“I hope you're wrong,” she said softly. If he wasn't, it meant that all the handsome young men standing around the room would be in grave danger. The entire world, as they knew it, would be profoundly challenged, and ultimately changed. “Do you really think we'll enter the war?” she asked, looking worried, forgetting their surroundings for an instant, and thinking of far more serious matters. The war had already spread in Europe to a frightening degree.

“Yes, I do, Kate.” She loved the way he looked at her when he said her name. There were a great many things she liked about him.

“I hope you're wrong,” she said quietly.

“So do I.”

And then, she did something she had never done before, but she felt comfortable with him. “Would you like to go into the ballroom and dance?” She felt suddenly as though she had found a friend, but Joe looked uncomfortable at the suggestion, and stared down at his plate, before glancing back at her. He was not in his element here.

“I don't know how,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed, and much to his relief, she didn't laugh at him, but she looked surprised.

“You don't? I'll teach you. It's pretty easy, you just shuffle around and look like you're having a good time.” Dancing with her, that part at least would be simple, but not the rest.

“I think I'd better not. I'd probably step on your feet.” He glanced down and saw that she was wearing delicate pale blue satin evening shoes. “I should probably let you go back to your friends.” He hadn't spent as long talking to anyone in years, and surely not a girl her age, although he still had no idea that she was only seventeen.

“Am I boring you?” she asked bluntly, with a look of concern. She felt as if he was dismissing her, and she wondered if she had offended him by asking him to dance.

“Hell, no,” he said laughing, and then looked even more embarrassed by what he'd said. He was far more used to airplane hangars than to ballrooms, but all things considered, he was actually having a good time. And no one was more surprised than he. “You're anything but boring. I just thought you might like to dance with someone who can dance.” He and Charles had that in common too. Charles also didn't dance.

“I've already danced a lot this evening.” It was nearly midnight, she hadn't gone to the buffet until then. “What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“Fly,” he said with a shy smile. It was easy being with her, and talking about airplanes was all he knew how to do. “What about you?”

“I like to read, and travel, and play tennis. And in the winter, I ski. I play golf with my father, but I'm not very good at it. And I used to love to skate when I was a little kid. I would have played hockey, but my mother had a fit and wouldn't let me.”

“That was smart of her, you'd have wound up with no teeth.” Clearly, from her dazzling smile, he could see that she hadn't played hockey. “Do you drive?” he asked, as he sat back in his chair. For a crazy moment, he was wondering if she'd like to learn how to fly. But Kate smiled.

“I got my license last year when I turned sixteen, but my father doesn't like me to use the car. He taught me at Cape Cod in the summer. There's no traffic and it's easier there.” Joe nodded but looked startled by what she'd said.

“How old are you?” He had been sure that she was in her mid-twenties. She looked so grown-up, and she was so at ease with him.

“Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in a few months. How old did you think I was?” She was flattered that he looked so surprised.

“I don't know… maybe twenty-three … twenty-five. They shouldn't let kids your age out in dresses like that. You're going to confuse some old man like me.” He didn't look old to her, especially when he looked shy and awkward and boyish, which he often did. Every few minutes, he would look ill at ease for an instant, and look away, and then he'd recover himself and look her in the eye again. She liked his shyness. It was an interesting counterpoint to his flying expertise, and suggested humility.

“How old are you, Joe?”

“Twenty-nine. Nearly thirty. I've been flying since I was sixteen. I was wondering if you'd like to fly with me sometime. But I guess your parents might not like it.”

“My mother wouldn't. But my father would think it was fun. He talks about Lindbergh all the time.”

“Maybe I could teach you to fly someday.” As he said it, his eyes were filled with dreams. He had never taught a girl to fly before, although he knew plenty of female pilots, he and Amelia Earhart had been old friends before she disappeared three years before, and he had flown with Charles's friend Edna Gardner Whyte several times, Joe thought her nearly as impressive as Charles. She had won her first daredevil solo race seven years before, and was training military pilots. She was very fond of Joe.

“Do you ever come to Boston?” Kate asked hopefully, looking suddenly young again, as he smiled. There was something exciting and feminine and youthful about her, and at the same time, he found her remarkably poised.

“Once in a while. I have friends on the Cape. I stayed with them last year. But I'll be in California for the next few months. I could give you a call when I get back. Maybe your father would like to come with us too.”

“He'd love that,” she said warmly. To Kate, it sounded like a fine idea. All she could think of now was how they would sell it to her mother. But who knew if he'd really call her. Probably not.

“Do you go to school?” he asked with a curious expression, and she nodded. He had stopped his formal education at twenty, and the rest of his education he had gotten in planes, once Lindbergh took him under his wing.

“I'm going to college in the fall,” Kate said quietly.

“Do you know where?”

“I'm waiting to hear. I want to go to Radcliffe, my father went to Harvard. I'd go there too, if I could. But Radcliffe is close enough. My mother wants me to go to Vassar, which is where she went. I've applied there too. But I don't like it quite as much. I think I'd rather stay in Boston anyway. Or maybe Barnard here in New York. I like New York too. Do you?” Her eyes were wide as she asked him, and he was touched.

“I'm not so sure. I'm kind of a small-town guy,” but as he said it, she wasn't sure she agreed. It was where his roots were, but something about him suggested that he had outgrown small-town living more than he knew. He had become part of a much larger world, he just hadn't realized it himself yet, but she did.

They were still chatting about the virtues of Boston and New York when her father wandered over and she introduced him to Joe.

“I'm afraid I've been monopolizing your daughter,” Joe said, looking anxious. He was afraid Clarke Jamison was going to be annoyed with him because of her age, but it had been so easy talking to her. They had been sitting together for nearly two hours, when her father appeared.

“I can't say that I blame you,” her father said pleasantly. “She's good company. I wondered where she was, but I can see she's been in good hands.” He thought Joe seemed intelligent and polite, and when he heard his name, he was undeniably surprised. Clarke knew from what he'd read of him in the papers that he was a flying ace of considerable note, and wondered how he had happened on Kate, and if she knew who he was. Next to Lindbergh, he was one of the best, although less famous than he, but not by much. Clarke knew he had won cross-country flying races in Dutch Kindelberger's famous P-51 Mustang.

“Joe offered to take us flying sometime. Do you think Mom would have a fit?”

“In a word, yes,” her father laughed, “but maybe I can talk her into it.” And then he turned to Joe, “That's very kind of you to offer, Mr. Allbright. I'm a great admirer of yours, that was quite a record you broke recently”

Joe looked embarrassed at Clarke Jamison's praise, but pleased that he had known. Unlike Charles, Joe succeeded in avoiding the limelight whenever he could, but it was getting harder than ever after his recent feats.

“It was a great flight. I tried to get Charles to come along, but he was busy in Washington with the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics.”

Clarke nodded, impressed, and a lively discussion ensued about war developments in Europe, as Kate's mother joined them. She said it was getting late, and she wanted to go home. And a moment later, Clarke introduced Joe to his wife. He seemed shy, but very polite. And it was obvious that they were all ready to leave. Without a moment's hesitation, as they wandered toward the door, Clarke handed Joe his card. “Call us if you ever come to Boston,” he said hospitably, and Joe thanked him. “We'll see if we can take you up on your offer, or if nothing else, I will.” And with that, he gave Joe a wink, and the younger man laughed, as Kate smiled. Her father seemed to like Joe a lot. A moment later, Joe shook hands with her father, and said he was going to see if he could find Charles. He knew his mentor didn't like parties any better than he did, he was probably hiding somewhere, and it was hard to find anyone in the crowd. There were still at least five hundred people there, wandering between the house and the heated tent outside. And then, after saying goodnight to her mother, Joe turned to Kate.

“I enjoyed having dinner with you,” he said with eyes that bored into hers. They were like deep blue glowing coals. “I hope to see you again sometime.” He sounded as though he meant it, and she smiled. Of all the people she had met that night, he was the only one who had impressed her, by quite a lot. There was something very rare and remarkable about him, and she knew by the end of the evening that she had met an extraordinary man.

“Good luck in California,” she said softly, wondering if their paths would ever cross again. She was not at all sure he would call. He didn't seem like the type. He had his own world, his own passion, considerable success in his field, and it was unlikely that he would pursue a seventeen-year-old girl. In fact, she was almost certain, just from talking to him, that he would not.