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One simple thought about the unusual freight blew her concentration. Her attention winged straight back to the cargo hold of dolphins and their spiky-haired trainer.
“Think about flying,” she whispered, chanting, “charts, airspeed, whiz wheels, flight times.”
The 4:00 a.m. takeoff from coastal San Diego would keep them in the dark as they chased time zones west. Even with their twelve hours in the air, the sun would only just be rising in Guam once they landed. Then she wouldn’t have the distractions of instrumentation checks and flight schedules to keep her thoughts from lofting along tempting routes. Sure the dolphin doctor’s eyes had blazed interest initially. Until his brief. Then she might as well have been stuck behind a Vulcan cloaking device for all the notice he took of her.
Darcy sighed and wondered why the usual spice of flying seemed flat tonight, like unsalted sunflower seeds. She lived for these moments in the air. She’d fought a major battle with her father over entering pilot training. Of course Pops had won big-time this week by keeping her out of any real war.
Irritation tightened her grip on the stick.
Bronco shut his book. “Have I showed you the latest pictures of Kathleen and the baby at the beach?”
“Yes!” Darcy and Crusty said. The headset echoed with the loadmaster’s affirmative from the back.
“Oh.” Bronco deflated like a parachute deprived of wind.
Darcy flipped the autopilot switch and wriggled her fingers for the pictures. “But I’d love to see them again.”
A smile wreathed Bronco’s big mug as he passed over his cell phone. “Just for that, my now favorite copilot, you get the takeoff when we leave Guam, while ol’ Crusty there warms that jump seat again.”
Anticipation fired through her. A takeoff was a rare thrill for any copilot. Training requirements called for copilots to log more landings than takeoffs. Which logistically made sense because the aircraft commander would always be on hand for takeoff, but a copilot needed to be prepared to land if the senior pilot became incapacitated. Or was shot in combat.
The possibility of an imminent war-zone assignment clenched inside her as tightly as her white-knuckled fist on the beach pictures. Not that she was afraid, she told herself. No way. A Renshaw showed no fear. She wanted a chance to make a difference in Cantou like her bomber navigator brother and fighter pilot sister. They didn’t have to battle their dad for every walk on the edge the way Darcy did.
She needed this chance to reconcile her past.
All the more reason to look forward to that takeoff from Guam. Except, when she left, she would say goodbye to the aloof professor. Her sweaty palms stuck to the phone.
Bronco jabbed a beefy finger toward an image of an infant wearing a sunbonnet by the ocean. “That’s Tara taking her first swim.”
The fella looked so darn proud, she didn’t dare pick at him for stating the obvious. “Cool. Maybe you can sign her up for one of those baby swimming classes.”
“Already on the schedule at the base pool.”
“I’ll be waiting for the pictures.” She scrolled through the images with her thumb.
No landmark occasion recorded. Just twenty-four near-identical shots of a redheaded mother sitting on a beach towel with a chubby baby. Nothing much, but somehow it pricked at Darcy, revealing an emptiness she didn’t dare call loneliness. Since she never allowed relationships into the workplace and she always worked, her social life sucked. Which meant she would just have to live with that emptiness and get on with her job.
Or maybe not.
Her memory filled with that momentary flash of interest in Max Keagan’s eyes. Okay, so he’d backed off once he’d stepped up to brief the crew, but she hadn’t misread the attraction she’d seen. Barely twenty-four hours after her great resolve for going after what she wanted and already she’d surrendered at the first sign of resistance.
She wasn’t looking to make her own picture-perfect memories with the guy, not at the expense of losing focus on her career. She just wanted something to fill that lonely corner of herself. A relationship with a man that went beyond big-brother teasing, if only for the duration of her stay in Guam.
Step it up, soldier. Winners never quit and quitters never win.Time for a jaunt to the cargo hold.
Darcy passed back the phone. “Crusty, are you sick of that jump seat yet? I need to stretch my legs.”
Bronco tapped his headset. “Hey, Crusty, is this thing working right? I could have sworn I heard Wren give up the stick. Voluntarily.”
“Yeah, man. I heard the same thing. Too bad we don’t have a doc on board to check her temp— Hey wait, Bronco.” Crusty gasped in mock surprise. “Wedohave a doctor on board.”
“Imagine that,” Bronco answered. “Do you think that’s why she needs a little stroll in back?”
“You are a genius, my friend.”
“Seems we have some private maneuvers already in action on this mission.”
Darcy vowed to sabotage their flight lunches. Except she knew they only teased people they liked. Great. Lucky for her, apparently she really was their favorite copilot. “Funny, guys. With pitiful jokes like that, you should take your show on the road.” Darcy flipped the auto pilot switch off. “Bronco, do you have the jet?”
