The next morning, the slamming of the screen door awakened Rose. She jerked her head up from the pillow, her long red hair hanging in her face. Moving it aside impatiently, she glanced to the window. Pale gray light tinged with pink spilled from the glass across the room. Somewhere on a distant farm she could hear a rooster crowing. She groaned and buried her head back into the pillow.

A few minutes later, the door slammed again. Rose rolled over onto her back and sat up grumbling. Doesn't that man do anything quietly? She thought to herself as she swung her legs onto the floor. The hand holding the diamond was cramped from clutching the blue gem all night. Flexing the hand, she reached underneath the pillow, pulling the necklace out into the sunlight, watching blue shadows fire against the wall. Sighing, she placed it back in the hole at the bottom of her bag and buttoned it shut. She stood and turned towards the window, breathing deeply of the fresh spring air.

Last night when Sarah was showing her the bedrooms she was so tired she took the first door she had come to. She was now regretting letting lack of sleep rule her decision. The room was nice, if a little bare. It was certainly not the bedroom of one of the family. It had an emptiness about it, with plain white walls and a faded oriental rug on the floor. The metal frame bed was covered by a faded patchwork quilt and there was night stand that held the hurricane lamp she had used the night before alongside of the bed. The wooden floor was cool in the early morning hour where it wasn't covered by the rug. Along the north and east falls, four windows allowed a nice cross-breeze and plenty of the early morning sun.

But it was directly over the kitchen and the offending screen door.

The clear blue sky showed no traces of the storm that raged the night before. Rose bathed quickly from the pitcher and basin on the dresser and donned a pair of dark brown trousers and a homespun muslin shirt. She still marveled at the amount of movement the trousers allowed and how odd it felt the first few times she had worn them, not used to her legs swinging free. It was if she had to learn to walk all over again because she was so used to the restraint of the pencil thin dresses in style. Smiling gently to herself, she realized she had not worn a dress outside of the theatre in over six months. She brushed her long red hair until it shone and nimbly plaited it into a thick braid that hung down her back. Once complete, she found her way downstairs to the kitchen.

"Good morning, dear," Sarah greeted her with a large smile as she opened the oven to place biscuits on the metal rack. "Sleep well?" Charlie had already told her of Rose's midnight excursion to the back porch.

"Well enough, Sarah," Rose sniffed the air appreciatively. "Is that coffee I smell?"

Sarah nodded and filled a white ceramic cup. As she handed Rose the mug, she headed over to the ice box. "The milkman and the ice man came early this morning. Everything is fresh. Would you like some cream for your coffee?"

Rose shook her head and told her she liked her coffee black. "Where's Charlie?" Rose asked as she sipped the hot beverage, feeling the much needed caffeine flow through her veins.

"In his office, Owen's plane will be landing with the mail today and Charlie is just going over the log and checking any last minute arrangements," Sarah smiled, watching Rose stand at the back door staring at the hangar. "Go on out there, dear. He should be arriving with the first load any minute now. As soon as it is unloaded, Charlie can give you a lift to town."

Rose put down her cup and thanked Sarah again for her hospitality. Sarah waved her off and Rose was out the door striding across the dry field between the house and large red barn they used at the hangar. Rose winced as the back door slammed.

The sky was an azure blue, the fluffy white clouds spread out over the vastness of the plains. At least the storm cooled down the temperature a bit, she thought as she pushed aside the wisps of hair escaping her braid. Halfway across the field she became aware of buzzing sound, almost as if an angry bee were flying above her head. Where was it? Where was the sound coming from? She shielded her eyes from the sun, turning to scan the horizon and saw it, a tiny dot in the sky. Charlie came out of the hangar, flags in his hands, ready to guide the pilot onto the runway.

The small plane flew over her head and landed gracefully against the hard packed ground, leaving Rose breathless with envy.

She began to jog towards the runway as the plane came to a complete stop, the propeller winding down. The pilot jumped out of the cockpit and pulled off his goggles and flying cap. Rose stopped short with a gasp, feeling the blood run from her face. Suddenly, she wanted to turn back and run back to the house, her instincts screaming to run and hide. It's impossible! She thought to herself. The pilot shook Charlie's hand and they both turned to face her. Charlie waved her over, but Rose's feet felt as if they were rooted to the ground.

The man looked so much like Cal they could have been twins.

As she came closer and the pilot's features came more into focus, it became apparent although the pilot and Cal did resemble one another enough for it to be uncanny, the pilot's eyes were kind, not arrogant. His face held a warm smile as he spoke to Charlie. Still, Rose felt wary and watched him carefully as she walked slowly over to the red BI-plane.

At first when he saw Charlie wave to someone over his shoulder, Owen thought maybe Charlie had finally managed to scare up some help with the chores while his sons were off in the war. But as the fellow came closer, Owen felt a shock of surprise to see a beautiful young woman approaching them. His eyes widened in astonishment when she was a few feet away.

She was the first woman he had ever laid eyes on dressed as a man. The trousers and tailored shirt did nothing to hide the voluptuous figure underneath. Owen felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Who is that?" He asked Charlie under his breath and just before she came into earshot. "And where can I get one?"

Charlie shot him a dirty look over Rose's head. He was beginning to feel very paternal towards Rose Dawson and did not like at all what Owen was implying. Owen was thunderstruck by Rose's beauty. He couldn't stop staring at her full red lips and slightly golden smooth skin. Her blue eyes shone with intelligence and wisps of copper curled against her forehead. Owen smiled with deep regret. It was to bad he was leaving for France in a week. She was someone he would have loved to gotten to know better.

"Rose Dawson, please meet one of our finest pilots, Owen Morrow," Charlie said as he clapped a hand on Owen's shoulder and smiled broadly.

"Right now I'm your only pilot."

Owen did not quite know what to make of the expression on Rose's face. Her pretty lips were pursed as if she had sucked on a sour piece of candy. Not the reaction that he was used to from women. He smiled easily as he extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Dawson."

Rose stared at his hand, hesitating for a split second, with both Charlie and Owen catching her reluctance. She took his hand lightly and shook it briefly.

"Thank you, Mr. Morrow." Neither of the men had ever met Rose's mother but they just witnessed a very chilling likeness in Rose's voice. They exchanged odd looks over Rose's head.

"Well," Charlie said to break the uncomfortable silence. "How about we get those mailbags unloaded, shall we? Sarah should be calling us for breakfast soon."

He walked over to his truck, converted from a Model -T car to a flat bed truck, shaking his head in confusion. He was sure if he knew Rose Dawson for one hundred years; he would never understand what was going on in that silly female head of hers.

After Charlie walked away, the silence that surrounded Rose and Owen deepened. "So," said Owen rocking on his heels. "How'd you end up at Adler's Airfield?"

Rose looked up at him and then quickly away. It was disconcerting to be close to someone who looked so very much like Cal. She shrugged to hide her confusion before answering him. "Car trouble," she mumbled, kicking the ground with her boot.

Cal was someone that she had never expected to see or hear from again. Of everything that happened since the sinking of Titanic, he was the one person she found who was the easiest to forget.

But now, facing his doppelganger, she found it was difficult to steady her erratic pulse. Cal was a thousand miles away, ensconced in his world of steel mill takeovers and society parties. She was sure that Cal needed a woman to complete his picture of perfection, but she knew Cal wasn't capable of loving anyone except the all mighty dollar.

The steel business must be booming with the war, she thought as she ran her palm over her eyes. Her imagination conjured up a vision of him gleefully rubbing his hands over piles of money rapidly growing larger, at the cost of hundreds of thousands of innocent lives. She shook her head to banish the intrusive thought and looked away from Owen Morrow.

Owen nodded slowly, also confused. He shook his head in bafflement and decided to try another approach. "Have I met you somewhere before?"

He didn't think he could have forgotten a face like hers, but from her reaction to him, he wasn't sure.

"No, Mr. Morrow..." Rose began.

"Owen, please call me Owen."

"No, Mr...Owen, we have not met before," A tumble of confused thoughts and feelings assailed her. "I'm sorry, it's...it's just you remind me of someone I knew once, a long time ago."

"Must have been someone you didn't like very much," Owen said dryly.

Rose couldn't help herself as she burst out laughing. She glanced at Owen's stricken face, which made her laugh harder. "Mr. Morrow...Owen, that is an understatement." She couldn't hide the laughter from her voice. But it scared her, this emotional roller coaster that she was on. For so long now, she thought she finally had that awful night under control deep inside of herself. Between the painful memories last night and Owen today; she felt she was being haunted by her past.

Owen stood stock still. When he first saw her, he thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. But when she threw her head back and he heard that deep, warm, rich sound, he realized she was hiding something painful behind her laughter. All other thoughts were swept away as he watched Rose Dawson begin to compose herself. He wished he had more time to spend at Adler's Airfield so he could unravel this mysterious woman. But he had already made plans to spend as much time as possible with his family before he shipped out to France.

Charlie rumbled his truck over so he and Owen could begin to unload the cargo area of the plane. Owen stood on the wing, throwing the bags to Charlie who was tossing them onto the back of the flatbed.

"May I help?" Rose asked.

Charlie was about to demur when Owen threw a mailbag striking Rose in the chest.

"Ooof."

Rose's breath rushed out in surprise. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the twenty pound bag. She stumbled backwards to compensate for the extra weight, but managed to stay on her feet. She heaved the bag onto the flatbed and opened her arms in time to catch another. Before they knew it, the cargo area was empty and the flatbed full. Rose smiled with an air of calm and self-confidence, her emotions once again under control.

She turned towards the house as Sarah was yelling for them to come and get breakfast.

"Let's go," Charlie growled, opening the driver's side door of the truck. "I'm starving."

Rose was shoved in the middle of two men she had just met and barely knew. She felt her body tighten as she struggled not to jostle either of them on the short ride to the house.

The smell of fresh eggs, pancakes, sausages and home fries wafted through the open door and Rose's stomach gave a very unladylike growl. Both men turned to look at her and she smiled sheepishly as she followed them up the porch steps.

Rose's belly was fuller than it had been in a long, long time. Somehow she had the feeling if she hung around here to long she would out grow her few precious pairs of trousers. Throughout the whole meal she could feel the heavy weight of Owen's eyes on her. She resisted the urge to blatantly return his stare, instead attacking her breakfast as if she were a condemned man on death row.

She suddenly craved a cigarette, which she hadn't wanted since she departed New Orleans.

"When do you leave for France?" Charlie asked Owen as he shoveled Sarah's homemade biscuits into his mouth.

"Friday," Owen replied. "I have to take a train from Chicago to Pier 54 in New York and then I sail on the Mauretainia for France."

Rose choked on her orange juice, spilling it into her lap. All eyes swung to her. Sarah got up to bang on her back but Rose waved her away. "I'll be okay," she said choking on her words. "I must have swallowed wrong."

Owen's eyes narrowed. He had been watching her face and was surprised to see recognition flash across her features.

"Sailed the Mauretainia before, have you Rose?" He asked quietly.

Rose took a quick breath of total astonishment. She couldn't rally quick enough to hide her surprise at his question, so she nodded her head silently. "Quite a few years ago, actually. My family took a holiday abroad, we sailed on the Mauretainia to England. Is it safe enough to pass with the U-boats out and about?" She asked, trying to turn the conversation away from her and her past.

Owen looked at her, his eyes, so like Cal's, hooded like those of a hawk. "Safe enough, I imagine. America is a force to be reckoned with. Although we are at war, I don't think those Jerries would want to get us riled by torpedoing a ship with American troops on board."

"I agree," Charlie said as he pushed back his plate and rose from the table. "Owen will be joining our sons in the 94th Aero Squadron. If you don't mind, Owe, Sarah and I have some letters we would like to deliver to the boys once you get settled." Owen nodded, since he knew both Doug and Rob since grammar school.

"I still can't believe how quiet it is around here with the both of them gone." Sarah said wistfully as she smiled at Jason. "Now you're off, too. I suppose I always knew it was a matter of time before you followed them to France, the three of you were always inseparable." She looked up her eyes full of tears.

"Tell them I miss them something fierce, will you please?"

Owen nodded sadly. He would miss the Adler's' as much as he would miss his own parents. But the war was where he belonged. He also missed his two best friends and was eager to join them in their adventures.

"Come on, Owen. Let's go get that plane of yours gassed up so you can get on out of here. Rose, I'll be ready to go to town in an hour." Charlie's voice sounded odd, as if he had something stuck in his throat. He walked out of the back door without a second glance and for the first time he did not let the screen door slam behind him.

Sarah got up from the table as hugged Owen tightly. "You be careful, hear me?" She said as tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. "Let my two boys take care of you like I know you'll be taking care of them." Owen nodded solemnly and bid Rose good-bye. Sarah stood proudly as she moved to the door to watch him walk across the field, as if she were afraid it was the last time she would see him.

Rose cleared and washed the breakfast dishes to take her mind off her troubles. She liked Sarah immensely and did not realize until today how brave she was with both of her sons in France. If anything happened to them, she would lose two of the most precious people of her life. She admired this tiny petite woman for the courage she was able to show during this troubling war.

Before too long she heard the buzz of the airplane's engine and walked out onto the porch to join Sarah as she watched Owen take off for home. They stood there until they could not hear the sound of the engine or see the small BI- plane in the clouds. They turned together as one and finished the cleaning in silence.

On their way to town, Charlie spoke of his two sons. "It was Doug who got us into the airplane business. When he heard of what the Wright brothers accomplished back in '03, you would have thought he'd died and gone to heaven. It didn't take long for that enthusiasm to spread to his brother Rob. Those two boys were always inseparable. They were the most well behaved pair of brothers that I ever laid my eyes on.

"When the fields dried up, oh six or seven years ago, Doug said 'Let's build us an airfield, Pop. We're in a prime location for deliveries to Chicago, Philadelphia and St. Louis. The future is in the air!'" Charlie smiled at the memory.

"Mind you that boy was only twenty-two years old then; when he bought his first plane with the money their father left him, a beautiful Curtiss-Jenny. Robbie must have been going on nineteen. Doug was a natural flyer, and under his tutorial Robbie and I became halfway decent pilots too. We had a booming business there, with government contracts and all, but who can predict a war? I suppose we should have seen it coming, with all the atrocities going on over there, but I guess we literally had our heads in the clouds."

He smiled sadly. "Now all the pilots and young men are over in a foreign country, fighting a foreign war. Owen was our last pilot and he's off to fight for freedom too," he shook his head ruefully.

Silently, he prayed for the safekeeping of his adoptive sons and for Owen as he pulled turned his truck into town.

Rose tried to smile with more confidence then she felt. "I'm sure they will be home soon." She had seen legions of young men standing on train platforms, waiting for trains that would whisk them to New York, their uniforms so crisp and new. Most of them hardly looked old enough to be out of school, let alone off to fight a war. Charlie smiled at her with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes as he nodded in agreement.

The town of Collier's Grove filled one square mile. It had a Main Street, complete with the usual stores and large houses. Side streets wound around Main Street in a small circle. It was a quaint little town.

He pulled the truck in front of the post office and turned off the engine. Charlie smiled as he got out of the truck. "We'll drop this load off at the post office and head on over to Henry's."

Rose's tire was lying on the back of the flatbed among the bags of mail. She helped with the unloading, much to the surprise of the old clerk who stood opened mouthed, staring at her legs. "If you have to shock them," Rose remembered one of the older women in theater troop saying, "shock them good."

She rolled her tire down the half block to Henry's garage without assistance from Charlie. He had offered, but she refused, much to his chagrin. It still managed to amaze her, women and men were still so scandalized by her public appearance in trousers. She could imagine they thought of her as one of those 'fast' women. Rose tried to smile at a woman passing her on the street, but the older woman sniffed and raised her nose in the air. Rose smiled wickedly at Charlie and remarked, "People fear what they don't understand, Charlie, it's a fact of my life."

He returned her smile and nodded in agreement.

Henry Toggle was an overweight man with greasy hair and an even greasier smile. Rose was appalled by his smell: motor grease and body odor. He clenched an unlit cigar between his teeth as he shook Charlie's hand, while he stared unabashed at Rose. He shook her hand and tried to let the handshake linger, but she snatched it back. Her mouth curled up in disgust as her hand came away black and grimy. She could not resist the urge to wipe the grease off her hand but she did not want to wipe it on her clean trousers. Her hand just hung there in the air, fingers twitching with disgust. She smiled gratefully at Charlie as he handed her his clean handkerchief.

"Whatcha need?" Henry asked as his gaze wandered over her face, her breasts and her legs. Rose felt incredibly dirty and angered just being around this horrid man. She combated the urge to point to her eyes and yell, "Here I am, here! Look me in the eyes, not my breasts!" But she knew tit would be futile. Men like Henry Toggle tended to be turned on by women with uppity airs. Besides, she needed something from this man and until she got it she would have to remain uncomfortably in his presence.

"I need a tire, Henry." Charlie said stiffly and Rose realized he did not like Henry Toggle much either.

Henry shook his head and smiled, allowing Rose to see several gaps where teeth once resided. "No tires. Next shipment expected in 60 days."

"You sure about that, Henry?" Charlie asked quietly.

"Yup. Backed up cause of the war. Nuthin' I can do about it," he smiled lustfully in Rose's direction again. She suddenly realized that Charlie was slowly edging in front of her to block her from Henry's view. He thanked Henry and they turned around and walked out single file so Charlie would block Rose's receding backside.

"What an awful man!" Rose exclaimed when they were out of earshot. "If I hadn't needed a tire, I may have...I may have had to punch him in that red, ugly, bulbous nose!"

Charlie laughed at the idea of diminutive Rose punching someone like Henry. He too had to quench the urge to take Henry out back and beat him senseless, but he also had to resist the urge to admonish Rose on her uncovential attire, which only added fuel to the leering man's libido.

They walked back to the truck in silence. "You know you're welcome to stay with Sarah and me until your tire is ready." Charlie said as he climbed into the cab of the truck. He felt bad that Rose would have to be stuck here for six weeks and felt she would be safer from men like Henry back at his farm.

Rose nodded as she shut her door. "I'll pay you for the room and board." Charlie tried to argue, but Rose was not listening to him protest. They drove in silence the rest of the way home. As they pulled into the drive, Rose opened her mouth and closed it several times, obviously working up the nerve to speak. As the house came near, she suddenly blurted out:

"Teach me to fly, Charlie."

He stopped the truck outside the house, but made no move to get out of the cab. He stared straight at the empty fields in front of him, weighing her words in his mind.

"No, Rose," he said finally as he opened the driver's side door and moved to get out of the cab.

Rose jumped out of the truck and slammed the door. She hurried around the hood of the truck to stand toe to toe with Charlie. "What do you mean, no?" A sudden thin chill hung on the edge of her words.

"Women are not meant to fly," he said, putting his hands on his hips, as he looked down at her.

Rose's eyes widened in disbelief as her face flushed with fury. "Women were not meant to fly? How do you know that Charlie? Have you ever given a woman a chance to learn to fly?"

"No Rose, I haven't given a woman a chance to fly and I'm not about to now." Like her voice, his too began to rise. "You'll either kill yourself or take me along with you."

Sarah came around the house where she had been working in her garden; her tan face lined with worry. She had been drawn by sound of their raised voices. They were not yelling yet, but they would be soon. She stood there silently, wiping her sweating brow with her forearm.

"What means do you have to base that observation on?" Rose asked, her blue eyes blazing. She knew she had not known Charlie long, but he always seemed like he was a reasonable man. It never even crossed her mind until later that this man could have thrown her out of his home without a second thought.

"I don't need any means," he spat. "It's a fact of life. You're a woman, women do not fly."

Rose's temper exploded. "How dare you! Of all the pompous, arrogant things to say! I'll let you in on a little secret, Charlie. I have lived on my own for five years, since I was seventeen years old. I have climbed the Adirondack Mountains and I've gone gator hunting in the bayous of Louisiana. I've even dressed as a man and visited the red light district of New Orleans. I've survived a shipwreck, a tornado and a hurricane.

"I've also driven alone in my car halfway across the country. I think I could learn to fly a damn airplane if given half a chance."

Hot tears of rage filled her steel blue eyes. "I'm not like other women, Charlie," her voice broke as she spoke his name. She turned quickly and ran for the barn before the tears spilled. She did not want Charlie to see them and use them as a sign of weakness.

Charlie was speechless as he stared at her retreating back. Sarah came up to him and placed her arm around his waist. He hugged her tight to him as he looked down into his wife's gentle eyes.

"That girl's soul is a lot older than you or me. Take a good long look at the pain in her eyes and you'll see what I'm talking about," Sarah said as Charlie looked down on her in confusion.

"Besides, with all the boys gone off to war, she might be all we have. Maybe she's the miracle we've been praying for to save our land. You can't fly the contracts and keep up with this field yourself, Charlie," she smiled at him.

"Maybe you should accept a little help once in a while."

Charlie nodded and hugged his wife.

"Let me go talk to her," Charlie said, squeezing his wife one final time before he strode across the barren field.

He found her in the hangar, sitting on the wing of his son's Curtiss-Jenny. If she crashed it, he loathed thinking of the hell he would have to pay when Doug found out. He watched as she wrestled with something deep inside of herself. Her face was like a mirror to her very soul, every thought showed plainly across her aristocratic features. She looked so young, so small, sitting there chewing on her bottom lip.

He sighed and walked over to her. She glanced up at him, her eyes now veiled. "You'll learn to fly the hard way, Rose." He said as he ran a hand through his hair. "You'll learn to fly from the ground up. If the war ends and my boys come home, that's it. We stop the lessons. Agreed?"

Instead of the emotional outpouring he expected, she looked up at him solemnly. "All I want is a chance to prove myself."

Charlie nodded and Rose slowly smiled, like the sun bursting through the clouds. "Agreed."

She shook his hand and embarked down the road to one of her greatest adventures.