Finding Grace: A Novel (34 page)

"I'm sorry. I don’t like to be mean. I just
can’t help how I am.” She looked at her knees, trying to keep her
composure by focusing intently on something. She felt the burn of
tears, but fought to keep them at bay. He already thought her weak,
and tears would only confirm it for him. At long last, she heard
him speak…and his voice turned calm and soothing.

"We all have our ways. Change is never easy
for any of us."

Her voice wavered slightly.

"No, it's not.” She reached up to wipe away
a tear that had escaped, hoping he didn't take much notice of it.
If he did, he said nothing. He just reached his hand forward to
turn the key in the ignition. And without speaking he backed out
and slowly drove away.

* * * * *

They rode in silence for some time, each
thinking their own separate thoughts. She was focused on the road
ahead and the passing of the scene outside her window. They were
leaving the city, as he’d said, and with great curiosity she
wondered what he had in store for her. There was no way of knowing,
even if she asked him, for she was certain he would never tell
until he got her where he wanted her. So she just sat quietly and
waited, as they made their way down a small town road, and soon
turned down a long and winding drive. It wasn't long at all before
she realized they were at a small airport. She'd never actually
seen one before, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. Looking out
at the numerous aircraft before her, she felt a nervous knot
starting to form in her belly. She looked over at him, seeing the
hint of a smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you up to, bringing me here?"

He pulled the car to a stop. “Did I ever
tell you about my love of flying? I’ve become quite good at it over
the last few years.”

Her heart beat fast with anxiety at what he
was hinting at. "You're not going to make me get in one of those,
are you?"

His reply was calm. "I'm not going to make
you do anything. But it won't hurt to take a look, now will it?" He
got out and came round to her side of the car, opening the door and
waiting patiently. She sat still for a moment, unsure of what to
do. Her fear of the unknown was strong, but so was her curiosity.
It was the chance to do and see something that so very few people
got to do. Still she hesitated. Then she heard him sigh.

"Coward," he said…and her response was an
indignant cry.

"What did you call me?"

"Oh I'm sorry. Chicken…that is what I should
have said. Something you can relate to, little farm girl."

"I am not a chicken!"

He nodded. "Yes you are.
They don't fly. They run away at the slightest little thing. So
that
does
make you
a chicken."

She was no fool. She knew he was just
baiting her. And yet, she could not stand the thought of his being
right about her cowardice. Yes, she could probably take the high
road and not give in to his challenge. But that seemed so dull, and
her rebellious nature got the better of her.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go. But if I die of
fright, it’ll be your fault. And when I’m in heaven I’ll be looking
down laughing while my brother sends you to meet me.”

His smile was impish. "Who says that's where
I'll end up?"

They walked together to one of the hangars,
where a man was coming forward to meet them. He shook Henry's hand,
and hers, and the two men had a brief conversation about the plane
that sat nearby. She hardly heard the words, as madly as her heart
was beating at the thought of flying. From what little that
registered in her head, she learned that Henry had been a pilot for
some years. There was also a comment about someone named Charles
Lindbergh, but she had no idea who he was and what he had to do
with anything.

The man handed Henry two pairs of strange
looking eyewear…goggles, he called them. When he placed them on her
head, covering her eyes with the lenses, she tensed at the strange
sensation.

“
What are these funny things
for?”

He smirked. “They’re a fashion
statement.”

Beneath the goggles, her eyes rolled.

Just moments later she was being helped into
the little pit in the front of the plane, and Henry was getting in
the one behind her. It seemed strange to sit in front.

“
I’m not supposed to operate
this thing, am I? There’s no steering, no dials. How does it
work?”

“
Don’t worry,” he replied.
“I’m running the show. This rig operates with a backseat
driver.”

That hardly calmed her. Her heart beat so
that she feared it might leap from her body, and when the engine
and propeller roared to life, she nearly jumped out of her seat and
fled. She felt a little tap on her shoulder, and she turned her
head as far as she could, for the way she sat it was impossible to
turn all the way around. She could only hear his voice.

"Relax," was all he said.

She turned back, her reply bitter. "Thanks
for the advice."

He laughed, though she could hardly hear it
over the noise. She closed her eyes, and clutched the cross at her
throat. Then they began to move.

She opened her eyes, realizing how slow they
seemed to be going. And, they were still on the ground. Her
shoulders slumped a little in relief, thinking that maybe it had
all been a trick. He couldn't get this contraption up in the
air…all he was going to do was drive around the place, and that was
just fine with her. They stopped then, and she waited. Nothing
happened. She shouted over the noise.

"Is that it?"

He didn't answer. Then a moment later they
were suddenly racing forward at a terrifying speed, the ground and
the land around them whipping by her in a blur. Her breath caught,
for she knew that something monumental was about to happen, and a
moment later she felt her stomach rise up near her throat as they
escaped the bonds of the earth. She ducked her head down and closed
her eyes, terrified for her very life. Then she heard him shouting
from behind her.

"Open your eyes, little chicken! See the
world the way the real birds do!"

She felt the air across her face, and she
sat up, eyes still closed. But very slowly she allowed them to
open, and she gasped as she saw the earth falling away beneath
them, the blue of the sky all around. They seemed to float in the
very air, and her fear faded into wonder as she looked around at
the heavens. For a time they drifted along the sky, peacefully and
calmly. Then the plane ducked down, and she gasped at the motion of
it…terrified that they were descending into a crash. But as they
came up in a smooth motion, she caught the sound of his laughter on
the wind.

He’d dipped the plane that way on purpose.
And she wanted to be mad at him for it…but it was impossible. This
moment was too thrilling to feel anything but absolute joy and
excitement. With him, she was safe…and free.

When they banked in a turn she found herself
gasping not in fear, but in delight.

So this is what it is to be
a bird,
she marveled.

How she had so often dreamed of such a
freedom, watching hawks and sparrows take to wing and soar though
the sky. Now, here she was…and the feeling was beyond anything
words could describe.

All too soon they were drifting down to the
ground, and she found a great disappointment in coming to the end
of the marvelous journey. She clung to every last moment, until the
wheels hit the pavement and the reality of the earth was brought
back to her. How heavy and oppressive it all felt now, after
soaring so freely in the clouds. Yet, she could not be melancholy.
Her entire being felt alive and exhilarated from the experience,
and as she stood when the plane stopped, her legs wobbled slightly.
She watched Henry put his legs over the side and slide easily to
the ground. Then he came to her with open arms to help her down.
Almost without thinking she leaned in to rest her hands on his
shoulders, and she felt his hands grip her waist and easily lift
her down. She could feel nothing but elation, even as he leaned in
close to her and smiled. She could not help but look up at him and
return the gesture. For the first time, she looked in his eyes and
felt no fear, no mistrust. All she could feel was happiness, and a
realization that she would never love anyone in the world as she
loved him. He reached up slowly, running his fingertips along her
cheek.

“
Tell me the truth.” His
voice was almost a whisper. “Is there anyone else who can make you
feel like I do?”

She could not answer, could not speak. Her
eyes were locked with his, rendering her motionless. Of their own
power her eyelids closed, as he leaned against her, gently but
insistently. Then she felt his lips pressed to hers, and the memory
of that first kiss came to her with all its force and fire. In
another moment she found she could not think of anything but
leaning her own figure into his, bringing her arms and hands up
around his neck, kissing him back with all the passion and feeling
she’d been holding back for so long.

* * * * *

He slowly pulled away from
the kiss. Not that he wanted to…oh no, quite the contrary. He had
so often recalled the softness of her lips, of how they felt so
warm against his own. And they
were
soft and warm…yielding, pressing to his firmly
after only a slight hesitation. He could have kissed her again, and
yet again, held onto her for longer, relishing in the feel of her
arms around him. But deep down he knew that he must pull back, if
only to give them both the chance to take a breath. When he
released her she swayed, declaring that she thought she might
faint. He smiled as she leaned against him for support. She rested
her head against his shoulder, letting out a little sigh, and he
felt her cheek pressing there, warmly and insistently.

This was the woman he wanted. This warm,
tender being…loving and unafraid of being loved. He took in a deep
breath, pressing his cheek upon her hair. For quite some time they
remained that way, quietly holding one another. When one of them
spoke, it was he who broke the silence first.

"What are you thinking about?"

It was a moment more before she replied, and
her voice was soft. "You." She kept her head against him, but he
knew she smiled. He heard it in her voice.

"I was thinking of the first time I saw you,
that day at the station. I thought you were the most beautiful
thing I'd ever seen in my life." She leaned back in his arms,
looking up at him… and her smile lessened somewhat. "Until you
spoke".

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Until I spoke?"

"Well," she said, "It wasn't what you said,
so much as how you said it. You had this kind of look about you,
like you couldn't be bothered with anyone. Especially someone like
me. You looked at me like I was a stray dog or something."

Knowing that he risked triggering her
temper, or worse, being on the receiving end of her hand, he
grinned at her statement. And he took further chance by saying,
quite boldly…

"You know, you were something like a stray
dog."

At that, her eyes widened indignantly and
her mouth fell slightly open, but still he spoke. "You were kind of
cute and shabby, and a total pain in the neck. And then there was
the way you came running after me, begging for help, looking at me
with those great big eyes. All you needed was four feet and a
wagging tail." Even as he said it, he knew she would come back at
him with something sharp and direct, like a duelist whose sword
hits mark for mark. She did not disappoint.

"All you needed was a long bushy tail, four
shod hooves, and a pair of long ears.” She thrust her finger into
his shoulder for emphasis. “You jackass in a man's suit."

He laughed softly. It was one of the things
he so adored about her…the way she could match him beat for beat.
Most women had never understood the wickedness of his humor. With
them, he risked hurting their feelings and seeing them fall into a
fit of misty eyed dramatics. But not with her. If by chance he did
ever hurt her feelings, he knew she would come back and hurt his as
badly, and failing that, she would have blackened his eye or
bloodied his nose. But under that tough as nails demeanor, he saw a
fragile spirit, yearning for acceptance and love. She
wanted…hungered for…the simple contact of a human touch. One that
was not brought against her in harm or coldness, but in warmth and
gentleness. He wanted to be the one, the only one, to give her
that. Gently cupping her face in his hands, his smile fell away.
His eyes burned with an intense light as he looked at her.

"I know you've been hurt before. Not just by
Charlie, but by others. People who were suppose to love you, to
take care of you as best they could. They shook your faith, made
you afraid to trust. But I swear to you, here and now, that I will
never do that to you."

Once more, he slowly brought his lips to
hers. He leaned into her, thrilling at the feel of her body against
his, and now she did not seem to hesitate as before. She pressed
against him eagerly now, kissing him back, and caressing the back
of his neck with warm hands. But somewhere in their fog of passion,
a glimmer of reason asserted itself. She was so young, so
inexperienced with these feelings, and he knew all too well how
overwhelming they could be. He knew, too, that if he wanted to take
advantage of such naiveté, it would not have been difficult. How
ardent and generous a lover she would be! Pure passion was in her
nature, and the thought of it sent a tremor of excitement through
him, making him cling to her more closely. But such delights of the
flesh would only be for a time. When reality came crashing down,
she would despise him as much as he despised himself for such
thoughtlessness. And he wanted so much more from her than a
meaningless tryst. He wanted her heart and soul, as he would give
her his, and only through complete honesty and trust could they
achieve such a union. Agonizing as it was to do, he pulled away
from the kiss. Leaning his forehead against hers, breathing deeply
to calm himself, it was a long moment before he spoke. At last, he
took mastery of his voice.