“Yeah, I heard.”
“Well, then I know I can count on you to help me fulfill my promise to these people.”
Hitch straightened all the way up. “Look, showmanship’s all fine and good. I’m for it. But this ain’t the time.”
“Nonsense, dear boy. There’s never a better time. Number one, it gives these people something to ponder other than their own panic. Number two”—he tapped Hitch’s chest with the silver handle of his walking stick—“if we’re going to be humanitarians, I see no reason why we cannot profit from it.” He leaned in. “I hope you know without my saying so that I had nothing to do with this travesty. But I must admit it has presented what my business acumen tells me is the opportunity of a lifetime. I have no intention of wasting that. What we pilots must all do now is work together. Follow my lead, and this could end up being on every newspaper in the country. What do you think of that?”
Ah, of course. Livingstone didn’t just want the publicity for bringing Schturming down. Wouldn’t he be just more than ecstatic if he was to actually get his grubby hands on the thing? Hitch could see him now: making his grand entrance into every town between Seattle and Miami Beach, coasting in on that giant dirigible.
No doubt Livingstone would be equally delighted with the _dawsedometer_’s prospects. Lightning you could control? He could stage dogfights the like of which the war pilots had never even seen.
And of course he’d be as scrupulous as a white-gloved old lady at Sunday services. Wouldn’t even think of using the threat of all that chaos to keep his pilots—and Lord knew who else—in line.
Working for Livingstone would be challenging enough as it was. No way Hitch wanted to be within five hundred miles of the man if he somehow shimmied past Campbell and got his hands on that dirigible.
“If you want me to tell you I’m going to go up there and try to find that thing and bring it down, then the answer is I sure am. But you’re forgetting this is my home. What I do, I do for the people here, not for your show.”
“Of course, of course. All the more reason you should come around to my way of thinking. I will bring down this threat to your home, and I tell you in all frankness that I value your skills in helping me achieve that.” Livingstone lowered his voice. “You might yet achieve great things, Captain Hitchcock. You just need the guidance of an experienced hand.”
In other words, Livingstone wanted a long leash on Hitch, so anything Hitch might do would ultimately be a credit to the Extravagant Flying Circus.
Livingstone smiled and stepped back. “I’m sure you realize that with the unfortunate demise of the competition, our bet will have to be abandoned. But I must be honest with you: I would still be pleased to offer you a membership in my troupe. If you should be instrumental in helping me destroy the airbeast, then perhaps I might consider presenting you that partnership after all.” He shrugged. “My way gets you everything you desire. You get to free your town and journey on.”
Had the old buzzard wanted Hitch as a partner in his show all along?
Hitch took a careful breath. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“Most excellent.” Livingstone pursed his lips and tweaked the ring on his little finger. “And what about your lovely young wing walker? Seems I remember a pendant she was rather intent on defending.”
Sudden heat burned away the chill on the back of Hitch’s neck. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Of course, of course. To be honest, I don’t share your sheriff’s interest in reconciling with these pirates. No glory to be had in that, is there?”
“Look.” Hitch squared his stance. “We’re on the same side in this. I respect your flying as much as any man’s and I appreciate your offer. But I’ll tell you this upfront—the only time I’ll fall in line behind you on this is the time when I believe with all my heart that what you’re doing is the right thing for the people here.”
Livingstone’s sharp gaze penetrated Hitch’s. “Well.” He touched a finger to his hat brim. “That may not be the best way to play this game—for anyone’s sake. But I shall look forward to seeing what you come up with in this grand chase of ours. Happy hunting, Captain Hitchcock.”
Hitch watched him go.
Livingstone wanted publicity, Hitch’s Jenny, and a fancy new dirigible to add to his show. Campbell wanted to destroy Schturming, show Zlo who was boss, and remind Scottsbluff why he was such an all-fired swell sheriff. Jael wanted to save what was left of her people and get home. And everybody else just wanted to survive. That was an awful lot of juggling. If he dropped even one of those balls, he wasn’t likely to walk away from this mess.
He hissed a long breath past his teeth.
So he’d juggle. If—when?—one of the balls fell, he’d have to hope it was the one that’d cause the least amount of hurt all the way around.
He stood in the wind, hands in his pockets, and watched the crowd.
Nan walked around the back of the tent, shepherding a weeping Aurelia. She saw Hitch and stopped short. Her eyes darted to either side of him, probably looking for a graceful retreat. Then she straightened her shoulders and trudged past him.
He took his hands from his pockets. “You all right?”
She nodded, even that gesture looking like it required half her remaining energy.
“Walter, the girls?” he asked
“They’re fine. We’re all fine.”
Aurelia drew in a sharp, warbling breath. She wasn’t having a fit, but her eyes stared at faraway things. She walked with her arms at her sides, shoulders slumped. Her violet scarf trailed in the thin beginnings of mud.
He leaned over to catch the scarf and tuck it around her cold arm. “It’ll be okay.” He couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering over to Nan’s as he said it.
Nan shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For what I said about Walter earlier. He’s your kid. You got a right to raise him how you want. But I would never intentionally hurt him—or any of you.”
She hesitated. “You frighten me, you know that.”
“Me? Why?”
“You just do.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, not with tears, just with the tiredness of it all. “Walter… Walter has some problems, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. There have been things that have happened to him, some I blame myself for, some I don’t. I’ve tried all these years to help him, to give him a reason to talk again, to be a good mother to him.”
“You are a good mother.”
“I’m a good mother.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And you’re an irresponsible adventurer. And you’ve helped him. I’d be a liar not to admit he’s been different this week. I’ve never seen him like this, not since that day when I…” She inhaled sharply through her nose and straightened up. “Why you? Why does he respond to you?”
He shrugged. “Airplanes.”
“It’s not the airplanes. It’s you. You have the gift for making people love you, Hitch.” She didn’t say it like it was a compliment. “I told Celia she was a fool to marry you.”
Celia hadn’t been the only fool, but he kept his mouth shut on that one. He bore a man’s share when it came to blame there, and they all knew it.
Aurelia drew another shuddery breath. “I remember… Celia.”
“Yes, dear,” Nan’s voice softened, almost all the way to tenderness. “She was our sister.”
Aurelia’s gaze roamed, but never quite made it back to the present. “Like you are my sister.”