Darcy had never quite thought about Jack not being there. In her mind, flying and Jack went hand in hand, but of course, he was correct. Once she received her license, she would leave the school and fly alone. That idea had lost a great deal of its appeal.
They’d reached the dreary classroom where she’d left her coat and bag. The lesson was over, but she didn’t want to leave.
“Come to supper,” she said impulsively. “It’s just my aunt and me, but we’d love to have the company.”
He looked leery. “I shouldn’t.”
“I promise not to mention the transatlantic attempt.”
Still he hesitated. “I’m not certain it’s proper.”
“My family always invited teachers to supper to thank them.”
“Then this is nothing more than professional gratitude?”
“Right.” Though it hurt to say so.
“I wouldn’t want anyone to think otherwise.” Yet, he hadn’t stopped looking at her. Just like that night in the alley.
Her mouth went dry. Her fingers tingled. She could barely breathe.
“I promise,” she whispered.
“In that case…” His voice drifted off.
She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him and feel his around her, but that would not only be far too forward, it was sure to fail. He’d made it clear she couldn’t rush him about anything. He needed to set the pace.
So she waited. And he stood silent, eyes locked with hers.
“Um-hum.” Someone cleared her throat.
Darcy jumped. Jack pretended to review the folder on his desk. It was Aunt Perpetua, dressed in black.
“Excuse the interruption.” Perpetua planted her cane on the concrete floor. “When no one answered the door, I came in, in search of my niece.”
Darcy inhaled deeply until her head cleared. “Why?”
Perpetua watched her carefully. “I just received a telephone call from your mother.”
“Mum placed a long-distance call? She never…” That was the problem. She never placed a long-distance telephone call. It must be serious.
“Your sister has taken a bad turn,” Perpetua said, “and the doctor ordered her to bed. Your mother needs your help with the children.”
But flying… And Jack. Darcy looked to him for support, but he agreed with Perpetua.
“Winter’s almost upon us. There’s not much more we can do before spring.”
“But what will you do?” He couldn’t survive with no students.
He waved off her concerns. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Go home to your family.”
“I know it’s a trial, child,” said Perpetua, “but Mr. Hunter is correct. Family comes first.”
Darcy’s thoughts tumbled. How, when she was so close to her dream, could it be snatched away? She thought God wanted her here. She thought this was His plan. If so, why call her away? And why did it have to be her sister?
Wasn’t this just like Amelia? If Darcy didn’t know better, she’d think Amelia had planned it. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop the rush of anger. Amelia had always managed to steal Darcy’s moment away. Darcy’s twelfth-birthday trip to Buffalo had to be postponed because of Amelia’s wedding. Her trip to San Francisco got changed to Chicago when Lizzie was born.
“When do I have to leave?” she asked, hoping for more time.
“I’ve packed your things and hired a cab. We can still get you to the station for the evening train. I realize this is a setback, but God always has His reasons, even if we can’t see them at the time.”
Darcy could see no reason. Charles could hire a housekeeper. His sister, Grace, could help. Why did it always fall to her? “But she’s not due until April.”
“I’m sorry, Darcy,” said Perpetua. “Your help is needed now.”
She had no choice. She had to go.
Darcy opened the heavy door for her aunt and took one last look back. Jack stood in the center of the hangar, hands in his pockets.
“I’ll be back in the spring,” she promised.
He nodded before walking back to the classroom.
She let the door swing closed.
Chapter Seven
The following weeks passed in a blur of routine. Darcy rose before sunup and walked the quarter mile to Amelia’s house where she cooked breakfast and dressed the children for school. She brought Amelia’s meals upstairs and received unwanted instruction on how to properly fulfill every housekeeping task. Though her sister ended these directives with thanks, Darcy could not shake her resentment.
After the children left for school, she tackled laundry and ironing and cleaning and baking. Though Amelia had a motorized washtub, Darcy still had to crank the wringer. Then the clothes had to be hung and taken down and pressed with the electric iron, which was more trouble than it was worth, since it tended to scorch collars and handkerchiefs.