32

ALLIE PUT THE CAR IN PARK AND TURNED TO SEE CONNOR APPROACHING her. He looked like an Eddie Bauer ad—crisp khakis, white polo glowing in the early evening sun, light tan, easy smile crinkling the corners of his chestnut eyes.

She got out of the car and gave him a hug. She held it a little too long, but didn’t care. “Good to see you.”

“You too.” He put a hand in the small of her back and guided her around the corner of the building. “We’ve got an 8:30 reservation, so let’s get right up in the air. I’ve got the plane out and ready to go.”

They reached the open area behind the building and Allie saw the plane. She didn’t know much about World War II aircraft, so she had vaguely expected Connor’s plane to look old. Maybe a biplane or something with an open cockpit and a boxy, cloth-covered fuselage. But what she saw looked more like a steel shark with wings. She smiled in anticipation.

Connor turned to her and grinned. “Ever get sick on a roller coaster?”

“Nope. Iron stomach.”

“Good.”

They got closer to the plane, and she could see White Knight painted on the nose in Gothic script. She stifled a laugh.

Connor gave her a startled look. “What’s funny?”

She nodded at the plane. “White Knight. It’s just very, very you.” If only he could save her. No, she wasn’t going to think about that. Just enjoy today.

His smile returned. “Thanks. It was also very much my grandfather. He named it in honor of the fighter pilots he knew. Called them knights of the air.”

He gestured to a spot on the wing with the words “Step Here” stenciled on it. “In you go. The rear seat is yours. Sorry it’s a little cramped. P-51s are single-seaters, so it wasn’t designed for that jump seat.”

Allie carefully squeezed into the narrow space, regretting that she hadn’t spent more time in the gym. But once she was in, it was surprisingly comfortable. The custom leather seat cocooned her nicely between the rear of the cockpit and the back side of the pilot’s seat.

Connor climbed into his seat, put on a headset, and buckled himself in. He started the engine and taxied to the runway. Then he opened the throttle and a deep roar filled the plane. Allie’s entire body thrummed with the power of the P-51.

The plane jumped forward and accelerated down the tarmac. A giant invisible hand pressed Allie back into her seat. She felt the plane tip forward as the tail left the ground. A second later, the P-51 left the ground and soared into the bright azure sky.

Allie had flown dozens of times before, but those had all been commercial airliners. Those were about as similar to Connor’s fighter as a commuter train is to a Corvette. She could really feel that she was flying in this plane—not just sitting in a cramped bus seat that happened to have a 30,000 foot view out the window.

“We’ve got clearance for aerobatics,” Connor shouted over his shoulder. “Want to have some fun?”

“Sure!” she yelled back.

The word was hardly out of her mouth when the plane nosed up and the world wheeled under her. She suddenly found herself hanging from her seatbelts and she looked up—down?— through the canopy to see vine-covered hills rushing by. Then the plane rolled to the side and she was upright again.

Connor turned and called over his shoulder. “That’s called an Immelmann. And this is called a split-S.”

He flipped the plane upside down again and rolled it into a tight half loop that righted it and reversed their direction.

Allie laughed with the pure joy and freedom of the moment. All her problems and hurts seemed a million miles away, part of a different, earth-bound world. “This is great! I never want to land!”

“You like it?”

She laughed again. “I love it! This is better than a roller-coaster with no rails!” It was even better because it was with him.

The next hour went by in a blur. They slalomed through wisps of cloud at 300 miles an hour. They dove down and roared over pastures just above the treetops, so low that Allie could see the faces of the cows looking up as they passed. They made slow passes through the steep-walled canyons Connor had hiked and camped in as a boy.

And then it was over. The red light of sunset turned the runway deep crimson as Connor brought the plane in for a feather-light landing. He taxied over to the hangar and then killed the engine.

The silence rang in Allie’s ears. Connor slid back the canopy and a warm evening breeze wafted into the cockpit, carrying the faint scent of gasoline and hot asphalt. The dirty, painful, complicated earth-bound world swallowed her up again. She sighed, unbuckled herself, and searched for some way to lever herself out of the snug seat.

“Getting out of there can be a bit of a trick.”

She looked up and saw Connor already out of the cockpit and standing on the wing. He smiled and reached out to help her. She took his hand. It was warm and strong and she didn’t want to let it go. He pulled her to her feet in a smooth, strong motion.

She stood on the wing, still holding his hand. They were so close that his face filled her vision and the scent of his Armani cologne surrounded her. She looked up into his eyes and for a moment she was flying again.

But the moment passed. He stepped back and released her hand. “Everyone gets stuck the first time.”

“Thanks.” Too bad there wouldn’t be a second time.