Wings

She had had to wait for Nick to tell her he loved her, and then leave for the RAF. And she had had to wait for Desmond to let her fly his planes, and lie to her, and use her, and then finally tell her the truth of how little he cared for her. All her life she had had to wait for other people's decisions and manipulations. And even now, Nick knew where she was, he knew what she felt for him, but he never wrote her. The only thing he probably didn't know, since it had never been publicized, thanks to Desmond's good relations with the press, was that she had left him.

But she wasn't waiting anymore. It wasn't anyone else's decision this time. It was her turn. And ever since she had found out what a bastard Desmond had been, she had wanted to go to England. She had no idea what would happen when she got there, or what Nick would say. And she didn't care how old he was, or how young she was, or how much money he did or didn't have. All she knew was that she had to be there. She had a right to know what he felt for her. She had a right to a lot of things, she'd decided, and it was time for her to get them. This trip was one of them. It was just exactly what she wanted to be doing at that moment.

They left at five o'clock the next morning, and she found the flying challenging, though dull some of the time. She and her co-pilot chatted for a while, and he was impressed to realize who she was.

“I saw you at an air show once. You cleaned up everything. I think three firsts and a second.” It had been her last one. And he remembered correctly.

“I haven't done those in a while.”

‘they get old.”

“I lost my brother at the one the following year, it kind of took the fun out of them for me after that.”

“I'll bet.” And then he remembered the trick she had pulled, with admiration. “You almost ate it the time I saw you.”

“Nah, just looked like it,” she said modestly, and he laughed.

“Nervy broads. You guys are all the same. All guts and no brains.” He laughed and she grinned at him. To her, it was almost a compliment. She liked the guts part.

“Gee, thanks.” She smiled at him, and for an instant he reminded her of Billy.

“No problem.”

By the time they arrived over England, they had become friends, and she hoped to fly with him again. He was from Texas, and like all of them, had been flying since he was old enough to climb into the cockpit. He promised to look her up the next time he was in New Jersey.

They'd been lucky that night, there were no German pilots scouting for them. He'd gotten in a couple of dogfights before, and he was happy they hadn't for her first trip. “No big deal though,” he reassured her. And much to her delight, he let her land the plane, and she had no problem, despite her father's dire warnings. It was wonderful being treated as an equal.

She took the paperwork to the office they had told her to report to.

They thanked her politely for the paperwork, and handed her a slip of paper with her billeting. And as she walked back outside again, the pilot she'd flown over with invited her for breakfast. But she told him she had other plans. She did, but she wasn't sure where to start looking. She had his address but it meant nothing to her. Not yet, at least. She pulled the piece of paper she'd written it on out of her pocket, and was staring at it, fighting the exhaustion of the flight, when someone jostled her, and she looked up first in irritation, then in amazement.

It was ridiculous. Things didn't happen that way. It was too easy. He was standing there, staring down at her, looking as though he'd seen a ghost. No one had warned him she was coming. And there Cassie stood, in uniform, looking into the startled eyes of Major Nick Galvin.

“What are you doing here?” He said it as though he owned the place, and she laughed at him, her red hair framing her face as the autumn wind blew through it.

“Same thing you are.” More or less, except that his job was a lot more dangerous than hers. But they both had their jobs and their missions. And several ferry pilots had already been killed by Germans. ‘thanks for all the great letters, by the way. I really enjoyed them.” She tried to make light of the pain he had caused her by his silence.

He grinned boyishly at the comment. He could barely make himself listen to her, he was so overwhelmed with just seeing her again. The last time he had seen her was the morning after they had spent the night at their secret airstrip.

“I really enjoyed writing them to you.” He quipped back, but all he wanted to do now was reach out and touch her. He couldn't keep his eyes from her, his hands, his arms, his heart, his fingers. Instinctively, he reached out and touched her hair. It still felt like silk and looked like fire. “How are you, Cass?” he said softly, as people in uniform milled around them. Hornchurch was a busy place, but neither of them seemed to notice. They couldn't keep their eyes off each other. Despite the hardships they both had been through, nothing seemed to have changed between them.