Vera ran her finger around the rim of her empty teacup, causing a slight squeaking sound as she considered her words. “Leo seems like a nice enough fellow. Decent even. But are his plans for the future the same as yours? Do not trade your freedom for the illusion of security. I understand that as an independently wealthy woman, it is easy for me to make such statements. But you...” Vera paused and waved her hand in the direction of the RadioNavigator. “You are brilliant, Mattie. You are going to sell that idea and make a mint. Even without your genius, you could support yourself as an aviatrix. That’s why I’ve started the Flying Flappers, to show that women—all women—can work and hold careers. So that each and every one of us has opportunities beyond the marriage bed.”
Mattie realized she had barely thought about a future with Leo or what their relationship even meant. But it was so new. To her. To him. She could barely define who they were now, let alone who they would be years from now. Did she want permanence? Did Leo?
Chapter Thirteen
The brand-new barnstorming group, the Flying Flappers, is making its way west to Troy, Wyoming. Led by none other than the incomparable Vera Jones, the primarily female troupe has been charming audiences with their smiles and spunk. The famous Flying Lion also soars with the ladybirds. Still displaying the same derring-do that he demonstrated in the Great War, he’s always sure to be an audience favorite.
—Chester Anderson,Troy Star
When the ten o’clock train chugged out of the second tunnel in Sunset Rock Canyon, Mattie and her Jenny were there to meet it and herald the arrival of Vera Jones’s Flying Flappers. Soaring inverted beside the track cut high in the cliff face, Mattie waved at the excited passengers. Then she dipped low into the valley, skimming over the scrubby lodgepole pines and buzzing a grove of quaking aspens. With a parting whoop, a wave, and one corkscrew of a barrel roll, Mattie left behind the twisting canyon and headed toward the town of Troy, Wyoming.
Although Troy didn’t have as many geothermal features as nearby Yellowstone National Park, it boasted a huge hot spring that formed a breathtaking cyan lake. Mattie flew low over the blue-green water as shewove in and out of the rising plumes of steam that smelled like rotten eggs. Some people called it a hellscape. She didn’t. It was more like a fierce fairyland—bold, uncompromising, and utterly magical.
After aiming her Jenny for the town of Troy, Mattie landed her plane in an open stretch of land not too far from the grand hotel. Although the Flying Flappers weren’t scheduled to start their performance for a few hours, people had already started milling about. When they cheered, she waggled both her hands and blew kisses. As always some of the men pretended to catch them, but she paid them no mind.
She had her fellow already.
And there Leo was, heading straight toward her, no doubt intent on checking over her aircraft. His mere presence caused a spike of excitement inside her. With him waiting for her on the ground, landing had become almost as exhilarating as takeoff.
“It went well?” he asked.
“Like a charm. Thanks for the advice. I was able to time every stunt perfectly.” Mattie pulled off the leather helmet and goggles.
“Anything I should be aware of when I check over the Curtiss?” Leo focused on her when he asked the question instead of immediately starting to scan the biplane.
“She didn’t give me any trouble.” She shook out her short curls, enjoying the feel of the slight breeze.
“Good.” Leo nodded. “Vera asked if I could tell you to head over to the dining area in about thirty minutes. There are two people who she wants you to meet. She told me that if you wanted to put on makeup, it might be a good idea.”
Mattie paused in fluffing her bob. “More press?”
Leo shrugged. “I’m not sure. She said it was a surprise. You know Vera.”
“Did you dig for more details?”
Leo shrugged. “I’m not you, but I figured you’d want some, so I did try.”
“And?”
“I got a very Vera smile.” Leo bent slightly to check under her Jenny’s nose.
“The mischievous I’ve-got-a-secret-plan-you’re-going-to-adore one?”
“That would be the one.” Leo pulled over the ladder to inspect the propeller blades.
“Well, thanks for trying,” Mattie said and then paused to add, “Toodle-oo.”
Leo shifted around the propeller to deliver his new grin—the broad, wide one that had nothing to do with the press and everything to do with her. “Toodle-oo.”
It was still a silly-sounding word, but it never failed to give Mattie a happy rush. Walking briskly to obscure her sudden desire to put an extra-cheerful spring into her step, she headed toward the white wooden building. Imbued with rustic charm, it boasted a huge wraparound porch offering sweeping vistas of the wild countryside. But the true pride of the Geyser View Inn was its numerous recreational pools fed from the large hot spring. Some were oversize, some midsize, and some private... very private. Mattie had plans for the latter type. Plans that definitely involved Leo. Plans that were currently making her hotter than the geothermal water feature itself. Plans that she needed to really stop thinking about if she wanted to focus on the mystery meeting ahead of her.
Stopping by the luxurious room the hotel had provided free of charge, Mattie quickly opened the supply of cosmetics that Vera had given her from the heiress’s own collection. Mattie didn’t know much about powders and paints, but she had a feeling Vera had spent a small fortune on them.
Mattie preferred a subtler application, except for the lipstick. She liked that bold. The old Mattie never would have believed that one dayshe’d have so much fun applying paint to her mouth or powder to her face.
Pleased with her coral lips and a slight smudging of eye shadow, Mattie headed down to the hotel’s dining room. She didn’t bother to change into one of the frilly frocks Vera had lent her. There wouldn’t be enough time to change back into her trousers before the performance. Besides, not only did she feel comfortable in the khakis and simple white shirt, but it had become part of what Vera called Mattie’simage.
Walking through the groupings of white-cloth-covered tables, Mattie heard a few whispers. Women nodded their cloche hats in her direction while men nudged their companions. It wasn’t the rush of low sound that Mattie heard when she entered a room with Vera, but it was something. People were beginning to know her.Recognizeher. And not just as Mattie McAdams but as Mattie McAdams, aviatrix.
