The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

It wasn’t a question that Lizzy could ask, of course. Instead, she ventured, “You said Miss Dare had a ranch. Past tense. She doesn’t live there anymore?”


“Henrietta—Lily, that is—is a big spender.” Charlie’s tone was matter-of-fact. “She married oil money, and when her husband died—he was nearly thirty years older and drowned in his bathtub—she got it all, every cent. There were people who thought that the drowning was a bit too convenient, and her stepsons were furious at being cut out of their father’s will. Still, the lawyers told them there was nothing they could do about it. Lily was rolling in dough, at least for a while. But the Crash hit her like a ton of bricks. She lost the ranch to the bank. And her record-breaking airplane—her Travel Air Speedwing, which cost her a cool thirteen grand—was repossessed. She started the circus to make some money. I doubt that it’s been a big financial success.”

Lizzy was struck into silence by the weight of the story. At last she managed a question, then another. “Her airplane was repossessed? Then what—I mean, she’s flying something, isn’t she?”

“She’s flying a Jenny.” He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

“A Jenny? What’s that?”

“A Curtiss JN-4. It’s the plane most barnstormers fly. It’s a bi-wing and stable at low airspeeds, which makes it ideal for stunt flying and aerobatics. But believe you me, it’s nothing like the Travel Air. That’s the plane she flew when she set the woman’s speed record back in 1930. It had a Wright J-6-7 engine and racing wings. The fastest plane ever designed, at that time. And nobody could figure out what made it go fast. Was it the engine? The wings, the cowling—what? The specs were so secret that the press dubbed it the ‘Mystery Ship.’” He stubbed out his cigarette, hard. “Lily Dare flew that plane faster than anybody, faster than Amelia Earhart, even, at 197.6 miles per hour.”

“Amazing,” Lizzy murmured. “Almost 200 miles an hour! It’s hard to imagine anybody going that fast.” What was just as amazing, she thought, was Charlie Dickens’ enthusiasm. Normally, the man was as cool as a cucumber. Obviously, Lily Dare, whatever her faults and failings, had a place in his heart. Was Miss Dare’s visit likely to rekindle Charlie’s former feelings for her? What effect would this have on his relationship with Fannie?

Charlie’s grin was crooked. “Of course, that record has already been broken, numerous times. Lily loves to fly fast, but closed-course racing—where the speed can be clocked and the records set—is too predictable and repetitive for her. She refuses to fly in circles, even if it means giving up her main claim to fame.”

“I see,” Lizzy replied thoughtfully. She could understand that, and the knowledge made her like Lily a little more. She herself wouldn’t enjoy setting speed records if it meant flying in a circle, hour after hour, like a yo-yo at the end of a string. Where was the fun and adventure in that? But if she listened between the lines, Charlie seemed to be saying something else.

“What you’re telling me,” she said slowly, “is that Miss Dare isn’t the big star that people in Darling think she is. She’s not the fastest woman on earth.”

“Well, she may not hold the current speed record, but she’s still a star. She flew for Howard Hughes as a stunt pilot in Hell’s Angels, and followed that up with Howard Hawks’ The Dawn Patrol.” He fished in his pocket for another Lucky, lit it, and blew out the match. “Of course, she was flying as a stand-in. The fans think the leading man was in that cockpit.” He chuckled wryly. “The anonymous Miss Lily Dare. Unsung star of the silver screen.”

“Gosh,” Lizzy breathed. She preferred romantic comedies, especially now that most of them were talkies. But Grady was a big fan of adventure movies and they saw every one that came to town. “The Dawn Patrol? Wasn’t that the one with Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.? Miss Dare was in it?”

“That’s right,” Charlie said. He pursed his lips. “From what I heard, Lily and the dashing Douglas played quite a few scenes together—off the set, that is. After hours.”

Lizzie imagined she heard jealousy in his voice. “But I thought Douglas Fairbanks was married to Joan Crawford,” she ventured. Was Lily Dare the kind of woman who fooled around with another woman’s husband? Then she thought of what Grady had told her about the barbershop gossip about Roger Kilgore and Lily Dare. Could it possibly be true?

“Don’t be so na?ve, Liz,” Charlie said with an ironic laugh. “A little thing like a wedding ring never stops Lily Dare.” His voice hardened. “When something’s off-limits, it just adds to her fun.”