Cassie felt as though part of herself had died, and as she followed the casket out of the church, she and her father had to hold up her mother. It was the worst thing Cassie had ever seen, the worst thing she'd ever been through.

And it was only as they left the church that she looked up and saw Desmond Williams. She couldn't even imagine how he had known, and then she realized the wire services had been there and it was probably all over the papers. She was a star now, and her brother's death in an air show was big news. But she was glad he had come anyway. There was something comforting about seeing him there. And she reached out to him as they left the church, and thanked him for coming. She asked him to come to the house afterward, with their other friends, and once he arrived she could tell him how much his coming meant to her. He nodded, and then she started to cry, and he just held her in his arms, feeling awkward. He didn't know what to say or do, he just held her, hoping that was enough. And then he saw her arm, and moved her gently.

“Are you all right? How bad is it?” He had been very worried when he heard she'd been burned trying to save her brother.

“I'm okay. Billy and I pulled him out, and… and… he was still burning.” The image she created was so horrible that it almost made him sick. But he was reassured when she told him the doctors weren't worried about her. He told her he wanted it checked out in LA when she got back. And he made a point of talking to her parents, and chatting with Billy for a while. And then he left. He said he was flying back that night. He had just wanted to be there for her, and she was glad he'd come. It meant a lot to her, and she told him.

‘Thank you, Desmond… for everything…” He didn't mention the world tour, but she knew it was on his mind. And she was still planning to talk to her father. But she had already told Desmond she wanted to stay home for a week or two, with them, and he told her to stay as long as she wanted.

She walked back outside with him, and he hugged her, and then he left, looking very somber. And when she went back inside, her father was crying and said that Chris had done it for him, and he should never have let him.

“He did it because he wanted to, Dad,” Cass said quietly, “We all do. You know that.” It was true in her case, but not in Chris's, but she felt she at least owed her father that. “He told me before he went up that he wanted to do it He liked it.” It was a lie, but a kind one.

“He did?” Her father looked surprised, but relieved as he dried his eyes, and took another shot of whiskey.

That was a nice thing you did for him,” Billy said to her later, and she only nodded, thinking of something else.

“I wish Nick were here,” she said quietly. And then Billy decided to tell her what he'd done.

“I sent him a telegram the night it happened. I think they're pretty reasonable about granting leave to volunteers. I don't know, I just thought…” He wasn't sure if she'd be mad at him, but it was obvious now that she wasn't.

“I'm glad you did,” she said gratefully, and stood around looking at their friends.

It was a miserable reason to get together. She wondered then if Nick would come, if he could get away, or they would let him.

She sat for hours with her parents that night, talking about Chris, and the things he'd done as a child. They cried and they laughed, and remembered the little things that meant so much to them now that he was no longer with them.

The next morning Cassie dropped by the hospital, to have them look at her arm. They changed the dressings for her and then she went back to the house to sit with her father.

He hadn't gone to the airport since the accident, and Billy was taking care of things for him. Cassie stopped there on the way, and Billy asked her how her dad was.

“Not so great.” He'd been drinking that morning when she left him after breakfast He just couldn't face what had happened yet. He only drank in moments of great stress or celebration, and when she went back, he was sitting alone in the living room and crying.

“Hi, Dad,” she said as she came in. She had lain awake all night, thinking of how she had resented Chris, of how often she had thought her father liked him better. She wondered if Chris had ever known it. She hoped not. “How're you feeling?”

He just shrugged and didn't bother to answer. She talked about some of their visitors then, and about stopping to see Billy at the airport. But for once, her father didn't ask how things were there.

“Did you see Desmond Williams here yesterday?” she said, groping for things to say to him as he looked up at her blankly. But at least this time he answered.

“Was he here?” She nodded, and sat down next to him. “That was nice of him. What's he like, Cass?” Her father had talked to him briefly, but he didn't remember in the agony of the day.

“He's very quiet, very honest… hardworking… lonely.” They were odd things to say about the man she worked for. “Driven, I guess, would be the right word. He lives for his business. It's all he has.”

‘That's sad for him,” he said, looking at her, and then he started to cry again, thinking about the air show. The poor kid had been only twenty. “It could have been you, Cass,” he said through his tears. “It could have been you last year. I was never so scared as when I watched you.”

“I know,” she smiled, “I scared the pants off Nick too, but I knew what I was doing.”

“That's what we all think,” he said gloomily. “Chris probably thought so too.”

“But he never did know, Dad. He wasn't like us.”

“I know,” he agreed. They all knew it too. Chris had really never known what he was doing. “I just keep thinking of how he looked when you and Billy pulled him out.” He looked sick as he thought about it, and not knowing what else to do, she poured him another drink. But by lunchtime, he was slurring and half asleep. And then finally, he dozed off, and she just let him sit there. Maybe the best thing for him was to sleep. Her mother came back that afternoon with two of Cassie's sisters, and by then her father was awake and had sobered up again. Cassie made them all something to eat, and then they sat talking quietly in the kitchen.

It was odd being with all of them, and Cassie realized that they seemed to be waiting for something. It was as though the reality of Chris's being gone hadn't sunk in yet, and everyone was waiting for him to come home, or for someone to tell them it hadn't happened. But it had. It had been as bad as it could have been. It couldn't have been much worse, except if he had suffered.

Glynnis and Megan left when Colleen arrived, with all her kids, and the brief chaos did them all good, and then finally they were alone again. Cassie cooked dinner for her parents, and she was glad she was there with them. She had no idea yet when she'd be leaving. Her mother cried again at the end of the meal, and Cassie put her to bed, like a child, but her father seemed better that night. He was calmer and very clear-headed, and he wanted to talk to her after Oona had gone to bed. He asked her about her work, and if she liked it, what kind of planes she'd been flying, and about her life in LA He knew the year was up and he wondered if Cassie would stay in LA or come home now. With Chris gone, his concerns were more poignant.

“I've been offered a new contract.” Cassie answered his question directly.

“What's he giving you?” he asked with interest.

“Double what he paid me last year,” she said proudly, “but I was going to send the difference to you and Mom. I really don't need it.”

“You might,” her father said gruffly. “You never know what can happen. Your sisters have their husbands to take care of them, but you, and Chris…” And then he caught himself and his eyes filled with tears again as she touched his hand and he held hers tightly. “I forget sometimes,” he said through his tears.

“I know, Daddy… so do I…” She had been thinking about Chris that afternoon, and wondered if he was in Walnut Grove with Jessie, and then she remembered. It was as though their hearts and minds just didn't want to accept it. She had talked to Jessie on the phone that afternoon, and she felt that way too. She said she kept listening for his truck. They all did.

“Anyway, I want you to keep the money,” Pat said firmly.

“That's silly.”

“Why is he paying you so much?” he asked with a worried frown. “He's not making you do anything dishonest, is he, Cass? Or too dangerous?”

“No more dangerous than any other test pilot who works for him, and probably less so. He's got a big investment in me. I think he just thinks I'm useful to the company, because I'm a woman, and all the publicity… the speed records I've set are important for his planes.” And then she looked at him, wondering if it was too soon to tell him. But she wanted to tell him now. She wanted to sign the contract as soon as she went back. She had thought about it a lot in the last few days, in spite of Chris, and she knew what she wanted.

“He wants me to do a world tour, Dad,” she said quietly, and for a moment, there was a long silence while he absorbed it.

“What kind of world tour? There's a war on, you know.”

“I know. He said we'd have to work around it. But he thinks it could be done safely, if we plan our route carefully.”

“So did George Putnam,” her father said grimly. He had just lost one child, he didn't want to lose another. “There's no way to do a world tour safely, Cass, war or no. There are too many variables, too many dangers. Your engines could fail. You could navigate wrong. You could hit a storm. A million unexpected things could happen.”

“But less so in one of his planes, and if I took the right man with me.”

“Did you have anyone in mind?” He thought instantly of Nick, but he couldn't go now.