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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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BOOK: The White Knight
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****

Luke finished his last pass and turned toward home. As always, he was enjoying the flight. Flying had always been a delight to him. Even in Spain, when there was danger behind every cloud, the flying itself gave him an exuberant feeling. Now he lifted the plane above the clouds and looked out at the fleecy floor that lay beneath him. His enjoyment was suddenly broken when a memory came to him, and he shook his head to clear it, but it would not leave. For several days Melosa had been on his mind, and the previous night he had had a dream about her. It had been one of those dreams that had seemed so real—the odors, the sounds, the sights were all magnified.

In the dream Melosa had been running across a field filled with wild flowers. They were the kind of flowers he had seen growing wild for acres in Texas. They were almost as high as her waist, and the blue of the blossoms was so startling it almost hurt his eyes. He was running after her, and he could hear her laughing softly at him. Finally he caught her by the shoulders from behind and turned her around.

And that was the part of the dream that troubled Luke, for in the dream when he turned the woman around, it was not Melosa but Joelle he was holding. He looked down at her in shock and confusion and suddenly cried out. And then he had awakened, aware that he had cried out in his sleep.

Now Luke came down through the clouds and headed for the stretch of farmland they used for a landing strip. He brought the plane down and slowed it to a stop. As he got out and checked the plane methodically, his mind was still on Melosa.

For the rest of the day he went about his work mechanically, following the routine he knew by heart, and that night at supper the girls chattered, as always, but he paid little
attention. When the meal was over, he got up and walked out of the house after thanking Joelle and the girls who had done the cooking.

The sky was already getting dark, for they had eaten late, and for a time he simply wandered, thinking about why he should have such a vivid dream about Melosa after all this time. He finally stopped by the fence and the horse came over, pressing his nose against Luke's hand, looking for a treat.

“Did you have a good day, Marshall?” He stroked the horse's soft nose.

“I brought him some apples.”

Luke turned to see Joelle approaching, apples in her hands. She handed him an apple and a knife she had brought, and he cut the apple into quarters and fed them to the horse.

“These are a real treat for him,” Joelle said. “I remember when he was just a colt. I was the first one to ride him. He must've plowed a thousand times for my dad.”

“He's a good horse. Good-looking too,” Luke commented. “It's a funny thing about animals. Marshall here is pretty old for a horse, but he probably looks as good as he did when he was a year old.”

“He does. He was a handsome horse then and he still is.”

“Not like men.” Luke shrugged. “We lose our looks. When I'm as old for a human as Marshall is for a horse, I'll be covered with wrinkles and bald.”

“No you won't. You'll be a dashing old man, Luke.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. I'm an expert on things like that.”

Luke smiled at her and turned his attention back to the horse, feeding it another slice of apple. Marshall ate it eagerly.

“Are you worried about something, Luke? You've been quiet all day. You didn't say half a dozen words at supper.”

Luke did not answer for so long that Joelle finally said, “Sometimes it helps to talk about things.”

“I'm not sure whether I ought to.”

“You can tell me, Luke. What is it?”

Hesitantly at first, then with courage, Luke began to speak of Melosa. He could not believe he was telling Joelle about her. “There was a young woman in Spain,” he said. “I fell in love with her. . . .” He told Joelle about his romance with Melosa and finally told about her horrible death. “She was so young and so beautiful, and she died before she could really live.”

Joelle moved closer to him and put her hand on his arm. “It must have been terrible for you,” she said softly.

“It was, but lately something else has been bothering me.”

“What's that, Luke?”

“It's hard to explain. I guess like all men in love I thought our love was eternal. It would never change. After she died, I was positive I'd never love another woman because I had loved her so much.” He hesitated, dropped his head, and looked down at the ground. “I thought I'd never even think of another woman, let alone love one. . . . But I do.”

Luke's words startled Joelle. She moved to where she could look at his face. The light of the moon illuminated his features, and she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I had a dream last night. I dreamed I was chasing Melosa through a field. She was laughing, and I ran after her and caught her. I took her by the shoulders and turned her around, but when I saw her face . . .” Luke took a deep breath. “It wasn't Melosa. It was you, Joelle.”

Joelle had long known she had deep feelings for Luke, and now she nervously waited for him to continue. When he did not, she said, “Does that mean you care for me, Luke?”

“I can't understand it. I thought my love for Melosa was forever, and here I find myself thinking of you all the time. That must mean I'm not much of a man.”

“I don't think that's the way it works, Luke,” Joelle whispered. “If a man loved me and I died, I'd want him to find another companion to share his life with.” She saw the misery written on his face and then impulsively did something she'd wanted to do for quite some time. She put her hands on his
shoulders, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. Then she said quietly, “You're a good man, Luke Williams.”

Joelle's kiss had startled Luke, but her use of the false name that he had given himself jarred him even more. It all came racing back to him. What he had done and how he had deceived Joelle. He stiffened and said, “I don't know why I told you all these things.”

Joelle felt Luke's withdrawal. She had expected him to finally show some affection, to admit his feelings for her, but it was as though a door had slammed shut, or perhaps more like he had put a sign around his neck saying
No Admittance—Keep Out.
She stared at him and said, “Is that all you have to say?”

Luke saw that he had hurt this woman, which was the last thing he wanted to do. “I'm sorry. I guess I'll have to work things out. I'm pretty confused.” Quickly he added, “I've been thinking of a way to get money to build a dorm for the boys.”

Joelle did not want to talk about future plans for the Haven at the moment. She wanted to know how he truly felt about her. But he continued to speak hurriedly. “The American Air Show takes place once a year in different cities. This year it's at Nashville. There are several contests, races, things like that, and there's some prize money. I think I'd have a shot at winning the aerobatics contest. I'm going to enter it, and if I win, we might have enough money to at least put up a building.”

“That would be fine, Luke,” Joelle said. She turned and walked away, her back stiff.

Luke felt miserable as he watched her go.
I've hurt her,
he thought,
but I'll make it up to her. I'll tell her the truth right after the air show. If I can win that contest and give her the money, maybe that'll help a little to make up for what I've done to her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The Truth Comes Out

Pushing the throttle fully forward, Luke flipped the biplane upside down. Beneath him the ground blurred, and he eased carefully down until he could almost feel the earth beneath him. This was the most dangerous move of his aerobatics and was one that he wanted to perform directly in front of the grandstands—particularly in front of the judges' stand. He had only a few seconds, but when he reckoned that he was in just the right place, he pulled up slightly and began to do rolls, with his wing tip coming breathtakingly close to the hard-packed ground each time. He pulled out and did the tightest inside loop the plane could handle. The abrupt turns and twists made it hard to keep track of exactly where he was in the air, and when he completed an outside loop, he felt the slightest nudge as the tip of his tail fin touched the ground.

Almost cut it too close that time.
He took a deep breath, headed skyward, and did a series of intricate rolls and loops as he finished his program.

Joelle was standing on the ground beside Glenn Frasier. Both of them were staring transfixed as the crowd cheered at each maneuver he performed. Glenn had to shout to make himself heard. “He's going to get himself killed with that routine. Ain't no prize worth getting killed for.”

Joelle felt as if she had an iron band around her chest. When Luke had told her about the daring routine he planned to do for the judges, she had pleaded with him not to put himself in that kind of danger, but Luke had paid her no
heed. He seemed to be driven by some inner force that she could not understand. Once she had asked him,
“Luke, why do you take such terrible chances?”

“All of life is a chance, Joelle,”
he had said, grinning back at her.
“You don't get anywhere without taking chances.”

The answer had not satisfied Joelle, and now as she watched Luke come in and land the biplane, she realized that her feelings for Luke had grown even stronger during the recent weeks. More than once she had thought about what would happen, what it would be like, if Luke were killed, and the very idea frightened her so intensely she could not sleep.

Now as she watched Luke pull himself out of the cockpit, she heard the crowd's roar and saw him smile. He pulled his helmet off, waved at the crowd, then leaped to the ground and came striding toward her.

Glenn stuck his hand out to shake Luke's hand. “Pal, you've got a death wish,” he said. “It was great, but I'm glad it's all over.”

“So am I,” Joelle agreed. She found that her knees were weak, and she studied Luke's face looking for signs of fear but could find none. “I want you to promise me you'll never do that crazy routine again.”

“I guess I can promise you that. It's all over now,” Luke said. He glanced over toward the judges' stand to see if he could detect any clues to their impression. “No telling how the judges will think.”

“When will they announce the results?”

“They'll announce all the winners after the last event.” He checked his pocket watch. “I figure we have at least two hours to kill. Do you want to get something to eat?”

****

Luke took Joelle to an Italian restaurant he had discovered in Nashville, and the two were eating spaghetti with meatballs. The freshly baked bread had a delicious aroma and tasted every bit as good as it smelled. Luke had doused
his spaghetti with hot sauce, and Joelle complained, “How can you even taste the spaghetti with that hot stuff on it?”

“This hot sauce brings out the flavor.”

Joelle ate slowly, for the dangerous aerobatics that Luke had put himself through had frightened her. He didn't seem to be bothered a bit. “Aren't you ever afraid when you're doing those things?” she finally asked.

“No. Not at all. I was too busy flying to be afraid. That's the way it was in Spain. When I was on the ground thinking about it after it was over, I'd get scared. But during the action, you don't have time to be afraid. You're so busy just doing your job. That's the way it is with aerobatics.”

“I don't like it, Luke. I don't want you to do that again.”

“Why, it's just a job, Joelle. I've been doing it for a long time now.”

“Luke, all it would take is one little mistake and you could be killed.”

“I guess you're right.” He looked down at his plate, then put his fork down and looked up, his eyes on hers. “Would that matter very much to you, Joelle?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, it would. You know it would, Luke.”

She sat very still, for this was the most intimate moment they had shared in weeks. She had known for some time that she loved this man, but he had stubbornly refused to admit exactly how he felt about her. More than once she had been sure that he was about to speak to her about his feelings, and she longed to hear it. Like all women she desired to hear words of love spoken aloud, but although Luke would come close to such a moment, something seemed to stop him, a barrier that she could not understand and that she hated. Now, however, there seemed to be an openness about him, and she quietly waited.

“I haven't said much about how I feel about you, Joelle,” Luke said softly. “But I can't hold it back any longer.”

“Why should you hold it back, Luke? If you have feelings for me, you should tell me. What's wrong with that?”

“I've had a difficult life, Joelle. I don't have much to offer any woman.”

“You've got yourself, Luke.” She reached over and grasped his hand tightly. “You must know how I feel about you. I'm not much good at hiding my feelings.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “I love you, Joelle.” The statement was simple, but his eyes revealed the intensity of his feelings, and she was acutely aware of the strength and warmth of his hand.

“Why haven't you told me before?”

“I just couldn't, but I can't hold it back any longer.” The two sat there for a long moment, then Luke grinned and said, “After we win the prize, I'm going to ask you a question. Your answer had better be yes.”

A great joy came to Joelle at that moment, for she knew she had found love after a long lifetime of searching. “I can tell you what my answer will be.”

“Hold it until after the awards. I want to have something to bring you.”

“It's the girl who's supposed to have a dowry.”

BOOK: The White Knight
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