Page 83 of Plane Passion

Millie bit her lip and clutched the stick as Rory released the fluttering blue scarf in the distance. Time seemed to slow down as Millie watched its descent. And then it landed…in the circle!

They’d done it! One minor mishap, but they’d done it! One final loop-the-loop, and then it was time to come in for a landing.

As Millie swooped down to the field, elation flooded her veins. Whether their performance was enough to win over Congress and Mr. Burleson, she’d given it everything she had and made some amazing new friends along the way. If only Ernie had been here, everything would have been perfect, but hopefully she would see him soon enough.

She touched down and rolled to a halt, waiting until her propeller stopped spinning to descend from the plane.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the show of a lifetime put on by these four amazing daredevils you see before you.” Beth’s voice reverberated on the loudspeaker as Millie made her way to the podium.

Her legs were made of jelly as Beth and Evelyn stepped back to make room for her. “Thank you all for coming today. I hope our performance convinced you of the possibilities of flight. The airmail operation could do so much more with your support, especially if you let more lady pilots join their ranks. I think we’ve proven today that we can fly with the best of them.”

The audience exploded in applause, rising to their feet and crowding around her as she walked out into the stands toward Burleson, whom she had spotted in the third row. It took her several minutes to make her way through the well-wishers and reach him. His gaze was just as stony and unforgiving as ever.

“Miss Aldrich, so good to see you again.” He didn’t look pleased in the least.

“Mr. Burleson, thank you so much for coming. I hope we’ve done enough to convince you to let women become airmail pilots…and to give Ernie Pritchard his job back.” This was the moment when she’d either triumph or despair. There was nothing more she could do. Her fate hung in the balance.

Mrs. Belmont and several senators looked on, observing their interaction with keen interest. A man in a gray pinstripe suit with a distinguished gray beard leaned in and said, “Albert, Mrs. Belmont here is a great supporter of mine, and she says you should listen to Miss Aldrich. I think today has proven that women can fly the mail. And with the women’s vote behind us, I think we can line up the necessary appropriations to continue and expand the airmail operation.”

Triumph! Provided Mr. Burleson agreed.

Mr. Burleson looked at her long and hard as she held her breath. “Of course, Senator,” he said at last, and her heart soared. “Young lady, come by my office on Monday morning at eight o’clock sharp to discuss the details. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t, Mr. Burleson. You won’t regret this.” She’d done it. They’d done it. With the help of her amazing friends, old and new, they’d busted through the barrier that held them back.

“I regret it already,” he grumbled and turned to leave.

Of course he regretted it. Every step forward for women would be hard won, and this was no exception. But it was a battle worth fighting, and they’d won the day despite the odds.

And then there was Ernie. She’d done this for women, but she’d also done it for him. Would it be enough for him to forgive her after the way she’d treated him? One way or another, she would find out on Monday.

29

Ernie walked through the front door at the end of a long Monday, dirty and exhausted once again, and Constance practically pounced on him. “Mr. Burleson called. He says he wants to speak to you.”

That got his attention. Why would the postmaster general call? He’d never spoken to the man before.

“He asked to speak with you at your earliest convenience,” Constance said, grinning.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Constance. It’s probably nothing important. I’ll give him a call first thing tomorrow.” It was too late now. It was practically dinner time.

“But maybe he’ll give you your job back.” She looked far too eager and hopeful for his liking.

“I burned that bridge when I got caught with Millie. There’s no way he’s letting me back now.”

Constance’s face fell, but she nodded. “I should let you go upstairs to shower. See you at dinner?”

He didn’t particularly want to eat, but he knew his family would never let him get away with refusing.

“Of course. See you in a bit.”

Making his way up to the bathroom, he pondered all the possible reasons his former boss might call. Was it at all possible there was good news? He hardly dared hope. It was probably nothing—some minor bureaucratic detail that had to be wound up regarding his departure.

Shedding his clothes, he turned on the tap and stepped into the hot shower. Water dripped down his aching muscles, leaching away the soreness. Thoughts of Millie began to intrude. Imagined hands massaged his back and shoulders. Then they wandered to his chest, caressing as ghostly lips kissed his neck. One hand traveled down and⁠—

No.

He adjusted the temperature of the water to cold and quickly finished his ablutions.