Love by Design Page 8

  “Ouch!” But he laughed, too, that warm inviting chuckle that meant he’d enjoyed their little sparring match. “Figured I’d check in on you, but it looks like you have things handled here.”

  “Wait a minute, are you saying you’re not going to help?”

  He propped his chin in his hands again, his lips mere inches from hers. “Darling, I’m all yours.”

  Someone gasped. It was definitely feminine—and not her.

  Jen shot to her feet, face flaming, to discover her sister Minnie standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

  Minnie held out a small basket. “You forgot lunch.”

  “Oh. Set it on the table.” Jen knew she was being unreasonably harsh, but she could just imagine what Minnie had thought she’d seen. Dan’s mouth had been only inches from hers. “Nothing was going on, right, Wagner?”

  He had the most irritating smirk on his face. “Nothing at all and that includes work.”

  She could have slapped him.

  Minnie, however, looked from him to her and back again. “Jen’s really nice once you get to know her.”

  “Is that so?” Dan said drily.

  Jen gestured for her sister to stop matchmaking.

  Minnie didn’t. “She’s a lot of fun and will try anything. If you ask me, Jen is the bravest person I know. She is going to fly over the North Pole. She’s wanted to fly airplanes her whole life, and she’ll be even better than Mrs. Hunter. All she needs is someone to teach her.” That minx smiled coyly. “She’s pretty, too, don’t you think? She’s the only one of us who inherited our father’s coloring.”

  Jen was dying. “Don’t you need to get back to the dress shop?”

  “Oh, no.” Minnie played the innocent. “Ruth gave me a whole hour for lunch.”

  Jen was not deceived. Her sister hadn’t come here just to bring lunch. She was making a very calculated visit.

  “But I don’t want to interrupt you,” Minnie added slyly. “You looked like you were deep in conversation.”

  “No, we weren’t, Miss...uh, Fox?” Dan stammered.

  “This is my baby sister, Minnie,” Jen said. “She is heading home, aren’t you?”

  Dan chuckled. “Pleased to meet you, Minnie. Don’t mind Jen. I know exactly how an older sibling can act, since I’m the oldest of three boys.”

  Minnie shook his hand. “And I’m the youngest of four girls.”

  “So I understand.” He scooped up his Stetson and plunked it on his head. “Don’t mind me. I was heading out, anyway. Have some business to take care of. Ladies.” He nodded farewell and left.

  “How could you?” Jen choked out after she heard his footsteps die away.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Minnie pulled a newspaper from her coat pocket. “The first batch of antitoxin reached the children in that Alaska village. Page four. Sorry, but I have to go now.”

  Before Jen could reprimand her, Minnie danced out of the office. Jen slammed down the newspaper and followed. That girl needed to learn that she should never do this again.

  “Come back here, you little scamp!”

  Minnie squealed, but she was also quick. She slipped out of the school before Jen had crossed the hangar. By the time Jen stepped outside, Peter was pulling away in the old Model T he had fixed up last fall. Minnie sat beside him.

  Jen kicked at the melting snow. She would kill her sister, but it would have to wait until later. She eyed the airfield. It was still firm, but a couple more days of this thaw would turn it into a muddy, sloppy mess. She blew out her breath and was about to head back into the school when she noticed the barn door was ajar. Maybe Jack was there. Maybe she could ask him to take her grass cutting before the field got soft.

  She hurried along the path. The sun was warm, but the breeze was icy. She wished she’d put on her mackinaw. When she reached the door, she started to slip inside when she heard the murmur of men’s voices.

  In years past, she could have looked between the boards to see inside, but Jack had sheathed the interior to retain heat. Though she’d lost that vantage point, she could still see through the narrow gap where the door met the siding. Dan stood with his back to her, facing Jack. He punctuated his point with a stab of his finger.

  Jen held her breath, straining to hear.

  “If you put her in the cockpit, I’ll quit the expedition,” Wagner said.

  “Don’t worry.” Jack clapped Dan on the shoulder. “I don’t know where you got the idea I would put an inexperienced aviator in the cockpit for such an important flight. Jen can talk all she wants, but she’ll be staying safe at home.”

  Jen stumbled backward. And then she ran. Where, it didn’t matter. She just had to get away from that traitor, Dan Wagner.

  Chapter Seven

  Once Jen reached the road, she slowed her pace to a walk. That’s when she realized she’d forgotten her coat. The cold bit into her.

  After retrieving coat and lunch basket, she headed for the dress shop. Ruth would know what to do. Then she remembered that Minnie would be there. Ruth had probably sent her on the matchmaking mission. After all, Minnie wasn’t one to pack a lunch basket. No, she couldn’t get advice from Ruth. Jen’s older sister would say that Dan was only trying to protect Jen. Well, she had not asked for protection, especially from him.

  Mother would not sympathize, either. She had given Jen the money for the written flight examination, but only because Daddy would have wanted it. Her insistence that Jen find a more traditional occupation was proof that she, too, did not want Jen to fly.

  The only person in Pearlman who might understand was Darcy. She had told Jen that it took some convincing to get Jack to teach her to fly. Well, if Darcy could do it, so could Jen. She just needed to know how.

  After eating lunch on an icy bench in the park, she headed for the Hunters’ house. Jack’s car wasn’t there, so he wasn’t home. She knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” Darcy called from inside. “The door is unlocked.”

  That was unusual. Darcy always greeted visitors, even family and close friends. She must feel poorly indeed. Maybe Jen shouldn’t bother her. Then again, Darcy could have ignored the knock or sent her away.

  Jen pushed open the door. “It’s me. Jen.”

  “Come in. I’m in the parlor.”

  Jen kicked off her boots, set down the empty lunch basket and slipped out of the mackinaw. Then she walked stocking-footed into the small parlor.

  “It’s so good to see you.” Darcy sat under a blanket on the sofa with her legs stretched out. She looked a little pale and fatigued.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  Darcy waved off Jen’s concern. “Just the normal rigors of carrying a child. Weight gain and nausea. Nothing I can’t handle. Now, what can I do for you?”

  Jen perched on the edge of a chair. How could she put this so Darcy didn’t think she was sweet on Dan?

  “Nervous?” Darcy pointed to Jen’s feet.

  Sure enough, her foot was tapping at a rapid rate. “Irritated is more like it.”

  “Let me guess. Does it have anything to do with Dan Wagner?” This time Darcy’s smile reached clear to her generous heart.

  From the first time Jen approached her, Darcy had supported her desire to fly. She had understood when Jen needed to use her savings for the family rather than flight lessons. She had hired Jen before the school had many students and probably before they could afford it. Jen owed Darcy Hunter a great deal. It was terribly selfish to burden her with Dan’s interference.

  “It’s nothing important.”

  Darcy sighed. “You didn’t come here for no reason. Spit it out.”

  Jen had to smile. That was her friend, straight to the point and always positive. “I’m hoping you can give me some advice. You mention
ed that you had to persuade Jack to teach you to fly. How did you do it?”

  “Ahhh. Mr. Wagner won’t teach you to fly.”

  “Not only that, but he made Jack promise not to take me on the polar attempt.”

  Darcy’s gaze narrowed. “Do you mean in the cockpit?”

  Spoken aloud, the idea sounded ridiculous.

  Jen stared at her hands. “Wagner mentioned that they should have a backup in case someone gets sick. I figured I could be that backup. Why not? Wouldn’t it be better to have someone they know, someone who has been working with those engines from the start?”

  “You’ve never flown. You haven’t even taken flight training yet.”

  “Yes, but I can be ready if only someone would teach me. The weather conditions are perfect. They could easily pull one of the trainers out of the hangar and take me up.”

  Darcy had started shaking her head midway through Jen’s reasoning. “It’s not that simple. They are busy men with a lot on their minds. They don’t have the time to train anyone. Even if they did, you wouldn’t have the experience for that kind of flight. I’m sorry to be blunt, but that’s the truth.”

  Jen had not expected Darcy to stand against her. She shot to her feet. “Well then, why do I even bother? If I can’t be involved—”

  “I didn’t say you wouldn’t be involved.”

  “If I can’t fly on the polar attempt,” Jen restated, “then there’s no use learning to fly.” She stomped toward the door.

  Darcy stopped her with a single question. “Why do you want to fly?”

  “For my father.” A clot formed in her throat, and the next words came out ragged. “It was our dream.”

  “It needs to be your dream,” Darcy stated, “and no one else’s. Dreams demand a high cost, and no one but you can pay it.”

  * * *

  When it rains it pours, or in this case, snows. Dan stared at the old wall telephone in the boardinghouse, wishing that for once it could bring good news.

  The day had started off badly, with a written reminder of the deadline to submit bids for the airmail contract. The US Post Office must be struggling to get bids if they were soliciting him based on an initial inquiry. The fellow handling the bids had written personally. The letter had raised doubts in Dan’s mind. Was he making the right decision? An airmail route offered a comparatively secure future. The polar attempt—headed by a man who’d failed in his transatlantic attempt—was a long shot. The prudent man would choose the airmail route. Daring Dan had never been known as prudent.

  On top of that, with calm winds and clear skies, he’d expected another test flight only to have one engine toss a valve when they started it. The next layer came when Jen snapped at him as if it was his fault that her sister had decided to play matchmaker.

  The long-distance call from Montana was the cherry on the ice cream sundae. Apparently the blizzard had drifted so much snow onto the old barn roof that one end collapsed. They’d salvaged the feed and straw, but a new roof had to be built. That meant more money, which Dan didn’t have.

  “Can’t it wait?” he said when Joe stopped long enough for him to get a word in edgewise.

  “What? Are you out of yer mind? The feed’ll rot if it’s not covered.”

  “I thought you said they got it into the other half of the barn.”

  “Yes, but the roof’s gone. The snow’s blowing in as we speak. You need to git a roof up, son, or that herd’ll starve.”

  Dan did a double take. “I thought the herd was on the range.”

  “Nope. Yer pa brung ’em down to pasture once the blizzard let up. Didn’t want to lose any more, I figure.”

  Only that could have changed Pa’s mind. Dan had suffered through a bout of measles without the benefit of a doctor, but let one cow go off her feed and Pa would call out the troops. Cattle are money, his pa had said. Without cattle, we don’t eat. Plain and simple. Even though Dan had sunk fortunes into the business, his contributions didn’t compare to working the herd.

  “You still there?” Joe’s voice crackled over the line.

  Dan snapped back to attention. The connection could drop at any moment. “Yes, sir. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Yer pa’s not gonna like that answer.”

  Dan fumed. His pa never liked Dan’s answers. “I’ll find some way to get together the money for the roof. You tell Pa to go ahead and get the work done.”

  “Thanks, Dan. Yer pa’ll be mighty glad to hear that.” The static increased, obliterating half of Joe’s words. “...mighty proud...”

  The connection broke, and Dan hung up the receiver. His only choices were sending the savings he’d set aside for setting up the airmail route or begging Kensington for an advance. He fingered the letter in his pocket. The airmail route was his safety net in case this unlikely polar expedition didn’t get off the ground. No, he wouldn’t sacrifice that parachute.

  He would beg.

  The last time he’d seen Kensington was at Hunter’s party. The man had blustered and boasted like the best politician. Dan hadn’t heard much of it, because his attention had been captivated by a pretty woman in a dark red dress. Maybe it was her discomfort, maybe her total lack of artifice, but he could not look away.

  How different Jen Fox was in her own surroundings. The flight school was home to her. She knew where every little thing was located. She could put her finger on the last detail. She wanted the impossible and was just determined enough to talk her way into it.

  Securing Jack’s promise that she would not be in the cockpit during the polar attempt had been the one good thing that came out of the day.

  * * *

  Wagner didn’t show up at all on Friday, which was just fine with Jen. She could manage the supply operation without his supervision and distracting conversation. It also kept her sisters away. Though she’d scolded Minnie over that ridiculous matchmaking attempt, neither Minnie nor Ruth had shown any remorse.

  When Jen arrived to help close the dress shop late that afternoon, any customers had left. Minnie and Ruth were deep in conversation. They looked up with a decidedly guilty expression.

  “What’s going on?” Jen prodded.

  “Nothing,” her sisters said in unison.

  They then looked at each other. Minnie mouthed something. Ruth shook her head.

  Jen had no interest in their scheming as long as it didn’t concern her. “Where’s Sam?”

  Ruth’s husband often worked in the back room, unless there were customers. Some women preferred to do business with him, which would have irritated Jen to no end but didn’t seem to bother Ruth at all.

  Jen’s older sister waved a hand but also didn’t meet her gaze. “He had some errands to run, and then he planned to check the post.”

  The post office also happened to be the telegraph office and telephone exchange, all of which were manned by the biggest gossip in Pearlman.

  Jen glanced around the shop. Other than one of Ruth’s design projects, it looked overly tidy. Judging by the slim stack of orders, no customers had stopped in. She recalled the same three orders on the metal spindle yesterday. Jen had never stitched so much as a hem, but she knew that meant trouble.

  “Is that all the work you have lined up?”

  Ruth glanced at the spindle and shrugged. “It’s always slow this time of year. Those are waiting for fabric to arrive.”

  Jen frowned. In the past, Ruth would have fretted over the lack of business. Now she didn’t seem to care. “How much trouble are we in?”

  “Trouble?” Ruth blinked. “None at all, thank you.”

  That response came too quickly. Jen turned to Minnie.

  “It’s slow,” her baby sister admitted, “but we should get some alterations and repair orders before and after the Valentine’s Day Ball.”

>   Jen had forgotten about the annual soiree for the Pearlman elite. “That’s only a week away. Shouldn’t you have gotten orders by now?”

  “Genevieve Fox,” Ruth exclaimed, “since when have you cared about business at the dress shop? You only come here to talk or when I ask you to watch the shop because Minnie and Sam and I are busy.”

  Jen cringed at the use of her detested given name and raised her hands in surrender. “All right. I don’t know a thing.”

  But she still suspected things were not as rosy as Ruth let on. If business plummeted at the dress shop, they were all in trouble. Jen didn’t have a paying job this time of year. Minnie had dropped all her housecleaning clients now that she was also helping her fiancé, Peter, at the motor garage by doing the billing.

  Again Ruth looked at Minnie. This time they both nodded.

  “The more important matter is the Valentine’s Ball,” Ruth said far too cheerfully. “Minnie and I have been talking, and we decided you need a new gown.”

  “Whatever for? People like us don’t get invited to the ball. Minnie used to work at it.”

  Jen’s baby sister made a face. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  That might have been an unwarranted jab, but Jen did not need or want a dress. “The point is, I wouldn’t go to that ball even if I was invited, and I won’t be. You and I both know that. The ball is for the people who live on the Hill.” The wealthy part of Pearlman had been dubbed the Hill due to its location on the large hill overlooking town.

  “I heard it’s going to be different this year,” Ruth said with a dramatic pause.

  “You heard? Oh, from Sam.”

  Ruth had married into a wealthy family, though Sam’s father had disinherited him for marrying her. He still would know what the social elite had planned.

  “Not from Sam.” Ruth grinned at Minnie. “In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t know, considering you’re working on the polar expedition.”

  Now Jen was confused. “What does the expedition have to do with the ball?”

  “I understand that everyone involved with the expedition is going to receive an invitation,” Ruth said triumphantly. “Since you’re involved, you must be invited. That means you need a new gown. That ghastly Christmas dress that Beatrice loaned you won’t do. Aside from being horribly out of date, it’s not suited to your temperament at all.”