My heart warmed at the invitation—but quickly cooled. I didn’t want them together. I didn’t want to see Luc looking at my sister the way he was right now—the way he had in Paris.
Grace frowned at me, uncertainty in her face.
“I’m not sure if we’ll have the time,” I told him, a bit curt.
Disappointment clouded his eyes for just a moment, but then he covered his emotions and gave me a nod. “Another time, perhaps.”
As he left us, Grace gave me a questioning look.
I ignored it.
The crowd grew more animated as the air meet continued. The heat and humidity didn’t seem to dampen anyone’s spirits as Blanche Stuart Scott took to the air. Tomorrow she would attempt to beat the speed record with me, but I was confident in my aeroplane.
As I inspected the new Blériot, looking over each wire, bolt, and mechanism, a man called out my name. “Miss Cooper?”
I turned to see the air meet organizer, Mr. Willard, in a thick wool sweater and a flat cap, much like Luc’s, worn backward.
I smiled. “My mechanics should be ready to assist us.”
Grace was still standing near my hangar, taking notes for another story. She was far enough away that I couldn’t introduce her to Mr. Willard, but she’d want to interview him after our flight.
“Have you ridden in an aeroplane before?” I asked him.
“No. This will be my first time. My son wants to be a pilot, so I had to flip a coin with him to see who would go up with you. I should feel bad that he lost, but I don’t.” He winked at me.
The mechanics pulled my aeroplane out of the hangar and then assisted Mr. Willard into the passenger seat. He was a handsome man, recently widowed, so it didn’t surprise me when some of the mechanics began to tease him.
“How does it feel to venture into the sky for the first time with the prettiest pilot at the air show?” one man asked.
“Why do you think I agreed to go?” Mr. Willard replied with hearty laughter.
I climbed into the cockpit of the monoplane and gave Mr. Willard a few instructions, telling him to sit tight and not make any movements, since it could easily cause the balance to shift.
As the lead mechanic spun the propeller and I flipped the ignition switch, my eye caught something strange.
Luc had come out of his hangar and was casually walking toward mine. The engine whirred to life and the plane began to pull, but I waited—did Luc want to stop me? Talk to me?
The mechanics watched for my signal to let go of the aeroplane. It pulled against them, wanting to be free.
And then I realized why Luc was approaching.
He had his eye on Grace.
I couldn’t wait any longer, so I lifted my hand to indicate that the mechanics should let go, and the aeroplane sped across the field, taking me away from Grace and Luc.
When the plane took flight and weightlessness came over me, for the first time I felt no joy.
Behind me, Mr. Willard whooped his appreciation, and I forced myself to think about this flight, pulling the throttle lever back to allow the aeroplane to climb higher.
I gracefully turned the aeroplane and flew east toward the Boston Light, positioned on Little Brewster Island. The first lighthouse in America had been built there, and it was an important landmark for the speed contest tomorrow. I would need to fly out to the light, circle it once, and then come back to the air meet—and do it five times. It would be a timed flight, and the person who did it the fastest would win the thousand dollars.
The sky was a magnificent shade of blue without a cloud in sight. I wanted to end my flight soon, to rejoin Luc and Grace and see what they were talking about, but Mr. Willard deserved the twenty-minute flight I had promised him. It was just past five o’clock, so the sun was starting its descent, offering the perfect amount of light for flying. I climbed to two thousand feet before reaching the lighthouse and made a wide arc around it, not worried about precision or timing today.
After circling the lighthouse, I started to lower the aeroplane’s altitude, eager to return to earth. I made wide circles around the airfield as I descended. Blanche was entertaining the audience in the distance, while in the shallow tidal flats sat a boat holding two boys, their faces turned toward the sky to watch us.
Without warning, the aeroplane’s tail flicked upward, muchlike it had when I was flying over the English Channel. I grabbed the edge of the cockpit and yelled for Mr. Willard to do the same. But to my horror, I heard him scream as he went sailing over my head. The aeroplane had tossed him from his seat.
My hands shook as I worked hard to steady the monoplane, which was off-balance from the loss of his weight. Sweat broke out all over my body as my pulse hummed with panic. I tried to think of what I might do to save him, but he was falling so fast, and I lost sight of him.
