Cassie nodded. “I thought maybe Billy.” Pat hesitated while he thought about it, and then he nodded.

“He's good,” he agreed. “But he's young,” and then he reconsidered. “Maybe you have to be. No one older than you kids would be crazy enough to want to do it.” He almost smiled then, and Cass suddenly felt better. It was almost as though he had approved. And she wanted him to. She wanted to do it with his blessing. “Is that why they're paying you so much?”

“No,” she shook her head. “They'd pay me even more for the world tour.” She didn't even dare tell him how much. A hundred and fifty thousand would sound like the world to him, and it was. And she didn't want him to think she was doing it out of greed, because she wasn't. “And there would be bonuses, and other contracts resulting from it, and endorsements. It's a pretty good deal,” she explained modestly. But even talking about those amounts of money scared her.

“It's not a good deal if you're dead,” Pat said bluntly, and she nodded. “You'd better think about it carefully, Cassandra Maureen. It's not a game. You'll take your life in your hands if you do it.”

“What do you think I should do, Dad?” She was begging for his approval and he knew it.

“I just don't know,” he said, and then he closed his eyes, thinking about it. He opened them again, and reached for her hands and held them. “You have to do what you need to do, Cass. Whatever it is your mind and heart tell you. I can't stand between you and a great future. But if you get hurt, I'll never forgive myself… or Desmond Williams. I'd like you to stay here, and never risk anything again… particularly after what just happened to Chris. But that's not right. You have to follow your heart. I said as much to Nick when he decided to go to England. You're young, it could be a great thing if you make it. And a terrible heartbreak for us, if you don't.” He looked at her long and hard, not sure what else he should say to her. It was her decision in the end. She'd been right to go to Los Angeles the year before, but he just didn't know now.

“I'd like to do it, Daddy,” she said quietly, and he nodded.

“At your age, I would have too. It would have been the greatest opportunity in my life, if anyone had offered it. But they didn't,” He smiled, and looked more like himself again. “You're a lucky girl, Cass. That man has given you a great chance to become someone very important. It's a gift… but a dangerous one. I hope he knows what he's doing.”

“So do I, Daddy. But I trust him. He's too smart to take chances. He believes totally in what he's doing.”

“When does he want you to go?” Pat asked cautiously.

“Not for another year. He wants to plan it perfectly.”

“I like that,” Pit said. “Well, think about it, and let me know what you decide. I wouldn't tell your mother for a while, if you decide to do it.” She nodded, and a little while later they turned out the lights and went to bed, but she was immensely relieved to have talked to him, and even more so that he hadn't gotten angry. He seemed to have finally accepted who she was, and what she was doing. He'd come a long way since he'd forbidden her to fly or take lessons. The memory of that made her smile now.

She talked to Billy about it the next day, and he went wild when she told him she had suggested him as her navigator and co-pilot.

“You want me?” he shrieked and then threw his arms around her neck and kissed her. “Zowie!!!!”

“Would you do it?”

“Are you kidding? When do we leave? I'll pack now.”

“Relax,” she laughed at him, “not for another year. July 2, 1941, to be exact. He wants to do it on the anniversary of the day Earhart went down. It's a little spooky but he likes that.” It had to do with publicity, and in that, she trusted Desmond's judgment.

“Why so long?” Billy sounded disappointed.

“He wants to plan it carefully, build it up, test the right plane. He's thinking about our using the Starlifter, which would be tremendous publicity for it, for distance and endurance.” That was really what it was all about, but if they made it, their lives would never be the same again. And she already knew that there was fifty thousand dollars in it for Billy, and she told him.

“I could sure have a good time with that, couldn't I?” But like Cassie, it wasn't the money that appealed to him, it was the excitement and the challenge. It was the same thing that appealed to Desmond, and had even sparked a flicker of excitement in her father. “Well, let me know what you do.” And like her father, he suspected that she had already made the decision. She had, but she was trying it on for size, thinking about it, trying to be sure she wanted to make the commitment. Working for Desmond for another year was one thing, that was an easy choice, but agreeing to do the world tour was entirely different, and she knew it. She knew how great the risks were, and the benefits, if she made it. Imagine what Earhart would have been if she had succeeded. It was hard to imagine her legend being even stronger than it was, but it would have been. If only…

Billy left on a quick hop to Cleveland that afternoon, and her father was still at home, so Cassie volunteered to stick around and close the office. She put some papers away for them, and then she put on a familiar pair of overalls and went out to gas some planes. She had nothing else to do, and it would save Billy some work in the morning.

She had just finished the last of them, and put away some tools, when she saw a small plane coming in on the main runway. The little plane didn't seem to hesitate. It came right in, and then taxied toward the far hangar. She wondered if it was a regular, it had to be. She didn't know all of them anymore. He seemed to know exactly where to go, and what to do. She watched him for a minute, but the sun was in her eyes. And then she saw him. It couldn't be… it couldn't… but it was. He had come home to them. It was Nick. And she was crying as she ran toward him. She flew into his arms and he held her there, careful of her bandaged arm. It brought it all back to be there with him, the sorrow and the pain, and the shock of losing Chris mingled with the pleasure of seeing Nick now. He kissed her long and hard, and she felt safe and at peace suddenly, knowing he was home now.

“They let me go as soon as I heard,” he explained when they came up for air. “But I had a hell of a time getting to New York. I had to fly out of Lisbon, I got in last night, and I chartered this crate in New York this morning. I never thought I'd make it. The damn thing barely got off the ground in New Jersey.”

“I'm so glad you're here.” She hugged him again, so relieved to see him. And he looked incredibly handsome in his RAF uniform. But also very worried.

“How's your dad?”

“Not great,” she said honestly. “He'll be glad to see you. I'll drive you over now. You can stay with us.” And then she almost choked on the words, “You can have Chris's room… or mine… I'll sleep on the couch.” Billy was living in Nick's old shack, and it would have been close quarters with both of them there.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he grinned. “It's not a problem. The British aren't known for their comfortable barracks. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since last September.”

“When are you coming home?” she asked, as she drove him to her parents’ house.

“When it's over.” But it wouldn't be over soon. Now that France had fallen three weeks before, Hitler had control of an even larger chunk of Europe. And the British had their hands full keeping him from trying to take what was left of the French fleet in North Africa. Their problems were far from over.

Nick inquired about her arm, and she admitted it hurt, but was getting better.

They had arrived at the house by then, and her father was sitting in a chair on the porch looking doleful.

“Cot a cot for a soldier, Ace?” Nick said quietly as he stepped onto the porch and walked swiftly to his old friend and embraced him. The two men cried, sharing each other's pain, and Cassie left them alone to talk and fix them some dinner. Her mother had gone to bed with a terrible headache. She was still taking it very hard, understandably, he had been her baby, and so young. He was only twenty.

Cassie made them both sandwiches and poured them beer, and her mother had made a big salad in case they wanted it. It was enough. None of them were very hungry. And as they ate, Nick told them about what was happening in Europe. He had heard tales of the fall of France three weeks before, and the heartbreaking fall of Paris. The Germans were everywhere, and the British were afraid Hitler would try to take them next, and there was some fear that he might succeed, although no one said it.

“Are they letting you fly missions yet?” Pat asked, smiling at the memories of their days together at the end of the last war.

“They're too smart for that, Ace. They know I'm over the hill.”

“Not at your age. Give 'em time. When things get hot for them, they're going to throw your behind into a fighter and kiss you good-bye in a hot minute.”

“I hope not.” It made Cassie angry listening to them. They all loved war so much, and as far as they were concerned, it was all right to take chances, as long as they were the ones who did it.

She left them talking on the porch late that night. She would have liked to talk to Nick too, but she knew her father needed him more. And she had time. Nick was there for three days. She would see him in the morning.

Her father finally went to his office the next day, and he was pleased to find everything in good order. Billy had taken good care of the planes. Cassie had taken good care of his desk, and his pilots were all standing by waiting for directions. It did him good to come back, and halfway through the morning, Cassie was surprised when Desmond called her. He asked if it was okay to talk, and she stepped in and closed the door to her father's office.