Eileen Nauman

Touch The Heavens


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Chris.”

      The instant his hand touched hers, a thrilling pulse sent her heart beating faster. But before Chris could respond, Dan had removed his hand. He was an instructor at TPS. One of her instructors. And more than that, he was a major and she was below him in rank. Further, he was a relative stranger to her. There were a hundred reasons why Dan McCord shouldn’t have touched her. But her heart...oh, God, her heart surged with an instant’s joy at his touch.

      “I shouldn’t be so defensive,” she began. “I’m more tired than I thought from the trip.”

      Dan grinned easily. “Forget it. I understand.”

      The waitress came over and interrupted them. Chris ordered a Scotch on the rocks and Dan ordered a beer.

      “You’re hard to figure out,” she told Dan. “You should be anti-women pilots like everyone else.”

      His laugh was low, resonant. “I’m many things but not that. I’ll be truthful with you, Chris. I like your company.”

      “You’re coming on strong, Major.”

      “Why do you confuse honesty with a pass?” he parried.

      Chris blinked. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been around fighter jocks. You’re all alike. Real hotshots with a male ego a mile wide. You all think you have something to prove. Especially to a woman military pilot. I’m not interested in being your latest challenge, Major McCord.”

      “Ι’ll be the first to admit that I like the way you fill out that uniform.” His azure eyes grew dark. “And you’re right about me liking a challenge. I wouldn’t be in the test-pilot business if I didn’t. But you’re wrong about my being a fighter jock. I used to fly B-52 bombers. I flew the slower, heavier aircraft just like you did,” he said, his voice firm. “I flew the F-4 Phantom during the war. But otherwise, I was weaned on bombers and lived most of my military life in them. Now, does that make you feel a little guarded about me?”

      She liked his honesty. It became him. A slight smile edged her full lips. It was common knowledge that fighter jocks were far more aggressive than bomber pilots. “I would never have guessed it. But then, you are a paradox.”

      “Comes with the territory, Chris. I don’t know too many test pilots that aren’t like day and night, Jekyll and Hyde. You are, too, you know. So be careful of the pot calling the kettle black.”

      She relaxed within the aura of their parry-riposte conversation. Leaning her elbows on the table, she smiled. “Not me. If there is a set of words to describe me, it’s consistent, loyal and responsible.”

      Dan took a swallow of his beer, his eyes dancing with silent laughter. “I’d prefer to use more complimentary adjectives, such as beautiful, sensitive and shy.”

      Something happened inside Chris. Her heart raced strongly for a moment and she felt giddy—like a child. But she had never felt like a child in all her life. How had he brought out this hidden side of her—and on less than one day’s acquaintance! She couldn’t resist a smile. “You’re a fighter jock at heart, Major. I don’t care how long you flew bombers. You’re long on bs and short on sincerity.”

      Dan grinned wickedly. “Think so? We’ll see,” was all he said.

      * * *

      CHRIS WAS FINISHING off the last coat of polish on her fingernails when she heard a knock at the door.

      “Come in.” Who could it be? She knew no one on base yet except Dan McCord. A small, blonde woman in a dark blue uniform came in. Chris gasped, rising.

      “Karen! I don’t believe it.”

      “Finally, after a year we get to see each other again.” Her friend laughed, coming forward. Karen was only five-foot-three and reminded all who saw her of a blonde, blue-eyed pixie come to life. Careful not to smear the drying nail polish, Chris hugged her. Karen stepped back, taking off her cap and smoothing her short curly hair back into place.

      “Come on in the kitchen, Karen. Like some coffee?”

      The petite blonde made herself comfortable at the kitchen table. “Love some. I arrived at Edwards a little more than a month ago. I work over at Test Pilot School in Operations. As soon as I heard you were being assigned, I had to let you know you had a friend here.”

      Chris smiled happily, putting the coffee on. Karen and she had been roommates throughout their four years at the Air Force Academy. Afterward her friend had failed her flight test and gone into a different military career. But it hadn’t stopped them from remaining close over the years.

      “Right now, I could use a friend,” Chris confided.

      “Amen. You’re really biting off a big chunk by being the first woman in the Air Force to try for test-pilot status.”

      “Around these guys, I may just decide to clam up or watch my words. It’s safer that way, I think.”

      “I understand. In a sense, I’m glad I flunked out of pilot training, Chris. Watching you as you weather the chauvinism, the dirty looks and even worse verbal insults from the men would make me quit.” Karen gave her friend a keen look. “Every newspaper article I’ve read on you asked why you became the first woman test pilot. And your answer was always the same: you had earned the right to take a shot at the most prestigious job in the Air Force. Level with me. Why did you apply to TPS?”

      Chris sipped the coffee. “Maybe a better question would be, what makes Chris Mallory run the way she does?”

      “I thought it might be because you were orphaned and you don’t have anyone. Test piloting is risky. Maybe you had nothing to lose if you did die. Sounds dumb, I know.” And then she shrugged. “I never was good at psychology.”

      “You almost flunked out on it,” Chris agreed. “I love to fly, Karen. It’s that simple. I never told the press that because I would come off sounding like some pie-in-the-sky idealistic female.” She slowly turned the cup around in her hands. “Flying makes me happy, Karen. Up there, I’m free—free of the past. The sky has no memory. It forgives and forgets who and what you are or are not. I don’t have to remember that I’m an orphan. Or that I’m a woman in a very male-dominated business. Up there I’m a woman. And the sky doesn’t care. And neither does my aircraft.” She smiled sadly. “See, I told you it would sound philosophical and idealistic.”

      “No,” Karen murmured, “it sounds like you. There are a number of instructors over at TPS like you. They just live to fly. It’s their full-time mistress. They want nothing more out of life than to climb into the cockpit of a plane and take off for the blue sky.”

      “I think I just met one of those guys. Major Dan McCord.”

      Karen’s eyes widened. “Oh, him! He’s such a terrific guy, Chris. And he’s single, too.”

      Chris frowned. “No matchmaking,” she warned sternly. “By the way, how’s your love life?”

      “Much better. I’m dating an instructor by the name of Major Mark Hoffman. He’s wonderful.”

      “I can tell by the sound in your voice.”

      “You’ll like him. I know both Mark and Dan were excited about having you at TPS. They know a woman can be a fine test pilot, unlike a lot of other guys over there who think you’ll wash out before you set foot in the place.”

      Chris took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. “Well, when you consider I’ve never sat behind a stick of a fighter plane, they could be right. It means having to work twice as hard as any other student in order to make the grade.”

      “Isn’t that the truth? When will women ever get a fair shake? Why do we always have to start from behind and be twice as good as any man at something before we’re taken seriously?”

      “I don’t know. I thought I’d had enough of that pressure and stress when we went through four years of hell at the Academy. But here