Page 3 of Soaring Sweethearts

Darn it all, she was crying. Ernie always said she was too soft-hearted for her own good, and she knew she needed to toughen up for this job. She’d promised herself she would never cry at work. It was unprofessional. And she was falling apart in front of Jack too. How humiliating!

“Constance?” he asked again, pulling over and stopping the car. “Hey there,” he said, taking her hand. “Everything all right, kiddo?”

Kiddo? Really? She was twenty-three years old now. Was he ever going to stop calling her that? When he wrote during the war, she thought he’d come to see her as the woman she’d become, not the kid he’d known before he left. But as usual, she’d read too much into it and taken his words too much to heart.

She sniffed. “I’ll be fine. I just need a moment to compose myself,” she said, pulling her hand back and wiping her eyes. “It’s just… It’s just…”

He waited.

As she looked up into his deep blue eyes, she tried not to think about how it could have been him up there. Lord, why had she taken this job?

“It could have been Ernie,” she said at last. Speaking the words brought on a new burst of tears, much to her embarrassment.

“Hey.” He held her gaze steady. His face was so close to hers. But she wasn’t delusional enough to think he meant anything by it. Not anymore. “It wasn’t Ernie,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “He’s safe.”

Blinking back her tears, she nodded.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, still holding her hand.

She obeyed.

“Take another one,” he said, as she brushed another tear away.

At last, she had control of herself. She pulled her head back, and he let his hand drop.

“I’m all right now. Thanks.” It was a lie, but at least she’d managed to make a good show of it.

Taking a few more deep breaths, she retrieved her handkerchief and compact from her purse and set about making herself presentable.

“There,” she said, after drying her eyes and powdering. “Can you tell I’ve been crying?”

He smiled at her, and it filled her with unwelcome warmth. “Not at all.”

“Thank heavens. They’d never take me seriously if I cried on my first day at work.”

“No one will ever know.” He patted her shoulder gently. It was unfair for such a handsome man to be so sweet. But that was Jack—sweet to a fault and totally oblivious.

“We should get back to work.”

He nodded. “Only if you’re ready.”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “I am.”

He started up the car again, and they continued their journey in silence.

Life was too fragile, and the life of a pilot was far too dangerous. All she could keep thinking was that it could have been Jack when she should have been focused on her brother.

Thank God it wasn’t Ernie. That would have spelled disaster for her family. But somehow the weight of that loss and its implications settled on her as if it had actually happened. She needed to do more to give Ernie his freedom so that he could enjoy his new life with Millie, and she had to ensure her family would be safe and secure in the event anything happened to him. That meant marrying. And soon.

How could she get Doug to propose? They’d been seeing each other for six months now, and she didn’t doubt that his intentions were honest. For some reason, he seemed reluctant to take that final step. Was he uncertain about her? Was he afraid to ask? She needed advice on how to move him along—a man’s advice. Someone who could give her insight into the male heart and guidance on how to sway it.

When they got back to Heller, the car ground to a halt, and Jack circled around the car to open the door for her. As he helped her step down, a dangerous, brilliant idea popped into her head.

2

As Jack clocked out, his mind was on Constance.

Poor kid. It was her first day on the job, and something like this had to happen. She was a real trooper for sticking it out for the rest of the day. When he came by her desk, ready for their drive home, she looked as calm and collected as she ever had. Professional. Poised.