“Yes.” Nan rubbed briskly at Aurelia’s shivery arm. She looked back up. “Family means something to me, Hitch. I know it never meant much to you—”
“That’s not entirely true—”
“—but to me it’s everything. And I will protect it.”
“I reckon that’s as it should be.”
“But…” Her mouth worked, almost like she had something to say and couldn’t quite get it out. “You should know—”
He made it easy for her. “I’m here to see this through, and then I’ll be gone again. I promise.”
She closed her mouth, and the lines of her cheeks went hard—as if that added coals to her fire instead of making things better.
He tried again. “Looks like Livingstone’s going to give me a job—a good one. Supposing we all survive this mess, then I’ll be out of your hair for good.” He tried to lighten his tone, but it came out a little creaky. “I may be irresponsible, but at least I’m consistent, right?”
“Yes.” She drew herself up and tightened her arm around Aurelia. “That being the case, I think it only right I ask you again to do the right thing and help me see to it that Walter stays at home from now on.”
Something under his heart twinged. He wasn’t going to hurt that kid, even by leaving. People came and went in life all the time. That wasn’t a bad thing to learn at any age. And unlike the last time he’d left, Hitch had never made a secret of the fact that this time he would be going.
The wind gusted against his back. Of course, there were other things that had changed. This was a battleground now. True enough that little boys didn’t belong where there was nobody who could be looking out for them.
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
“I know you don’t understand, but believe me when I say this is the best thing for Walter. And that’s all I care about.”
He couldn’t argue that. “Me too.”
Something in her eyes shifted, but hard to tell what, since there were a lot of emotions swirling around in there. She tucked her chin. “Okay then.” She herded Aurelia forward a step, then looked back. “Good luck up there, Hitch.”
He touched his forehead in a small salute. “Yes, ma’am.” He could use the sentiment, because truth be told, he didn’t feel too lucky right at this moment.
Twenty-Eight
RAINDROPS SPLATTED AGAINST the wooden plank above Walter’s head. He huddled under the front bleacher seat, knees against his chest, arms around Taos’s neck. The dog sat quietly. Only the tip of his one floppy ear moved whenever he perked it at a new passerby. His long fur had kinked with the wet, and it smelled like a musty carpet.
Beside the bleachers, someone had backed two Auto Wagon Model As—with the back doors open—end to end and erected a blanket on poles over the top. The doctor, in his black derby hat, and a few volunteers worked underneath. The patients sat on one tailgate, and the doctor picked up his tools off the other one, so he only had to turn when he wanted something.
Right now, Earl was the one sitting there, sweat glistening on his face. He kept hollering at the doctor.
Jael stood at his side, a hand on his good shoulder. Every time he hollered, she patted him, like Mama Nan sometimes did when she was trying to make Aunt Aurelia hush without being obvious about it.
Really, though, it wasn’t the doctor Earl was mad at. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault he was hurt. It was Walter’s.
Walter leaned his cheek against Taos’s neck. If he hadn’t been so scared earlier, if he had dodged faster when that wing had started swinging, then Hitch’s partner would never have gotten hurt.
The corners of his eyes pinched. One side of his mouth kept twitching downward. He rolled his lips in and bit them. Crying on top of everything else—good sweet angels, that would be too much.
His hands hadn’t stopped shaking for even a little bit. People had died. Pilots had gotten blown up. And even Hitch hadn’t been able to stop the outlaws in the ship.
Maybe this was what the Great War had been like. Some of the men who had gone across the sea to fight in it a few years ago told stories about planes crashing and people getting burned alive. When they told it, it had sounded bad, sure enough. But it always sounded like an adventure too.
Heroes liked adventures. They weren’t scared of them, and they didn’t sit around afterward, shaking and blinking back tears.
He blinked again.
He’d been scared all his life, ever since that day when he’d been so scared he’d almost let Evvy and Annie die. Maybe once you started being scared, you never stopped. That was the scariest thought of all.
Taos perked both ears.
Hitch strode in from the field, headed toward the motorcars. He glanced at Walter once, then again. He slowed, and then stopped. He looked at where Earl was hollering something new at the doctor. Then almost reluctantly, he turned and walked over to Walter.
If Hitch saw him like this, he’d know for sure Walter was a coward. He was just a little kid who couldn’t stop shaking and wouldn’t start talking—who didn’t even fit in quite right at home, much less out here. He hugged Taos tighter and bit his lips harder. A hero like Hitch wouldn’t want to be around him. Might even be ashamed to be seen with him.
Hitch stopped and stood over Walter. He looked around, almost like he was afraid he was going to get yelled at.
Then he looked at Walter. “What are you still doing here? Nan’s going to be looking for you.”
Walter shrugged. She probably thought he’d gone home with Molly and the girls, but he’d run back to make sure Taos was all right—and, also, so nobody would see him shaking like this.
Hitch wrinkled his forehead. “What are you doing down here?”
It was all too hard to explain—even if the answer hadn’t been awful anyway. He shrugged.
Hitch shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then, with another look around, he lowered himself into a crouch and reached to scratch Taos’s ear. “Well, I reckon this isn’t such a bad hidey hole. Keeps you kinda dry anyway, right?”
A smile just wouldn’t come. If he stopped clamping his teeth, he’d start bawling right here in front of Hitch Hitchcock. He turned his face into Taos’s neck.
Across the way, Earl yelped.
Walter winced again.
“Don’t worry about Earl,” Hitch said. “He’s as tough a bird as they come. You know, I heard it was you who thought up tying the wing to the bottom of the ship. It was a good idea. Not everybody can think that fast under pressure.”
Walter had to make Hitch understand. It wasn’t right to let him think Walter had been brave when he’d been anything but. He peeked up.
Hitch met his gaze and looked right back. “Scary, wasn’t it?”
Was it written on his face that plain? His whole chin trembled, but he made himself duck his head in a nod.
“I was scared too.”
What? Walter looked all the way up from Taos’s neck.
Hitch let the corner of a grin slip. “Sure. Everybody’s scared, don’t you know that?”
Walter shook his head.
“Well, they are. And not just of big things like this. I’m scared every time I go up in a plane.”
Was Hitch making fun of him? Was he trying to fool him just to make him feel better?
“Any pilot who’s not a little scared when he gets in a machine that’s going to take him a thousand feet above the ground is a fool. And I’ll tell you this too—I don’t like heights one bit. What Jael and Rick do, climbing out there on the wing? You couldn’t pay me to do that. Inside a cockpit, it don’t bother me for some reason. But the top of a high building”—he whistled—“that’ll get me every time.”