Soaring Home

“I thought perhaps you would be with him,” Mum added softly.

“I’m going to the barn now to tell him I can’t go on the flight.”

“I see. What changed your mind?”

Darcy bowed her head. “It’s Sunday. I can’t fly.” As she said the words, she realized they condemned Jack. “I’m praying for him.”

Tears glistened in Mum’s eyes. “Me, too.”

Darcy’s throat squeezed shut, and tears threatened to fall.

Mum hugged her close. “You’re doing the right thing, dearest. You will never regret putting God first. You could give no greater example to Jack.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Mum gazed at her with calm assurance. “Trust in the Lord, and He will guide your steps. He is a mighty God, capable of changing the hardest heart. Believe it, dearest, with all your heart and all your soul.”

“And it will become true?” Darcy wiped away a tear.

“If you only have faith the size of a mustard seed.”

“It’s so hard,” Darcy choked out, blinking back the tears.

“I know this flight means the world to you,” Mum said, “but there will be other flights and other days.”

No there won’t. Darcy’s lip quivered. She didn’t want to think of what she was losing.

She handed the tissue-wrapped claw to Mum. “Give this to Papa, please.”

“What is it?”

“The bear claw. Tell Papa to give it to Freddie.”

Mum nodded. “I’ll do that. Thank you, Darcy. And remember to trust. All will turn out well in the end. You’ll see.”

Darcy pulled on her black coat and slowly walked to the barn. Even from a distance, she could see the coal oil lanterns burning inside. Jack was already there. Her heart beat miserably, banging a death dirge with each step.

If this was right, why did it hurt so much? She dreaded speaking the words, seeing Jack’s face, hearing his fury. He’d asked her to tell him yesterday if she wasn’t going, but she hadn’t. No matter what she did, she let someone down. It tore her to pieces that this time it was Jack.

She stepped softly into the barn, hoping he wouldn’t notice her right away, but he looked up at once. He stood at the worktable, pencil in hand, cap off. His hair stuck out a bit, like a boy just out of bed. In all her days, she would never forget the way he looked at that moment.

His smile faded as he noted her dress. “You’re not going.”

She nodded, her throat too constricted to speak.

He returned to the paperwork without a word. He looked pale, his lips were thinned and his face was somehow older in the lantern light. She’d devastated his plans, but he didn’t lash out at her. He just stood at the worktable, scratching away at his checklist.

Darcy waited for what seemed forever, and when he made no move to speak, she backed toward the door. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t reply. He didn’t look at her. He just worked. Disappointment coiled around her heart, squeezing it lifeless. She’d ruined everything. Everything.

She stumbled out of the barn into the dark predawn, barely able to see through the tears.





Chapter Fifteen




Rain spit from the skies before Darcy reached home, and she thanked God for the reprieve. At church she kept glancing to the doors, hoping Jack would come to worship. If he understood how much this meant to her, he would. But he didn’t, and the flicker of hope she’d cherished for a future together blew out.

By midafternoon the rain stopped. During Sunday dinner the sun came out. She listened for the aeroplane motors. Jack wouldn’t fly, would he? It would be dark before he reached the Upper Peninsula.

Still, she checked the sky every few minutes for the rest of the afternoon, until finally Papa set aside his magazine with a sigh.

“Go,” he said.

“Go where? I have nowhere to go.”

He shook his head. “I don’t consider it wise or safe, but you showed today that your heart is in the right place. Go on that flight. It obviously means a lot to you.”

Darcy could not believe her ears. “You’re giving your blessing?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He reopened the magazine.

Despite Papa’s reluctant approval, it was no use going to the barn that afternoon. Even if she could face Jack, he wouldn’t be there. He’d be…where? Surely not at the boardinghouse. A man desired entertainment. Her heart sank. Not at Mrs. Lawrence’s saloon? Since state prohibition had been repealed in February, the saloon had reopened publicly in its old location. Never once had Darcy seen signs Jack went there, but after their fight, he might. She sent a fervent prayer he’d stay away.