She finished typing the first article the following weekend and brought it with her Monday morning. Jack would be pleased. She had painted the school in a very positive light.
With Pohlman gone, Jack was now in charge of the school. She entered the building, expecting things to look livelier, but the hangar was dark and deathly quiet.
“Jack?” The word echoed off the cold brick walls.
He didn’t answer, so she searched until she found him in the classroom. He stood at the front reading a piece of paper. He didn’t look pleased.
Darcy hesitated. “Is something wrong?”
He glanced up. “Oh. Darcy. No, nothing.” He shoved the paper into a folder on the battered oak desk. “Today we’ll cover the preflight check. We’re a bit out of order, due to the weather.”
She held out her article. “Could you read this first and tell me if there’s anything I should add or subtract?”
“What is it?”
“My story on the flight school. If it meets your approval, I’ll take it to The Courier tomorrow. They’ve already promised to print it.”
“The Buffalo paper? I thought you were writing for that Pearlman paper.”
She shook her head. “Mr. Devlin wasn’t interested.”
“His loss.”
Those two little words warmed her through and through. Jack believed in her.
While he read, Darcy took off her coat and tidied the room. Apparently, Pohlman had not been a stickler for neatness. The tables could use a good scrubbing. A hundred greasy hands had left black fingerprints on the light gray paint.
“That’s good.” Jack tapped the article. “Very good. Other than noting our hours of operation, I can’t think of a thing to add.”
Darcy was relieved to see him smile. He’d looked so worried when she first saw him that she wondered again if he was ill. That paper could have been a report from his doctor.
“Yep, this is just the thing to bring in new students.” His grin melted her fear. “I tell you Darcy, we make a great team.”
She could hardly believe it. He not only loved the article, he enjoyed working with her. “Then you accept that women can fly?”
“Whoa, don’t go that far. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t teach women, but I might not have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
He opened the folder. “Seems the other students aren’t as dedicated as you. I’ve had two cancellations and one postponement. I suppose I should have expected that, with winter setting in.”
So that was all. Darcy could barely hide her relief. “I thought it was something serious.”
“It is serious. I can’t live all winter on one student’s tuition.”
She gasped. “Don’t you get paid?”
“That’s not your concern.” He slapped the folder shut. “Your task is to learn to fly.”
“I can rewrite the article to say that classroom work begins in the winter with flight training in the spring. That allows for certification by summer and gives the adventurous flyer the entire season in the air.” She finished with a flourish, trying to draw a smile from Jack.
She got only a shake of the head. “You’re not really going to write that. It sounds like an advertisement.”
“So it is. We’re selling the public on the glorious sport of aviation. You know it’s wonderful. I know it’s wonderful. We only need to tell the world, and they’ll come flocking to learn.”
“The world?” he said wryly. “I wish I had your optimism.”
“Why not? Who would have thought three months ago that I’d be flying an aeroplane, but here I am. Believe it and it will happen.”
He shook his head. “All right, Miss Optimism. It’s time to do some work. We’ll begin by examining every wire and screw on the plane.”
“Every one? There must be hundreds.”
“Every one. If it was good enough for your heroine, Miss Quimby, it’s good enough for you.”
They spent the next four hours in the cold hangar, checking every inch of the plane. Darcy suspected Jack had deliberately loosened several screws and stays to see if she found them. When she did, she then had to tighten them properly. Jack demanded perfection when it came to planes. She suspected he demanded the same of himself, at least when he was flying. For a second she remembered his visit to Vanesia Lawrence’s saloon, but thank goodness she’d seen no indication of drink since.
“Did I pass?” she asked when finished.
Jack jumped off the wing. “The only way to know for certain is to survive the flight. No one’s going to take care of a plane the way you do. It’s your life. Never forget that, and you’ll live a lot longer.”
“You’re just trying to scare me.” At least she hoped he was. He was certainly succeeding. She checked a couple of stays again.
“I’m spelling out facts. Flying is dangerous. So far you’ve had me along, but that won’t always be the case.”