Love Takes Flight Read online

  Love

  Takes Flight

  Jane Peart

  © 1985, 2011 Jane Peart. All rights reserved.

  To

  The two Saras,

  Ashcraft and Parsons,

  With love and appreciation

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter One

  “Two more hours delay!” Roblynn Mallory exclaimed in dismay. That meant she had no chance of making it back to Atlanta in time for her roommate Cindy’s kitchen shower. In fact if her flight had any further rescheduling, she might not even make it back for the wedding on Saturday!

  “Sorry!” The Operations agent at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport shook his head sympathetically as the pretty Trans-Continent stewardess sighed in frustration. “We will be issuing another EDT in about an hour when the weather report comes down,” he told her as she turned away.

  “Thanks,” Robbie smiled ruefully. “I know this fog is not your fault, Tim.” She started across the crowded terminal lobby toward the crew lounge in search of Jean Ames, her fellow flight attendant, to relay this latest information.

  Robbie was unaware of the many admiring glances following her as she passed. Although she could not be called beautiful, she had an indefinable quality that always commanded second looks. There was a vitality in her graceful walk, in the way she held her head, and in her slender figure clad in the distinctive, designer-created blue uniform. Besides her clear, lovely skin, she had a radiant smile and unusual golden-hazel eyes. Most important of all, Robbie had that glowing “All-American Girl” look which was exactly the image Trans-Con wanted to project.

  At the door of the lounge, Robbie paused and scanned the room for Jean. At least nine crews from various other flights stranded by weather were sitting around, drinking coffee, swapping horror stories of grounded flights, and complaining of the havoc done to personal plans.

  Not spotting Jean in the crowded room, Robbie decided to wait for her a while before looking elsewhere. As she stood there she became aware of a steady appraising gaze and immediately felt her face get warm.

  Robbie, who had a tendency to blush and hated it, turned away annoyed. She was not averse to male attention, but from this particular source it was unwelcome.

  Robbie had recognized him on sight. What Trans-Con “stew” wouldn’t? The “notorious” Captain T. J. Lang looked exactly the way a dashing airline pilot is supposed to look but seldom does. He also was considered to be the most eligible, least obtainable bachelor in the whole Trans-Con fleet of pilots, and rumored to collect girlfriends as some people collect match pads and to discard them just as casually.

  Robbie ignored the frankly admiring look directed at her and walked over to the coffee machine. Men like T. J. Lang irritated Robbie. They were always trying to live up to their reputation and never missed an opportunity to make an impression on any available girl. Robbie lifted her chin in what she hoped was an aloof manner. She was not interested in giving the cool captain a chance to while away some time because he was bored.

  Like all stewardesses Robbie had grown accustomed to the evaluating stares of passengers, but she resented Captain Lang’s unabashed appraisal. She had encountered his type often on flight and developed an inner resistance to that kind of easy charm. A man like T. J. Lang was not in Robbie’s game plan for life.

  Robbie took off her jaunty blue uniform cap, tucked it into the flap of her overarm bag, and carelessly ruffled her casually styled, russet-brown hair. She got a Styrofoam cup from the stack beside the dispenser, filled it with coffee, and took it over to one of the empty tables. As she sat down, she saw with some irritation that Captain Lang was seated at a nearby table. He shifted his chair at an angle so he could look at her while continuing his conversation with Ron Hughes, another pilot. Pretending not to notice him, Robbie stirred sugar into her coffee, while, from under lowered eyelids, she observed him for the first time at close range.

  There was no denying his good looks, she admitted reluctantly. His tanned, high-cheekboned face was certainly handsome, with nicely shaped features, and topped by thick, tawny sun-streaked hair. His lean, broad-shouldered frame in the well-fitted dark uniform had an athletic grace. “

  Suddenly he caught her looking at him, and she saw that his eyes were a clear, gray-blue, full of laughter and an adventurous twinkle. His mouth curved upward in a mischievous smile.

  Quickly she opened her handbag and took out Anne’s letter. Although she had read it earlier, she needed to divert her attention. As she reread Anne’s description of the poverty of the people she served in a jungle mission hospital in Peru and the dedication of the hospital staff, Robbie felt that nagging discontent stirring again. Anne had been one of Robbie’s classmates in nursing school and was now utilizing her training to the utmost and making her life count for something worthwhile. It made Robbie feel that somehow what she was doing was rather superficial.

  Robbie sighed, refolded the letter, and dropped it back inside her purse. She seemed to spend a good portion of her life sitting around airports as she was doing today. This winter had been particularly bad— the worst weather anyone in the airlines could remember. Fog blanketed the coast, hanging in heavy pockets which obscured dangerous peaks along the mountain ranges, lowering visibility to zero, and causing endless delays, last-minute schedule changes, and cancellation of numerous flights. On the Atlanta-Chicago-Denver and return route that Robbie flew, today’s ordeal was a repeat of several such since October.

  Why am I doing this? she sometimes wondered. When she had applied for a stewardess job she had imagined a glamorous adventure-filled life of traveling, meeting celebrities, and exciting experiences. What she had not anticipated were long, boring delays like this.

  Robbie’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a teasing voice. “Trans-Con must have selected that color for its stewardesses’ uniforms with redheads like you in mind.”

  Startled, Robbie looked up into T. J. Lang’s laughing eyes. She saw that Ron Hughes, with whom she had often flown, had gone for a coffee refill and Captain Lang was leaning across the table to speak directly to her. There was no avoiding an answer of some kind. Unable to feign total interest in the contents of her own coffee cup any longer, Robbie regarded him for a few seconds and then said icily, “The red is a hair-rinse called Amber Glow, and this shade of blue is regulation for Trans-Con stewardesses’ uniforms.”

  Undaunted, T. J. Lang laughed and retorted, “Well, the cute nose isn’t regulation; neither is that dimple you’re trying so hard to hide. That doesn’t come with the uniform. And where is all the fabled charm that Trans-Con says their stewardesses have a corner on?” he demanded, grinning.

  “Right now I don’t happen to be on duty,” Robbie snapped pointedly. She wanted to add that “respect for the captain,” also emphasized in her training, was not required of an off-duty stewardess either.

  Just then, Ron Hughes returned to the table and mistakenly assumed that the two of them were chatting. “Hi, Robbie. Are you flying in this rascal’s crew?” he asked.

  “No such luck,” T. J. interjected. “In fact, we haven’t been formally introduced. I didn’t quite catch her name.”

>   “This is Robbie Mallory, one of our best stews,” Ron said, winking at Robbie.

  “Miss Mallory.” T. J. stood up and bowed slightly.

  “Captain Lang.” Robbie acknowledged the introduction coldly.

  Captain Hughes, oblivious to the undercurrents, went blandly on. “This young woman is incredible,” he remarked. “When she was in my crew, nothing that happened fazed her. I think in one month we had everything on-flight from an emergency landing to almost delivering a baby! And Robbie never batted an eyelash! If I could request my flight attendants, I’d have her working every flight I make.” He grinned appreciatively at Robbie, who again felt that unwanted color creep into her cheeks under T. J.’s gaze.

  She dismissed Captain Hughes’ extravagant praise with a shrug and the murmured comment, “All part of the job.” In an effort to change the subject, she asked Ron, “Have you seen Jean Ames?”

  He shook his head, and eventually the two men went back to their discussion of boats and sailing. Robbie took out the paperback mystery she had picked up at the newsstand and opened it, determined to ignore the disturbing effect of feeling T. J.’s fairly frequent glance.

  Less than a half hour later, Robbie’s flight was given clearance, and she hurried to the stewardess lounge to freshen up before boarding the plane. There she met Jean, the flight attendant assigned with her to the First Class section for this trip.

  “I see you were in the vicinity of old Blue Eyes in the operations lounge. I saw him moving in on you. Should I check to see if you had a sudden increase in heart rate?”

  Robbie threw her an amused look and lifted an eyebrow.

  “Me? I actively resist being attracted to men like T. J. Lang. All that devastating charm leaves me cold.”

  “I’ve known more sophisticated girls than you to succumb. He’s an expert,” Jean commented archly.

  “Well, don’t hold your breath waiting for me to succumb, Jean. I have no intention of being added to his list. Besides, I’m sure I’m not his type.”

  Jean raised her eyebrows. “Oh? What type is that?”

  “Come on, Jean!” protested Robbie, exasperated.

  “As my grandmother and Shakespeare used to say— ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much.’”

  Robbie shook her head emphatically. “A man like T. J. Lang doesn’t interest me at all.” Standing in front of the mirror, she fanned out the tabs on the collar of her aqua silk blouse, straightened her short tailored jacket, and adjusted her cap on her head. Contrary to her flip retort to Captain Lang, her hair actually shimmered with red-gold lights. “I don’t know how to convince you!”

  “Go on, convince me,” Jean urged, as the girls left the lounge and started out the long terminal corridors to their flight’s boarding gate.

  “Maybe this will surprise you, but my first requirement for anyone I’d be interested in is that he be a Christian.”

  Jean’s eyes widened. “First?”

  “Yes,” Robbie replied.

  “It’s that important, huh?”

  “It is for me. Maybe because I’ve seen firsthand how important it is. Mom is a Christian, but Dad isn’t. We have a happy home—my brother and sister and I— but, all the same, we got mixed messages that confused us when we were growing up. Mom took us to church and saw that we attended Sunday school, but Dad played golf or stayed home to mow the lawn or wash the car. Don’t misunderstand, he’s a wonderful person. It was just that, as I got older, I saw there was something missing in their relationship. He doesn’t share the deepest part of my mother’s life. So, I don’t want to make the same mistake.”

  Jean frowned. “But weren’t there other things that compensated?”

  “Oh, sure. Dad makes a good living, and they have some common interests. But when I was Old enough to think about lasting relationships, I made up my mind not to get seriously involved with anyone who doesn’t share my beliefs. Why waste my time or his in something that won’t ever be a complete relationship?”

  “Hmmm,” Jean said thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I could be that positive. I mean, if I had a chance to go out with T. J., even one time, I think I’d go. Just for the experience, you understand!” she giggled.

  “I’m not looking for that kind of experience,” Robbie laughed.

  By this time, they had reached the escalator. Just as they stepped onto the first moving tier, T. J. and his copilot appeared right behind them. Jean gave Robbie a “now what?” look. There was no way to ignore the men and no way to avoid answering T. J.’s question. “Both you young ladies based in Atlanta?”

  Although T. J. was looking at her, Robbie let Jean answer. “Yes, but I’m hoping to transfer to Florida to get out of this zero temperature and get some sunshine.” Jean gave an imitation shiver.

  “I know what you mean. I was based in Miami for the past year and a half, and I miss all the swimming and sailing I did there. But now that I’m back in Atlanta, I’m getting into skiing again. I go up to the mountains in North Carolina every chance I get. Do you ski?” he asked Robbie directly. They had reached the top of the escalator, and he smoothly fell into step beside her.

  “I’ve never tried it,” she replied indifferently.

  “Never?” He sounded incredulous.

  “No, but I’ve nursed a lot of people with broken bones who have,” she retorted shortly.

  He smiled. “Well, if I’d known that, I’d have tried breaking an arm or a leg. I bet your bedside manner is sensational!” He grinned wickedly.

  She gave her head a little toss and quickened her step, but he kept pace.

  They had come to the octagonal lobby with its various departure gates for different airlines’ flights. Robbie and Jean started one way and T. J. and his copilot had to go in the opposite direction, but T. J. deftly stepped in front of Robbie, towering over her, blocking her way. He whipped a small black address book from the inside pocket of his jacket, snapped open a ballpoint pen, and poised it over the notebook ready to write. “I’d like to call you sometime. Is there a number where I can reach you?”

  Amazed, Robbie looked at him. His supreme self-confidence was disconcerting. Caught so off-guard, she blurted out without thinking, “I’m in the stewardess roster,” and then could have bitten her tongue.

  Jean came to her rescue. Tugging Robbie’s sleeve, she urged, “Come on, Robbie, we’ve got to get on board.”

  T. J. grinned, “Well, I’ll be calling you.” With a little salute, he spun around and walked briskly toward his own flight gate.

  “Do you believe that man!” Robbie demanded as she followed Jean down the ramp and into the plane. The nerve of that guy! she fumed silently as she put away her handbag and weekender in the locker. She had only a few minutes to simmer down before the passengers started filing onto the plane. So automatic was her response that none could have guessed that the smiling stewardess welcoming them on board had been seething inwardly moments before.

  For the first part of the flight, the two women were very busy, checking boarding passes, helping people find their assigned seats, and assisting with their coats and carryon bags. After that the stewardesses strolled up and down the aisles making sure all seats were in an upright position and all seat belts were fastened. It was Robbie’s turn this trip to give the oxygen mask demonstration. When that was done, she went to her own seat at the back of the section, buckled her safety belt while the plane taxied down the field to its take-off point, and waited for the final clearance from the tower.

  As she listened to the familiar sound of the huge jet engines revving and then felt the forward rush and the thrusting lift of the plane, Robbie’s mind went back to her first flight as a stewardess and the thrill she had experienced at winning her wings and becoming part of Trans-Con’s elite group of attractive, efficient flight attendants. She had brought with her to this job all the qualities that had made her an outstanding nursing student—intelligence, consideration, and a concern for people, blended with a light-hearted, outgoing persona
lity. A sense of fun and a lively curiosity about the world made her ideal for her job. Her nurses’ training gave her a competency and calm that was a plus.

  The last few years had been exciting and interesting, as well as enjoyable, but sometimes Robbie wondered if she really was fulfilling God’s purpose for her life. The question remained in the back of her mind—is this enough?

  She could not pursue this line of thought any longer, because the minute the plane was airborne her work began again. She and Jean began assembling the beverage cart for serving. To Robbie’s annoyance, Jean took up the subject of T. J. Lang again.

  “I think you’ve really got the high-and-mighty Tyler J. Lang interested. He’s sure making a pitch,” Jean chuckled.

  Robbie frowned. “I hope he didn’t get the wrong idea. I certainly did my best to discourage him.”

  “But that’s just it! Don’t you see? His ego is involved now,” Jean explained as if talking to a toddler. “It’s just what he needed to make him determined. He’ll have to prove something now.” Then she threw Robbie a skeptical look. “Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit flattered that Trans-Con’s gift to women is making a play for you?”

  Robbie shrugged, but felt her face grow warm under Jean’s scrutiny. There was no more time to continue the conversation as they started down the aisle to serve, but the exchange had disturbed Robbie. After all, to be honest and human, it was impossible not to take some satisfaction in an attractive man’s attention. Even admitting that much rankled Robbie.

  For the rest of the flight, Robbie and Jean worked as a smoothly operating team. They had flown together for the past month and they moved about their tasks with an even flow. Dinner had to be served next. They set up the trays in the galley, and, starting with the passengers seated nearest the galley door and continuing down the aisle, they handled the service quickly and efficiently. All the time they managed to answer all sorts of questions, smile, and attend to various special orders and requests.