with a quick, gentle kiss.
“I guess we’ll have to see about that once we’re all in Colorado.” She wanted a little girl with Jameson’s eyes and reckless ways. Wanted William to know the joy of having a sibling, too.
“I’m going to take you fishing,” Jameson promised William. “And I’ll teach you to camp under stars so bright that they light the midnight sky. I’ll show you the safest places to cross the creek, and when you’re old enough, I’ll teach you how to fly, too. You just have to watch out for the bears until I get there.”
“Bears!” Scarlett’s jaw dropped.
“Don’t you worry.” Jameson laughed as he wrapped his arm around Scarlett’s waist. “Most of the bears are scared of your grandma… The mountain lions, too. But she’s gonna love you.” He glanced at Scarlett. “She’s going to love both of you just as much as I do.”
Reluctantly, Jameson handed William to Scarlett and they all stood.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, wrapping his arms around his wife and son.
“Good.” She lifted her face for a kiss. “We’re not done discussing the phonograph.”
Jameson kissed her soundly, then laughed. “The record player goes.”
“As I said,” she replied with an arched brow, “we’re not done discussing it.” Scarlett wasn’t superstitious, but most pilots were, and taking the record player home to Jameson’s mother felt like inviting bad luck.
“We’ll talk about it when I get home,” he promised. He kissed her again, hard and quick, then brushed his lips over William’s and walked out the door.
“We’ll talk about it means Mummy is going to win,” she told William, tickling him gently.
He gave her a belly laugh that she couldn’t help but return.
…
Jameson rolled his shoulders, attempting to ease what had become a permanent ache in his muscles. Their objective, a target on the German border, had been accomplished, and though the three bombers they were escorting had come under fire, they were currently over the Netherlands and whole. That’s what he called a good day.
He glanced at the picture he still kept tacked beneath the gauge and smiled. It was the same one of Scarlett that Constance had given him almost two years ago. He knew she thought it was bad luck to take the record player home, but he had all the luck he needed in that picture right there. Besides, there wasn’t anyone he wanted to dance with besides his Scarlett, and there would be plenty of time for dancing once this war was over.
“We’re making good time,” Howard said over the radio, using their designated squadron channel.
“Don’t count your chickens,” Jameson replied, looking to the right where Howard flew as blue lead about two hundred yards off. The only thing he liked about the astern formation was flying lead alongside Howard. Today, he was red.
But he was right, they were making good time. At this rate, he wouldn’t make it home before dinner, but he might make it in time to put William to bed.
Then, he’d take his wife to bed. He was going to make every single second they had together count.
“Blue lead, this is blue four, over,” a voice came over the radio.
“This is blue lead, go ahead,” Howard called back.
The thing Jameson hated about the astern formation was it left their newest pilots, those with the least combat experience, in the back.
“I think I saw something above us.” The shaky voice broke toward the end. That had to be the new kid, the one who had just come in last week.
“You think? Or you know?” Howard asked.
Jameson looked up through the glass of the cockpit, but the only things he saw on the cloud layer above them were their own shadows from the dying sun.
“I think—”
“Red lead, this is red three, over,” Boston said across the radio.
“This is red lead, go ahead,” Jameson answered, still scanning the sky above them.
“I saw something, too.”
The hairs on the back of Jameson’s neck stood at attention.
“Above at two o’clock!” Boston shouted.
He’d barely gotten the words out when a formation of German fighters broke through the cloud cover, firing down upon them.
“Split the flights!” Jameson shouted to the radio. In his peripheral vision, he saw Howard bank hard right, and Cooper, who was flying white lead to the left, banked the same.
Jameson pulled on the stick, climbing sharply, leading his men to higher ground. In a dogfight, he who had the elevation had the upper hand. Clear of the blue flight, Jameson turned to face the enemy,