Beatrice’s wedding day arrived bright and sunny. Though Christmas had passed, the ground remained bare. Darcy knew her friend had hoped for snow, but if Beattie was disappointed, she didn’t show it. The way the bride and groom looked at each other struck a chord of regret in Darcy. As the two spoke their vows before God and the congregation, she wondered what it would be like to have Jack standing beside her at the front of the church. How would it feel to have him slide a wedding band on her finger, to hear him promise before God to love and protect?
She bowed her head. That would never happen. Even if the impasse between them cleared, Jack had never mentioned a church home. He’d scoffed when she told him God led her to fly. A match with him was impossible in every way. So why did she still think about it?
The wedding dinner took place at the grange. The old hall had been transformed into a fairy-tale land, festooned with pine boughs, holly and mistletoe. Yards of white lace hung around every window and doorway, topped with the ribbon bows. Beatrice glowed in her ivory satin gown, overlaid with French batiste.
Darcy, on the other hand, had to endure George Carrman, who’d been paired with her at both the ceremony and reception. The poor man had bravely endured her family’s constant attempts to match him with Darcy. Bland and doughy, with a crop of brown curls, he simply didn’t suit her. No humble scholar for her. She preferred the adventurer.
After dinner, George led her onto the floor for the ceremonial dance. He proved a good dancer, but that didn’t make this any more comfortable. Of all the dances Beattie could have chosen, why did she pick a waltz? Darcy kept as much distance as possible.
“How are your journalistic endeavors faring?” he asked.
“Not well, I’m afraid, not since Buffalo. Did you see my article about the flight school in The Courier?”
“Ah, yes, Blake told me you’re learning to fly. I even looked into taking lessons myself.”
“You? When? How?” Darcy could hardly believe her article had worked. She hoped Jack had signed dozens of students, and the school was now profitable. Then she realized dozens of students meant Jack would spend more time with them and less with her. It wouldn’t be just the two of them anymore.
“I start in the spring,” George was saying. “I don’t intend to actually fly, but I wanted to learn the principles.”
Darcy scrunched her nose. “You’re not going to fly? Then why take lessons?” But she had a bad feeling she knew. He wanted to impress someone. A woman, most likely. A woman who wanted to fly. She changed the subject before he could answer. “Have you finished your studies?”
“I complete my internship next month, and then I’ll be able to write the license examinations.”
“Then you’ll start a practice?” Darcy would rather endure the boring details of medical education than hear whom George wanted to impress by taking flight lessons.
“No,” George said, sweeping her toward the corner. “I’ve decided to pursue research in polio. They’re close to finding the cause. I want to be in on it and make sure no one ever has to suffer again.” His passion surprised her. The cherubic face glowed with excitement, and for the first time she realized an intellect hid beneath the shy and pudgy exterior.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked. “Was someone in your family afflicted?”
“No, but I met someone.”
She could not believe the man was blushing. “You like her?”
He suddenly halted, and she nearly tripped over his feet.
“Why did you stop?” Then she noticed his attention was fixed on the doorway. She turned and caught her breath. A very familiar man stood in the entrance. Brown leather jacket. Sandy hair. Brilliant blue eyes.
Jack.
She stumbled toward him. He’d come back to her. He’d traveled all the way from Buffalo to see her.
She waved, but he didn’t see her. He kept scanning the crowd. She waved again, but he started walking toward the opposite corner. She wove through the dancing couples, struggling to reach him.
“Jack.” She stood just ten feet away. “Jack, I’m here.”
He must not have heard her, because he kept walking away, directly toward Hendrick Simmons.
One minute inside the grange hall, and Jack knew he shouldn’t have come. He’d spotted Darcy the moment he entered, and it had nearly undone him. She sparkled in her emerald-green gown and rhinestone-studded hairpins. The faraway look and flushed cheeks stole straight to his heart. Even though she danced with another man, he could see she wasn’t interested in him. Too much space. She was too eager to break away. The old attraction raged back full force.