind and fully capable of managing the inheritance her grandparents had left to her.
But if the judge was of a traditional mindset, she had no way of winning.
What appalled her more than any amount of money, though, was the stark reality that Rankin could keep her from seeing William.
Her heart ached at the prospect, and fear rattled through her—
Stop. You don’t have time for that right now. The problem of her husband would have to wait until after the derby. Still, it took a moment to shove her concern aside because Rankin had a nice big window of opportunity while she was focused on the race.
In front of her, the press started streaming back across the ballroom toward them.
Someone called to the women, “Mr. Aldridge is calling Dr. Ayers!”
Mack sniffed and headed toward the guarded entrance to the gentlemen’s lounge, his head held high. Two more men had joined the first two flanking the door. Pancho squared her shoulders and started toward them.
“Ladies don’t brawl,” Marvel muttered urgently.
Pancho retorted, “I won’t let anyone hobble me with hair ribbons or pots and pans. My intention is to break down whatever barriers they put in front of me and my fellow aviators.”
Marvel leaned in to whisper, “Let’s just see if we caught anything with honey first. Okay?”
“We shouldn’t have to use honey when it comes to safety,” Pancho muttered back, disgruntled.
She shared a look with Marvel. One that hit Pancho deep because she saw the frustration in Marvel’s eyes. They were in this together.
Marvel said warmly, “If I have to face this battle, I sure am glad to have you at my side, Pancho. You make me feel as if I’m not alone in wanting to live my life any way I want to.”
“You’re not alone, Marvel. You have me and all the other gals. We’ve got your back. And now that we’ve all gotten to know each other because of this race, we’ll always have one another’s backs.”