Soaring Home

“Sounds workable,” Jack said, “though I’d rather not teach women. Unless her husband approves, that is.”


“You are so old-fashioned. Even the boss taught the gals.”

Though Jack knew G.H. Curtiss had taught women, he held his tongue. Once Pohlman left, he couldn’t tell him what to do. “There’s just the one, right?”

“One who’s already paid.”

“In full?” No one paid the whole fee in advance.

“In full. You’ll be living off that this winter, so you might want to reconsider.”

Jack set down the unpalatable coffee, his stomach soured.

“In fact, she might still be around here.” Pohlman motioned for Jack to follow. “Wanted to write a story about the school for the local paper. I told her to go ahead. It’ll be good publicity.”

Jack was getting a very bad feeling. “I don’t suppose she has dark hair and a pushy attitude.”

“Don’t know about the attitude, but you’re dead on with the hair coloring.”

They’d reached the hangar.

“Miss Shea?” Pohlman called out.

Impossible. For seven weeks he’d tried to forget the woman.

“Yes?” She rounded the fuselage of the trainer, and the moment she saw Jack, she fumbled her notepad and lost her pencil. It clattered to the concrete floor.

Jack couldn’t seem to move. He wanted to run to her and sweep her into his arms, but Pohlman was watching. Jack ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe what he was seeing. Darcy. The fine ankles. The dark eyes that sparkled with life.

Every nerve ending sizzled. The propeller could have cut off Jack’s arm and he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Ja-ack,” she said with the slightest hitch.

That little break in her voice brought sense rushing back. She was vulnerable. She didn’t belong in a plane. His ears rang. His stomach churned. What had he gotten himself into?

He had to teach Darcy Shea to fly.





Chapter Five




“You two know each other?” Pohlman asked.

“We’ve met.” Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her. The thick, dark hair. The curve of her jaw. The stark, almost masculine dress that managed to make her look more feminine. He drew in a ragged breath as she stooped to pick up the pencil.

“Allow me.” He touched the pencil first, and her fingertips grazed his. He handed it to her.

“Thank you.” She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, as if she were shy.

Shy! Jack could safely assume that term had never been applied to Darcy Shea.

“Then you won’t have any problem teaching her,” Pohlman said.

Jack glared. “I certainly do.”

“He’s already given me a plane ride,” Darcy offered.

She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that.

“He did?” Pohlman chuckled. “Seems our Jack has dual standards.”

“Is that anything like dual controls?”

Pohlman laughed at her joke, which only irritated Jack more.

“Flying is dangerous,” Jack insisted. “I’ve seen students lose nerve and crash.”

She set her jaw. “I have strong nerves.”

True, she’d been eager to continue after his attempt to frighten her. He tried again. “A student needs a fearless disposition.”

“That’s me.”

“Along with an even temperament.” He had her there.

She cocked her head. “You don’t think I can keep my head, do you? Well, I’ve grown a bit since you last saw me, Jack Hunter. Trust me, I can keep my head.”

“I recall you screaming in terror.”

She crossed her arms. “I might have screamed, but it wasn’t in terror. Even if I had, no one would blame me. You put the plane into a spin.”

“A spin?” Pohlman said. “That would frighten anyone, me included.”

Jack knew he would ultimately lose this argument, at least with Pohlman, but Darcy wasn’t an ordinary student. She was a woman, and, well, she was Darcy. Her father would have his head if something happened to her.

He lobbed that bomb. “Does your father know you’re doing this?”

“Of course.”

Jack didn’t believe that for a minute. “And he approves?”

“He agreed.” She tapped her toe impatiently. “Are we going to begin or not?”

“Now?” Jack wasn’t certain he was officially hired. He certainly wasn’t ready to teach her.

“No time like the present.”

Jack looked to Pohlman, who struggled to suppress a grin.

“Go to it, old chum. It’ll give me an opportunity to assess your abilities.”

Pohlman had to be joking. “I’ve been teaching for years. More than two hundred recruits passed my course.”

Pohlman clucked his tongue. “But no women.”

“Last I checked, there are no women in the military.” Jack looked to Darcy. “Though I suppose you’d like to see them there.”

“If they want to join, why not?”

He had to be attracted to a feminist.

She tucked the pencil behind her ear in a very alluring way. “So where do we start?”

Jack stalled. “Ordinarily, I begin by having the student disassemble and reassemble the motor.”