Jack followed Carrman downstairs. The doctor had stood guard at Darcy’s bedside, preventing Jack from telling her that he was sorry and would never hurt her again.
Darcy’s father waited in the parlor. He glared at Jack before addressing Carrman. “How is she?”
“It will take time.”
Jack needed his news straight up, not in couched language meant to soothe. “She’ll recover fully?”
“Most likely.” Carrman spoke to Darcy’s father, not Jack.
Apparently everyone blamed him. Rightly.
“She appears to have suffered no serious effects,” Carrman continued, “but a blow to the head is tricky. In rare instances there’s a hemorrhage in the brain that cannot be detected. The next few days will tell. To be safe, keep her in bed and alert as much as possible. I’ve already given your wife instructions for her care.” He shook Mr. Shea’s hand. “I’m optimistic she will be herself within the week.”
Darcy’s father heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank God. May I see her?”
“Yes, of course.” Carrman packed his medical bag.
Mr. Shea leveled his attention on Jack. “Mr. Hunter, tell me why my daughter was in your plane.”
Jack stared. She hadn’t told him? But she said her father had given her permission. “She said—” He couldn’t betray her. “That is, I asked her to take readings. It was a short flight, and the weather was good. There shouldn’t have been a problem, but a sudden updraft caught the wings too close to the ground.”
Shea’s stony expression didn’t ease.
“It’s my fault, sir.”
Shea nodded curtly. “It won’t happen again.”
No, it wouldn’t, but not because of anything her father might say. Darcy had nearly died. Never again. Jack Hunter would never again teach a woman to fly.
After two days of doctor-ordered bed rest, Darcy welcomed company. She didn’t welcome Beattie’s news.
“He’s gone?” Darcy stared at her friend, mouth agape. “Are you sure?”
Beattie nodded. “I’m afraid so. Blake said he went home to arrange shipment of the plane. They towed it into the barn, and then he left.”
Darcy threw off the quilt. “But why? He could have waited. He could have seen me, talked to me. Why did he sneak off? It’s only March. We have time. We can fix the plane and still make the attempt.” Beatrice tried to pull the covers back over Darcy, but she was having none of it. “Has anyone surveyed the plane? We need to order supplies.”
“Didn’t you hear me? Jack called off the flight. He’s going to have the plane shipped to Buffalo.”
“Did Blake agree to this?” The project was funded with Kensington money, after all.
“With no pilot, he didn’t have much choice. Jack said he’d repay our investment.”
“How?” As far as she knew, Jack lacked money.
Beattie’s brow puckered. “He said something about exhibiting.”
“Flying exhibitions?” That meant Jack would go south, perhaps to Texas. Darcy hopped out of bed and threw on her robe. “Then we need to hurry. We’ll fix the plane before Jack comes back. First, we need to order the materials. There’s not much time.” She rummaged in her desk for paper and a pencil. “We’ll need wood, preferably spruce, enough good, strong linen cloth to cover the wings. Doping compound, paint, wire, screws, of course. Do you know if the metal nacelle mount was damaged?”
Beattie stared. “Darcy?”
“Never mind. I’ll check. We need to place the order right away.” She pressed the flat end of the pencil against her chin. “It could take a week to get everything.”
“Darcy.” Beattie scolded, hands folded atop her lilac satin bag like she was sitting in church. “Slow down. You don’t know if Jack will come back.”
Darcy locked eyes with her friend. “Of course he will, if I have to go to Buffalo and drag him back by the ears.”
“Darcy! You can’t force a man to do something he doesn’t want to do.”
“I’m not forcing him. This is his dream. He told me so.”
Beattie slowly shook her head. “If you’re right, then something made him walk away. Something upset him enough to give up his dream. Maybe the crash?”
Darcy almost countered that Jack couldn’t be upset by a little accident, but then she recalled his boast that he’d never crashed a plane before. Was that enough to shake him? If so, she had to bring that confidence back.
“It doesn’t matter,” Darcy said. “Now is the time to support him. Now is the time to press forward. Obstacles are mere detours on the path to success. No great explorer has ever succeeded without overcoming setbacks. When Jack comes back to fetch his plane, he’ll find it good as new. He’ll find us ready, and he’ll know that we stand behind him.”
Beattie threw up her hands in surrender. “You are a dreamer.”