Wings

“No different than being married to you would have been,” she came back at him quickly. “You're both spoiled boys who want everything your own way. Maybe all men are like that, rich or poor,” she said, meeting his gaze, and he laughed at her. She hadn't lost her spirit.

“Touche. I wish I could be happy for you, Cass, but I'm not.”

“Try. We don't have any other choice.” She had to live up to the choice she'd made. For all their sakes. She was an honorable woman. He nodded then, and eventually they walked back slowly, holding hands in the starlit night and talking. He realized more than ever what a fool he'd been, but he had made his decisions for her, and look what had happened. Her father had been right. He had set her free, and she had married someone else. But Desmond Williams… he hated everything he knew about him. And he was convinced to his bones that he was using Cassie. And she was much too young and innocent to know it. He was forty years old and he could read Desmond like the front page of the New York Times. And so far, Nick didn't like the headlines.

Cassie said good night to him on the front porch, and they didn't kiss again. And it was only after she had gone inside that Nick saw his old friend, quietly sitting in a chair and watching.

“Keeping an eye on me, Ace?” Nick asked with a tired grin, and sat down in a chair near him.

“I am. I told Cassie months ago I'll not have her defiling her marriage.”

“She's not going to. She's a good girl. And I'm a fool. You were right, Pat.”

“I was afraid I would be.” And then, in the partnership among men, he was honest with his old friend, the boy who had been his protege in another war, a quarter of a century before. “The worst of it for her is that she still loves you. You can see it. Is she happy with him?” Pat asked him conspiratorially.

“I don't think so. But she thinks she owes him everything.”

“She owes him a lot, Nick. There's no denying it.”

“And if she gets hurt?” Nick didn't want to say “killed” to her father. But it could happen, and they knew it. “What do we owe him then?”

“It's the risk we all take, Nick. You know it. She knows what she wants and she knows what she's doing. The only thing she's not sure about is you.”

“Neither am I. I still wouldn't have married her by now. I didn't want to leave her a widow.” He laughed emptily then. “I thought I was too old for her, but hell, he's almost as old as I am.”

“We're all fools. I almost didn't marry Oona thirty-two years ago. I thought she was too good for me, and my mother told me I was crazy. She told me to go for the brass ring. I was right. She is too good for me… but I love the girl… to this day, I've never regretted a single day of our marriage.” It was more than he had ever said to her, and the advice was too late for Nick. For now anyway. But if Nick was right about Desmond tossing Cassie aside, maybe she'd be free again someday. It was hard to say now.

They sat on the porch together and talked for a long time, and Nick noticed when they stood up that Pat was a little breathless. That was something new for him, and Nick didn't like it.

“You been sick, Ace?”

“Ahh… nothing much… a little influenza, a little cough… I'm getting too fat, Oona's cooking's too good. I get breathless sometimes. It's nothing.”

“Take it easy,” Nick said with a worried frown.

“Tell yourself,” Fat laughed at him, “shooting Jerries all day. I'd say you've got a lot more to worry about than I do.”

Nick nodded, grateful for the things Pat had said to him about Cassie. “Good night, Ace. See you tomorrow.”

Nick walked all the way back to his shack, and everything in it was dusty. He hadn't been home in a year, but it felt good to be there. Everything felt good to him, except the fact that Cassie was married. He still couldn't believe it. He lay in his familiar bed that night, aching for her, unable to believe that she belonged to someone else now… that sweet face… the little girl he had loved so much was no longer his, and never would be again. She was Desmond's. And as he fell asleep that night, the tears rolled slowly from his eyes and into his pillow.

17

The weekend at home turned out to be difficult for both of them. Cassie made every effort to stay away from Nick, but their world was too small. And they kept running into each other everywhere, at the house, at the airport, even at the grocery store when she did some shopping for her mother. And he tried to be respectful of her, for her sake, if not for Desmond, but it was impossible. They wound up in each other's arms again the night before she left. It was the night of her twenty-second birthday. He'd had dinner with her and her family. And all through the meal, they were inexorably drawn to each other like magnets. They knew it was their last night to see each other, and there might never be another chance again. The very thought of that made them panic.

“We can't do this, Nick,” she said after kissing him longingly. “I promised Dad I wouldn't. And I can't do it for me… or to Desmond.” And the way the press followed her around, all she needed was a scandal. They had tried to get pictures of everyone at the airport today, but Nick had disappeared discreetly into his shack until the photographers left and then he emerged again, and she was grateful. She knew that Desmond would have been very upset to see Nick in the pictures. She hadn't told him Nick was home when she called him.

“I know, Cassie… I know.” Nick didn't argue with her. He didn't want to hurt her. They sat on the porch and talked. Her parents had gone to bed an hour before but they hadn't said anything when Nick had stayed to talk to Cassie. She was leaving the next day and it was their last chance to be together.

“Are you sure you're ready for the tour? Billy says your plane is heavy as hell.”

“I can handle it.”

He didn't argue with her about it this time. “Is your route safe?”

“It better be. Desmond works on it every night until midnight.”

‘That must be fun for you,” he said smartly, and then he smiled at her ruefully. “Damn fool. You could have had Bobby Strong and be selling onions, and what do you do? You marry the biggest tycoon in the country. Can't you do anything right, Cass?” he teased and she laughed. There was nothing laughable about it, but if they didn't laugh, they'd cry. Just in the few days that they'd both been in town, it was obvious to both of them that they were cursed with loving each other forever. Each time they met, or looked into each other's eyes, the power of what they felt for each other brought them closer. There was no escaping it. And Cassie realized now that it wasn't something time would change. She and Nick were part of each other. They always would be. There was no denying it anymore. She had never loved Nick more, and now she had to live with the agony of loving Nick and not wanting to betray Desmond.

But on this last night, they both knew this was their only chance to be together, and perhaps their last one. He was returning to the war to risk his life again, and she was taking every chance possible, flying across the Pacific. It was too late for games, or even anger anymore. They just had to live with what they'd done. They had both been foolish, and they knew it.

“What are we going to do, Cass?” he asked unhappily, as they looked at a full moon in a starry sky. It was a perfect night to be in love, but their story was no longer simple. They both longed for the early days when they had spent hours together at the deserted airstrip. They could have done anything then. And instead, they had made such stupid choices, he to fight another war, and she to marry a man she cared for, but didn't love. She knew only too well that despite all her loyalty to Desmond, Nick was the only man she loved or ever would. Maybe one day it would change, but it hadn't yet, and she didn't think it would for a long time, if ever. She'd been kidding herself when she married Desmond, and now that she saw Nick again, she knew it.

“I wish I were going back to England with you,” she said sadly.

“So do I. There are no women flying in combat over there. Not yet anyway, but the limeys are pretty open- minded.”

“Maybe I should run away and join the RAF,” she said, only half serious. She couldn't see how she was going to live her life now. In a way, she was grateful for the tour. At least it would keep her busy, and away from Desmond.

“Maybe I never should have gone in the first place,” he said, surprising her totally. And listening to him worried her. If he lost heart now, he could get hurt. She had heard too many stories like that, of men who lost their