How he loved to see her happy, and nothing pleased her more than flying. Sissy and Simmons were right. He couldn’t stop her, even though he wanted to. She loved flying more than anything or anyone. Including him.
She stood so close, yet utterly beyond reach—like an expensive jewel on the other side of a shop window. He wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted to hold and protect her forever, but that would crush the very spirit he loved.
“You look worried,” she said.
“Twin motors have never been tried on this model.”
“We’ve made three successful flights.”
“One less than successful.” Her dark eyes nearly made him forget what he was saying. That’s why they couldn’t make the transatlantic flight together. That’s why he wished he didn’t have to fly with her. He pulled away.
A flicker of disappointment crossed her face. “But the last two went beautifully.”
“I still I wish I had the opinion of a good aviation mechanic.”
“Would an aviation engineer do?” said a very familiar voice.
Jack whirled around. “Burrows.” He couldn’t help grinning at the sight of his old friend. All his problems were solved. Burrows could check the calculations and tell him in an instant where to shave pounds. He could also navigate the last two test flights.
Darcy felt the chill the moment Jack turned away from her. Their connection had been so solid. They were working out the problem together, full partners in the venture. True, he hadn’t revealed much about his family, but she’d broken through a little. Before long they’d be telling each other everything.
Now Burrows claimed Jack’s full attention. She stood to the side, forgotten.
Jack grasped Burrows’s hand in a firm shake. “What brings you to this outpost of civilization? Hopefully it’s to drag Pohlman here.”
Darcy stiffened. She’d hoped Jack had ruled out the tardy navigator.
“Don’t know about Pohlman,” Burrows said. “After I found out about the crash, I had to come. See what was really going on here.”
“Where did you hear about that?” Jack actually looked affronted.
“How are you, Miss Shea?” Burrows shot a smile her way. “Just as lovely as I remember.”
Darcy knew flirting when she saw it.
“How’s your girl doing?” Jack said a little too pointedly.
“My girl?” Burrows screwed up his face. “Oh, you must mean Beulah. That was never serious.” He smiled again at Darcy. “There are fun women and then there are serious women. I can tell Miss Shea is the serious type.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous. “Serious enough to know you’re nothing but trouble.”
Jack grinned broadly at her response. His cornflower-blue eyes fixed on her, and she felt that wonderful glow deep inside.
Burrows cleared his throat. “Shall we get back to business? Is it true that you’re considering the transatlantic attempt in this old crate?”
Jack’s attention went back to the plane. “Can’t see why I should be talking to the competition.”
“No competition here, sport. The navy isn’t going for the prize. Besides, they’re still finishing the NC-4.” He leaned against the worktable. “I can bring you up to speed on the competition, though.” He pulled a newspaper from his inside jacket pocket and spread it out on the table. “Look at this.”
Jack bent over the paper.
Darcy could sense Jack’s growing anxiety. He glanced at Burrows. “I’m figuring Hawker, with the Sopwith group, has the best shot.”
“Don’t count out the Martinsyde fliers. They’re already there, Jack. Both groups.”
“In St. John’s?”
Burrows nodded. “According to this, Hawker and Grieve planned to take off on the twelfth, the day after Raynham and Morgan arrived with their Martinsyde.”
Darcy sucked in her breath. This was terrible news.
“They’re already gone?” Jack looked panicky. “By now Hawker and Grieve will be sipping Champagne in England.”
Burrows shook his head. “Called it off due to bad weather, but they’re ready.”
Jack looked sick.
Darcy felt for him. “Maybe they won’t make it. Anything could happen.” Again she was ignored.
“I gather you’re not ready to go,” Burrows said.
Jack silently reread the article.
Darcy had to save him. He couldn’t give up now. “We will be. Just a couple more test flights, and we’ll be there.”
Jack raked a hand through his hair. “Then we need to ship the plane, get a decent place for takeoff.” He groaned. “I’d like to have an expert on my team to check the engines—here and in Newfoundland.”
“I can take a look here,” Burrows obliged, “but not in Newfoundland. You know I’m tied to the NC project.”
“And if they take off from the same field, what’s a little assistance here or there? You said the navy wasn’t going for the prize money.”