Ames called with news that his sister was improving, and he was waiting for clear weather to return to Louisville. It was a small consolation. Mittie busied herself with visits to Nell and Quentin and marveled along with the rest of the family at how quickly the tiny bundle named Mira had completely captured all their hearts.
On the last Monday in January, Mittie had just come in from her morning ride on Gypsy when Ames called. She held her breath, hoping he would say he was back. Instead, he was in Lincoln, Nebraska. And he had found her a plane.
“What? Nebraska? Whose plane?” Her heart raced, but it was confusing and she thought there must be something wrong with the connection.
“A single-engine Curtiss that runs like a top. I think it’s just what you’re looking for.”
When reality began to sink in, a knot coiled in her stomach. She hadn’t asked or expected Ames to take the lead on her search. Was it the nudge she needed?
Her business sense took over. “How did you happen to find it?”
“I was in Lincoln on business, talking to some of the fellas at the flying school, and heard about it.”
Stay calm. Don’t go flipping over something that might be a wild goose chase. Still, Ames had thought of her, and that sent goose bumps rippling down her arms.
She quizzed Ames about the plane, its track record, performance, the price—everything she could think of. It had to be a business decision, not an emotional one. She had her daddy to thank for that and her years of working among saddlebreds.
“One other question: Why is the owner selling?”
Ames chuckled. “His wife has her eye on a new house. I can pay him if you wire me the money, but we’ll have to figure out how to get it to Louisville.”
The operator came on the line for the one-minute warning.
“I can’t buy it without testing it. What’s the weather like?”
“Bright blue skies. Frosty mornings. Perfect flying weather.”
“Let me do some checking here. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll let you know.”
“A couple of other fellas have been looking at it, and he’s anxious to sell, so timing is a factor.”
“See if he’ll hold off until I get there.” The line went dead.
Ames would call tomorrow. Either way, she needed to be prepared. She went to the bank that afternoon and got the money, and after dinner told her parents she was going to Nebraska.
Her daddy remarked that it was rather sudden.
“You know I’ve been anxious to do this, and it’s a spectacular opportunity.”
Her mother pinched her lips. “Forevermore, Mittie. What about the weather? It’s so unpredictable this time of year.”
She hated when her mother adopted that tone, addressing her as if she were ten years old. Mittie held her tongue. “Ames assured me the weather was fine.” She gave them the details of the plane, but her daddy shook his head.
“I’m aware that you are anxious to get your own plane, but I had rather hoped you would go through Bobby York or Weaver.”
“You don’t think Ames knows his business?”
“I’m sure he does, but the distance concerns me, and like I said, it seems too spontaneous.”
“I’ve already been to the bank and checked the train schedule.”
“I see.” Her daddy’s jaw twitched. “Very well, then. You’re a grown woman, and if you’ve made up your mind, there’s no sense trying to convince you otherwise.”
“I guess I’d rather hoped you would be happy for me.”
She spun on her heels and left the room, tears stinging her eyes.
The next day when Ames called, she told him when she would be there the following morning. That evening, she boarded the train for the twelve-hour trip. Sleep was elusive even with the curtain drawn around her berth in the Pullman coach. As the wheels clattered on the track beneath her, she wondered if she was being rash. In the next instant, she imagined herself soaring, climbing higher as she nosed through the clouds and came out above them at heaven’s footstool.
Stiff and achy, she stepped onto the platform in Lincoln and breathed in the crisp winter morning, the skies wide open.
Ames waved from the rail, and she ran to his outstretched arms. He picked her up and swung her around, then kissed her, his aftershave fresh with a hint of spice.
She leaned back and looked at him. “You must’ve just come from the barber.” She tracked her finger along his smooth cheek, his neatly trimmed sideburns.
“Spiffed up just for you, doll.” He picked up her suitcase with one hand and hailed a cab with the other. “Nance—he’s the fella selling—doesn’t expect us for another hour. How about some breakfast?”
“I’m too nervous to eat, but I’d love a cup of coffee.”
Ames told the cab driver the name of a diner close to the Lincoln Flying School where the plane was kept. Twenty minutes later, they sat side by side in a booth, and while Ames ate, Mittie asked him to tell her again about the plane.
“You just need to see it for yourself.”
“Should I change into flight gear for a test flight?”
“There’s a locker room at the field.” He put an arm around her and nuzzled her ear. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too. And if this works out, is there any chance we might fly back together?”
“There’s nothing I’d love more, but when I flew Trixie down here, I hadn’t reckoned I’d find you a plane. All my gear is back home in Iowa.” He squeezed her hand and leaned in close, his breath warm on her cheek.
Something niggled in her brain—Iris’ words about getting to know Ames’ family. “Wait! I have an idea. Why don’t we fly to Iowa together, and I can meet your sister and see where you grew up? I’m in no rush to get back—”
He held up his hand. “Fern would love that, and so would I, but the doctor still hasn’t given her clearance to be around people. The pneumonia’s put quite a strain on her lungs.”
“So she’s still under a doctor’s care?”
“For now. I’m just relieved she’s made as much progress as she has.”
“It’s good of you to be so attentive. Is her husband able to help?”
“That lowlife? He wouldn’t even if he was around. There’s just Fern and Lela.” He shuddered as if the subject was distasteful.
“Lela? Who’s she?”
Ames’ hand went to his chest. “I’ve not told you about Lela? Ah…” He took a deep breath, his lips curving into a smile. “She’s my niece. Three—no, wait—four years old with big brown eyes and long eyelashes.” He widened his eyes in exaggeration.
“Sounds like she got her looks from you.”
Ames shook his head. “That train ride must’ve addled your brain.”
“I don’t know. I think you’re pretty cute.”
He drained the last of his coffee. “And with that, I think we should be on our way.”
They could see the hangars of the Lincoln Flying School a few blocks away, and since they were still early, they walked, Ames carrying Mittie’s bag, the bright clear morning full of promise.
Mr. Nance had clipped hair, graying at the temples, and wore coveralls with a grease rag in the back pocket. When he saw Ames, he wiped his hands on the rag and came to greet them, a curious look on his broad face.
“I see you’ve brought the missus.”
Ames chuckled. “No, this is Mittie Humphreys, the one who’s interested in buying the plane.”
Mittie offered her hand. “I appreciate you waiting until I had a chance to get here.”
Mr. Nance nodded, a look of puzzlement on his broad face. “You’re the buyer?”
“I hope to be…after I’ve had a chance to try out the plane, of course. Ames tells me it flies like a dream.”
He nodded toward her and turned to Ames. “Could I talk with you privately?”
“I’m sure that anything you have to say, Mittie would like to hear.”
“There’s been a misunderstanding. You led me to believe you were buying the plane for yourself, not…” His look soured when his eyes met Mittie’s. “I’m sorry; I didn’t catch your name.”
“Mittie Humphreys from Louisville.”
“Mr. Dewberry didn’t say anything about no dame.”
Ames drew in a deep breath. “You were quite eager to sell yesterday. Has someone given you a better offer?”
His jaw twitched. “I’m sorry for your trouble, miss, but the plane’s no longer available.”
Ames’ face darkened. “What do you mean? I thought we had an understanding.”
“I beg to differ. There was never any mention of selling to a woman who is young enough to be my daughter. That Earhart woman should be ashamed putting ideas into girls’ heads.”
Mittie felt like she’d been hit with a shovel. Who did Mr. Nance think he was? And why hadn’t Ames told him she was the buyer? Her pulse pounded in her ears. Calm down. All is not lost.
She made a feeble attempt at chuckling. “I admire a man who has strong opinions, and I’m sure you want the best home for your plane. You no doubt wonder if I’m capable. If it’s any consolation, I’ve been through a flying program and have a pilot’s license.” She walked over and looked at the plane, ran her fingers along the nose. “She’s quite a beauty. I hope you’ll reconsider. And I’m prepared to pay cash if that’s a concern.”
Mr. Nance looked from Ames to Mittie. “The plane is not for sale.” He turned on the heel of heavy boots and marched toward the hangar, leaving Mittie with her mouth gaping open and fury pulsing through her.
She turned to Ames, trying to control the growl crawling up her throat. “I can’t believe he would be so close-minded.” The taste of acid came in her mouth. Her eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell him I was the buyer?”
Ames held up his hands and took a step back. “I had no idea he would be so pigheaded. He was more than eager yesterday.”
“When he thought he was dealing with you…a man.”
“I may have let on that I was the buyer. I honestly didn’t think it was important. What I suspect is he had a better offer and just used you as an excuse.”
Mittie gritted her teeth. “You had me come all this way and only told him half of the truth.” She picked up her suitcase and walked toward the hangar.
Within seconds he was beside her. “I was only looking out for your best interests. I thought you’d be pleased. Besides…” He stopped, a scowl knitting his dark brows together.
“Besides, what?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “Look, Mr. Nance’s opinion isn’t all that uncommon. I’ve run into quite a few who share his outlook. You have to coddle people sometimes to bring them around to new ideas. I was only trying to protect you. I felt certain that once he met you, he’d have no objections.”
“It looks like your brilliant plan backfired.”
“You’re not sore at me, are you?” The pleading look in his eyes almost melted her resolve.
She raised her eyebrows and looked steadily into Ames’ deep brown eyes. “I’m not sure what I think. Disappointed about the plane, but upset with you, too. All this way for nothing.” The heat in her face wasn’t just disappointment or anger, although she did feel those things. Mr. Nance was entitled to his opinions, small-minded as they were, but the gnawing in her stomach told her she’d been foolish to have acted so impulsively, a pattern in her life she thought she’d improved on. Apparently not.
Ames tilted her chin with his index finger. “I’m sorry. Let’s go somewhere and enjoy what’s left of the day.”
Mittie shook her head. “There’s a train that leaves in two hours. I plan to be on it.”
He blew out a breath and shrugged. “Have it your way. I need to be getting back home myself.”
A cloud hung in the air between them, one that neither seemed to break through. Ames called a cab to take her to the station and told her he’d call. It sounded hollow.
Halfway to St. Louis, it started snowing—not big, fluffy flakes like they’d had on Christmas Eve, but blinding curtains of snow and sleet. Weather she might very well have been flying in had Mr. Nance granted her ownership of the plane. Her protection hadn’t come from Ames, but from a source much greater.
She didn’t need Ames Dewberry or anyone else to find her a plane. If she was going to make it in a profession ruled by men, she would have to depend on herself. And maybe a little help from above.