Her Sky Cowboy Part 23

Why did she keep thinking about her mother?

Perhaps it was some sort of intuition. What if something had gone amiss at Ashford, or-horrors-with Simon or Jules? She could not bear it if she lost another..."Stop." She palmed her flushed cheek and cursed herself for a ninny. What nonsense. Her brothers were perfectly fine. Her mother was perfectly fine. She would send a Teletype at the first opportunity, just to make certain.

Her heart settled back in her chest, and Amelia turned in search of her leather duster. If she combined it with the mantle, surely she'd be warm enough in the frigid winds.

Someone knocked.

"Come in."

The door swung open and there stood Doc Blue. He held a tray of food. "Breakfast," he announced, hurrying inside and setting the fruit and breads on the table before turning quickly back for the door. "Enjoy."

"Doc."

He stopped on the threshold, but didn't turn. "Yes?"

Amelia stared at his back, chewed her lower lip, pondering how to approach this delicate subject. She'd been curious about the man from the first moment she'd met him. His attractive yet odd features, the strange tattoos on his hands, the same hands that had felt so warm and tingly upon her wounded thigh-as if they emanated some sort of energy. She thought about how fast that awful wound had healed. How he was never without his goggles or spectacles, both shaded a deep blue. Although she was pretty sure he hadn't been wearing spectacles in that skytown coffeehouse-not that she'd specifically seen his eyes. What she had seen was Doc conversing freely and easily with a small group of radical-looking Freaks. "Could I speak with you in private?"

One foot out the door, his hand gripping the doorframe, he barely glanced over his shoulder. "Are you feeling ill? I should get my bag."

"Something is paining me, I confess. But there is no need for your medical bag. Do come in."

He moved back inside, averted his gaze.

She shut the door and faced him. "When I first boarded this dig, I thought you compa.s.sionate and kind. Indeed, you were the friendliest amongst the crew. Now...now you seem to loathe my company."

"Not true."

"Yet you keep glancing at the door, anxious for escape."

"Marshal wouldn't approve-"

"He'd understand."

"I'm not here in a professional capacity. It's inappropriate for us to be alone behind closed doors, Miss Darcy."

"I'm not the conventional sort, Doc Blue." She dug in her chunky heels. "Is it because you saw me in the skytown?"

"What?"

"The coffeehouse. You saw me and I saw you. With Freaks."

He stiffened.

She reached for his spectacles, holding her breath when he stilled her hands. He didn't push her away, verbally or physically, so she persevered. She pushed his wraparound specs to his forehead. "Open your eyes, Doc Blue."

"You will not like what you see."

"Do not a.s.sume."

She braced, but she was unprepared. "I...I had antic.i.p.ated kaleidoscope eyes."

"They were upon birth. Altered by surgery. My parents thought they were doing the right and kind thing. They wanted to give me a chance at a normal life. They'd planned to move to a remote town where no one knew they were Vic and Mod. Where no one would suspect I was a Freak. But the surgery was botched, and the kaleidoscope of colors burst and blended into all colors-white." He swallowed hard whilst gazing down at her with his eerie eyes. No irises, just small black pupils in the middle of all that brilliant white. "Go on. Say it. I'm hideous."

"Do you think Leo with his iron beak and talons hideous? I do not. He is simply different. No shame in being different."

"Easy for you to say. You are not a Freak."

"But I am an outcast of sorts. The Darcy name is tainted. There are those who shun me merely because I am related to Briscoe Darcy. There are those who call me eccentric and my father batty, all because we embrace and explore modern marvels."

"You mean Old Worlders."

"Mostly. People who wish the Peace Rebels had never breached our time. People who fear technology and change simply because it is different."

"Your circ.u.mstance is unfortunate, but trust me, it does not compare."

"Maybe not. But it doesn't mean I don't empathize."

Doc Blue worked his jaw. "Marshal promised he wouldn't tell."

"He didn't. I surmised."

"Be obliged if you kept my secret to yourself, Miss Darcy," he said, his voice low. "On the Maverick I'm just the physician and cook, just another misfit taken in by Marshal Gentry."

That bit of information solidified her faith in Tucker's good character. The man seemed incapable of turning his back on anyone in need. Including herself. Apparently his heart was as vast as the sky. Acknowledging a sentimental ache in her chest, Amelia focused on Doc. "Surely you've confided in the rest of the crew."

"I have not."

"Why would you keep this quiet?"

"Why would I announce it? I don't simply look different. I am different. Freaks possess preternatural abilities. Mine is accelerated healing. There are people, governments, who would vie for my talents, and I fear my skills would not always be used for the best. I have no wish to be used."

Amelia swallowed. How awful that one should have to suppress a wondrous gift. "I understand, but...I am astounded that you would not trust the crew. StarMan? Eli? They are your friends, are they not? Surely they would understand your concerns, accept you for who you are. Your silence aside, how is it that they have not put two and two together as I did?"

"I think they suspect-all but Axel, who lives in denial of everything different-but they do not ask and I do not tell. Pretending is...easier. Safer."

"But-"

"Do not profess to know what's best for me simply because you empathize, Miss Darcy."

"I did not mean to offend. I simply think it's a shame that you cannot live your life freely without fear of being shunned or exploited because of your race."

"Yes, well, the world is flawed." Tight-jawed, he s.h.i.+elded his eyes once again with the tinted specs.

She was torn between feeling sorry for him and wanting to boot him in the a.r.s.e. "One cannot make positive changes toward the future if one does not speak up and act out. Pretending may be easier and safer, but certainly does nothing to advance a utopian society."

His pale face pinched. "I have to go."

"Wait-"

"I would be most grateful if you'd respect my wishes and honor my secret," he repeated in a gruff tone as he reached for the door.

"Of course, but-"

"Good day, Miss Darcy."

Stunned and perplexed, she blinked in his wake. She had thought that if he believed her to be supportive and accepting of his altered race, he would relax and count her as a confidante and friend. Instead she'd somehow severed whatever goodwill existed between them. Perhaps Tucker could help her to understand.

Anxious to see him and to attack the day, Amelia donned heavy outerwear, antic.i.p.ating the freezing temperatures of the Alps. As an afterthought she slipped Papa's stun gun in one pocket and Eli's retracted cane in the other. Just in case. Were they to be boarded by Dunkirk or ALE, she would not be taken or delayed without a fight. This Darcy would prevail.

CHAPTER 22.

"The retracting mechanisms on the masts iced over, Marshal."

"Unfreeze them."

"I did. Five minutes later, they iced over again."

Tuck, who'd been at the wheel for two hours, noted a rise in temperature in the s.h.i.+elded c.o.c.kpit as his men crowded in, bundled up and bent out of shape. You'd think they'd never flown through the mountains in the dead of winter. "I'm sure you'll think of something, Eli."

"You think you have problems," Birdman said, "try climbing the shrouds in subzero weather. Or sitting in my iron nest. My caboose near 'bout froze to the grille."

"Never mind your scrawny a.s.s," Axel grumbled, then held up his meaty paws. "What about my fingers? How am I supposed to maintain machinery when my digits are frozen stiff?"

"You could trade your leather gauntlets for fur-lined gloves," StarMan said reasonably.

"Yeah, well, you could plot a less hostile course next time," Axel said, his breath coming out in white puffs.

"Not to complain," Eli said, clapping the flaps of his aviator cap over his big ears, "but why are we serpentining through the Alps when we could have flown on to the south of France and over the Mediterranean Sea?"

"Or even a straight shot from Geneva to Genoa and on to Florence," Birdman said, s.h.i.+fting back and forth to keep his blood pumping. "You did say Tuscany, right, Marshal?"

"I did. But given our hot cargo-"

"Meaning Miss Craz...er, Darcy," Axel said.

"-and the fact that we're in pursuit of a historical invention of monumental value-"

"Whatever that is," Birdman said.

"-I preferred a less direct route." Tuck consulted his astronomical compendium while the crew absorbed his meaning. Because of the run-in with Dunkirk, they knew Amelia had knowledge that would lead her to a treasure. They read the Informer and various other newspapers and therefore knew about the Triple R Tourney.

"You're trying to lose Captain Dunkirk or anyone like him who may be tracking us," Eli said. "Makes sense, I guess."

Birdman hopped faster. "Best be worth a case of frostbite."

"What is our cut, anyway?" Axel asked point-blank.

Tuck had pretty much decided how he wanted to handle this transaction, but he'd yet to broach it with Amelia. It was all in the timing. "Working out the details, boys, but I promise it'll be worthwhile."

Just then footsteps and an ecstatic "Remarkable!" turned everyone's head.

Tuck pushed his goggles to his forehead for a crystal-clear view. Amelia. Bundled up and wide-eyed with wonder. Spinning around to get a hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the snow-covered peaks. He sensed the same awe she'd expressed flying over the English Channel. Didn't surprise him one bit when she turned and smiled at him and his d.a.m.ned heart skipped.

"Have you ever seen anything so incredible?" she asked them all. "So majestic? So terrifyingly dangerous? And what about all that snow?" She spread her arms wide and breathed deeply. "How invigorating!"

"I'm s.h.i.+verin' like a lizard lookin' for a hot rock," Axel grumbled, "and she's invigorated."

Tuck grinned. "Why don't you boys head below. See if Doc'll wrestle you up some hot cider?" He hadn't had a private moment with Doc Blue since the skytown near-miss. Then again, Tuck had been preoccupied with Amelia, and Doc had been plain preoccupied.

"Could do with getting out of this wind for a while," Eli said.

Birdman rubbed his a.s.s. "Maybe hot cider will warm my numb caboose."

"Supposed to drink it, not soak in it," Axel said as the three men moved away from the c.o.c.kpit.

Amelia moved in and blinked in their wake. "Was it something I said?"

"Think I'll join the men." StarMan dipped his head in greeting-"Morning, Miss Darcy"-then strode after the crew.

She frowned. "I interrupted something."

"Just a boodle of bellyaching."

"About me?"

"About the weather."

"It is quite brisk." She adjusted her goggles, tugged down her cap. "Thank goodness for fur and fleece."

d.a.m.n, she was pretty. Even trussed up like an Eskimo, Flygirl ignited randy thoughts. Instead of pinning her against the chart podium and exploring her curvy landscape, Tuck offered his hand. When she took it he pulled her into the c.o.c.kpit and placed her gloved hands on the s.h.i.+p's wheel, just where his had been. He pointed out various controls and functions. She absorbed his words, intently focused, interrupting only twice to ask for clarification.

He tried not to notice how good she smelled, or how fetching she looked with her long curls tumbling to her waist. "Don't stray too close to the peaks," he said. "Hold steady."

Standing flush to her back, Tuck looked over her shoulder, delighting in her exuberant expression as she piloted his airs.h.i.+p through the Alps.

I've always dreamed of owning and piloting my own airs.h.i.+p.

She'd fired off those words when telling him about her big plans and venting about the shackles of marriage. He admired her pa.s.sion, but d.a.m.n, it worried him to think about her living that dream alone. Later, when she'd broken down and confessed her guilt regarding her pa, he'd tucked away her every wish and memory. He'd learned more about Amelia Darcy during that short breakdown than he knew about women he'd been acquainted with for months. He knew that he liked her, admired her, and wanted her in his life.

After last night, he wasn't sure how'd she'd feel today. Although he'd taken it as a good sign that she'd slept restfully through the night. No nightmares. No tears. Just now her mood seemed bright, her world balanced as she gripped the s.h.i.+p's wheel. "How's she feel?"