FIC: Flight of the Phoenix ~ Stand-alone (2/3)
Title: Flight of the Phoenix ~ Part two of three
Authors: aussie and bugs
Genre: A/U (of the A/U), Romance, Humor
Word Count:17,700
Rating: M
A/N: So sorry, faithful readers. We will get back to Unavailable, we swear. But we needed a fic for about_time's 12 Days of Christmas, so we went to our favorites, the Adams!
III.
As they rolled together in the hay, Laura wondered what was wrong. Even though he’d undressed her, Bill wasn’t doing that. He was only touching and kissing her all over--Which was very pleasant...Actually, more than pleasant, but not what she was accustomed to at all. She pressed a shaking hand to her forehead.
His mouth latched onto her breast and she arched upward. "Oh, my," she panted.
His chuckle around her nipple only made her writhe more.
Perhaps he needed some more encouragement. "Bill, is there something I can do?" she gasped, moving onto her back in an unspoken invitation.
"Yeah," he panted, taking her hand. Together, they pushed off his boxers, but then he guided her fingers to grasp his length, making her gasp even louder.
That wasn't what she had in mind, but now that she was touching him, her curiosity got the better of her. Different textures than she had ever felt, heated skin and moisture. He seemed much bigger than she remembered Richard to be. The thought scared and excited her all at once.
Then he was touching her too. Brushing along the inside of her thighs with the back of his hand, inadvertently tickling the sensitive skin there. A giggle welled up inside her, but she gulped it down. Men didn’t like it when you laughed at them in bed; this much she knew.
His fingers slid higher, stroking lightly across her swollen, sensitive flesh before gently probing deeper, imitating what he was about to do to her. Her grip around him, causing his breathing to hitch, forcing out a harsh groan.
"Damn you, Laura."
"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, snatching her hand away.
He gathered up her hand and kissed the palm, all the time, his fingers still moving between her legs. "'s okay," he croaked. "You're just driving me mad."
"That's not my intention," she promised.
Lightning flashed, flooding the loft with light long enough for her to see his wide grin.
She swore she could feel the very pads of his fingers as he stroked her depths. His thumb swirled with increasing pressure on a nub of flesh which began to pulse with pleasure.
Completely overwhelmed, she still found the energy to open her thighs and he dropped down between them. Grabbing his wide shoulders, she held him fast to her, the lashing rain on the roof frightening and exciting her at the same time. Sliding her hands across his rippling back muscles until her palms cupped his bottom. With that encouragement, he shifted closer, his fingers sliding out to be replaced.
This was it, she realized. Her stomach clenched, her old insecurities coming back even though Bill hadn’t once protested at her eager touch. She lifted her head up so she could kiss him as he entered her. She liked his kisses; they would make that initial pain lessen.
His lips covered hers, easing her mouth open with the same gentle insistence as his length entered her body. The kiss turned into something completely different from the others they’d shared. His tongue probed hers. She tentatively returned the caresses, unsure but finding the sensations stimulating. He thrust deeper and she froze beneath him. This was all too much--
“Bill, please, no,” she protested, turning her head away. He immediately withdrew, rocking back on his heels above her. She warily watched him in the dim light, waiting for his anger at her rejection.
All he did though was give her one of those toothy grins again. “You’re right. We need to warm you up first. Been a long time since that jerk in college?”
Her mouth tight, she nodded shortly. He didn't have to remind her how long it had been--
Ignoring her stiffened body, his eyes roamed her body, as if she was a tasty dish and he was particularly ravenous...
Before she could think further, he was touching her again. He nestled into the thick straw beside her, drawing her close. This time, like the kiss, it was different, and much more intimate. His mouth suckled at her heated skin, nibbling her thundering pulse and tender earlobes until her head swam from lack of oxygen. She was loose and liquid again, from the sheen of sweat on her body to the waves flooding his hand--back between her legs once again. His fingers slid between her petals, parting and caressing her aching flesh. He circled his thumb again; playing with the swelling nub, the pulse matching her thundering heart ...
Bill had only touched Laura for a few moments when she fell apart. “Been a while?” he asked, his voice full of humor. Under his palm, she continued to quiver from aftershocks of sensation.
“Bill?” she gasped, her eyes wide. “That was...”
“Quick,” he finished for her teasingly. Then, something in her eyes made him pause. She wasn’t just satisfied, she was truly shocked. She wasn’t a virgin, but... He should have known. Any man who’d throw her over for another woman had to be a selfish idiot.
She sat up and peered at him. “What did you do?” she asked in the same clinical tone she probably used in the classroom. He suddenly felt as though he was in the front row and she was waiting for an answer, tapping her hand impatiently with her ruler.
“Me? It was all you, sweetheart.” He gently brushed away a piece of hay caught in her hair. “And it might take a bit longer, but I’m sure you can do that again,” he assured her huskily.
He watched a series of expressions flit across her face, until finally she surprised him by letting out a whoop of laughter.
“Sorry,” she exclaimed, slapping her hand over her mouth. Still unable to control herself, she fell back over into the straw.
He took advantage of her vulnerability as she continued to try and stifle her giggles, and hooked those damn gorgeous gams around his shoulders.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he murmured, lying his head near her navel and breathing in her scent enthusiastically. “We’ll do it again.”
~*~
Laura lay nestled on Bill's damp and heaving chest, her thoughts racing. So this is what it felt to be a rich man's mistress...Much better than she would expect. She tried to remember from books and movies what would happen next. A bittersweet farewell, and she'd be left sadder but wiser? A downward spiral, with whispers behind hands in the grocery store? Grotesque prominent businessman Harold Clapper, with his bulbous nose and hair coming out of his ears, making a repulsive offer to her outside the town saloon?
"Tyrol got that clamp to me earlier," Bill rumbled comfortably, oblivious to her unsettled thoughts.
"That's nice," she choked out.
His big hand tugged the blanket over her cooling back. "Once we've got the bird repaired, I'll fly on to Reno, and you can take the train to meet me there."
"Reno? Why would I go to Nevada?" she asked, confused.
He peered down at her. "We can get married there in a day, silly." He kissed her nose.
"We're getting married?"
"Of course." He rose on his elbows. "What sort of man do you take me for?" he asked, outraged. "What sort of woman do you think that I think you are?"
"I thought--Reno?" She shook her head. "What then?"
"You'll come to my home in San Francisco, of course," he said in a manly tone.
Her ire rose immediately. "But what about my home, the students...Jake!"
"You sell the farm, hire a new teacher and put Jake in a crate on the train!" he pronounced, beginning to glare at her suspiciously. "Listen, you want to get married, right? Why else would you--"
She managed to scramble to her feet. "I don't recall being asked! Only ordered onto a train like a load of freight!"
Bill took a deep breath before speaking as calmly as he could manage. "Miss Laura Roslin, will you do the honor of being my wife?" Any sense of romance was lost when he grumbled: "There, happy?"
She turned her back. "No," she hissed. Her fretful thoughts were now racing like a runaway horse. She needed time to consider all of this, and she really should have done that before removing her nightgown, but that horse was long gone from the barn, in a manner of speaking.
Bill came and gently but firmly gripped her arms before behind, tugging her to his chest. "Laura," he murmured in her ear.
"What?" she whispered.
He said exactly the wrong thing. "Don't be a silly goose."
She wriggled loose. "I'm not being silly! I will not be ordered around like some servant--"
"Laura, I'm not doing that--"
"Yes you are." She snatched up her gown and pulled it on, then looked around for her coat and galoshes. "You don't know me at all and yet you wish to marry me? That's like hiring a new maid!"
Ignoring his state of undress, he folded his arms across his bare chest. "I know everything I need to know. You're a living doll, smart as a whip, like the same books..." His gaze moved to the haypile. "And you drive me crazy.”
“Well, of course you should marry me then,” she huffed sarcastically.
Avoiding his imploring gaze, she buttoned her raincoat. “I need to get back to the house. We definitely aren’t married yet.”
She hooked her feet onto the ladder and climbed down from the hayloft with as much dignity as she could muster.
A few steps from the barn door, he caught up with her. He’d only had time to tug on his trousers. She swayed in his direction; his naked chest silently begged for her to caress it again.
“Look, baby--”
It was enough to bring her to her senses. “Don’t call me baby!” she growled. Perversely she realized that not once had she protested against the endearment when he was whispering it along her skin earlier.
“I’ve had men treating me like an old maid for years, and now you are treating me like a child. I’m a mature woman with a mind of her own, and I’ll decide when, if, I get married. And it won’t be just because of a roll in the hay.”
Bill released her. Another illogical wave of petulance washed over her. Fine, she'd leave. She stomped out of the barn without a backward look.
Running his fingers through his hair, Bill shook his head. He fished his cigarettes out of his pocket. This woman most definitely was driving him crazy.
~*~
In her bedroom, Laura stripped off her clothes. Again she’d managed to get soaking wet on the short trip from the barn to the house. At this rate, she’d catch a chill to add to her woes.
She absentmindedly found a towel; her mind returning completely to Bill Adams.
She knew what sort of woman most people would think she was--all too willing to become a man’s mistress, yet balking at taking his hand in marriage--but she’d seen enough miserable marriages to deter her from that sort of life. The Adairs, the Cavils, her parents...There had been other opportunities after Richard. Even a few proposals. But somehow, she'd developed this fantasy of the marriage she wanted. One with mutual respect and interests, dignity for both partners, and of all things, some fun. She hadn't had much fun in her life. Bill did seem as though marriage with him would be fun...
Impatient, she rubbed the roughened material against her already-sensitized skin, wanting to erase all evidence of her and Bill’s lovemaking as well as the rain.
He’d already decided her job was unimportant! Pack up and move to San Francisco, indeed!
She shivered, nothing to do with the rain’s coolness.
She ran the edge of the towel between her legs. So much for erasing the evidence, instead she was evoking memories... Bill’s fingers, and later his tongue, finding that sweet spot she had never known existed until tonight. She could find it herself, he’d said...
See, he as much as admitted she didn’t need a husband!
She would ignore the fact she’d been praying for someone to take her away from Adair only that morning...
She was startled by a sharp bark from Jake on the porch. She moved to the window and peered out, her gaze immediately drawn to the barn. It was still raining, but she saw the telltale glow of a cigarette just beneath the eaves of the barn. So much for not smoking near the hay. He had just said that to get her flat on her back.
Not that she’d been ever got into that position...
“Do you like to be on top?” he’d asked, the huskiness of his tone making her languid body taut again after the onslaught of his hands and mouth. “It might help keep me going a bit longer. I’m not gonna last...”
“I... I don’t know,” she finally admitted in a whisper.
“You’ll like it,” he’d assured her. “You’ll be in control.”
And she had been. After his initial guidance, she’d decided when they’d go faster and harder, what particular angle their bodies would be joined. Her eyes watered. Bill had loved her excitement and enthusiasm. So different to Richard...
She moved away from the window again and slid under her bed covers, flicking off her lamp angrily. That was no reason to marry the man!
~*~
Bill stared up at Laura’s darkened window. The only woman he’d wanted to marry since Carolanne, and she had to be the most stubborn, independent... Lovely. She was lovely.
As he'd increased his family's respectable income from its mines, property and oil wells into great wealth, he’d had all manner of women chasing him. Influential businessmen even threw their daughters in his direction. He’d attended a party just a few weeks ago where shipping magnate Ernesto Capra’s daughter Cynthia had been only too eager to show him her charms if it meant she’d then become the next Mrs Bill Adams.
He wanted a wife he could talk to, argue with, laugh with...
He dragged on his cigarette and contemplated just bursting into the house to talk some sense into Laura. He couldn’t though. Anders or Tyrol could turn up early in the morning and--
Over the noise of the rain, he suddenly heard Jake barking and soon after saw the dog flash past him into the barn.
Frowning, Bill followed the dog’s trail to the dark interior, where he and Tyrol had been working on the Phoenix. Jake had his quarry cornered near the left wing of the plane. Finding the lantern, Bill lit it, and held it high.
“Can I help you with something there, Reverend Cavil?” Bill asked.
“Oh, Mr Adams! You gave me such a fright.” The minister, who'd been cowering under the wing, straightened upright while staying away from the growling dog. Bill wished he was wearing his glasses. Had Cavil just pocketed a gun while making a show of placing his hand over his heart?
Bill clicked his fingers for Jake to heel. “Well, I must say I wasn’t expecting you to be out on such a rainy night either,” he said smoothly to the unexpected visitor.
“No, no. My wife and I visited our good neighbors, the Tyrols, this evening. When we found Mr Anders there, we agreed it was my duty to come and check that Miss Roslin was not being taken advantage of.”
Bill started. Surely if the man had been snooping the barn below where he and Laura had been making love he would have heard something--Then he noticed the back door standing ajar. He must have just slipped in, thankfully.
“Miss Roslin’s in her home. I'm sure snug in her bed on such a night," he said gratefully. He didn’t want Laura anywhere near this guy.
“Yes. I’m afraid I got distracted on my way to the house. You see, I have a great interest in aviation too, and war planes in particular. I just couldn’t stop myself from coming and seeing the Phoenix for myself, after hearing so much about it from Giles. I knew you wouldn’t mind, Mr Adams.” The older man's smirk was oily.
"Actually, I do mind," rasped Bill, taking a step closer. "This is a delicate machine, already damaged. I don't appreciate strangers poking at it."
"I didn't touch it!" protested Cavil, backing up with raised hands.
"In that case, you might as well move along. Miss Roslin's safe, and you can't see much of the plane in the dark." Bill kept advancing, driving Cavil to the barn door.
"Well, really!" The minister fussed, but he left the barn and hurried to his waiting automobile.
Bill noticed the blonde head in the passenger seat, but the woman didn't speak or wave at him.
After he was sure the car was gone, Bill headed to the little shed where Sam Anders slept. Rapping on the door, he woke the young man. He wasn't sure that the repairs would hold up to flight, but he had to get his plane out of Adair, and now.
Laura had finally started to drift off to sleep, the mental arguments between her and herself having come to a bitter stand-off, when she heard the sound of a large engine starting outside.
Struggling from her bed, she rushed to the window. The rain had stopped, and now the full moon lit the farm almost as bright as day. She spotted where the sound came from. Bill's plane was on the county road, its propellers whirling. Sam stood by his farm truck, holding his hat against the strong wind. The plane started to move, rolling down the road.
As it picked up speed, Laura flung open the window. Foolishly, she cried out, "Bill!" but it was too late. The plane lifted off and rose into the night sky.
~end 2/3
Authors: aussie and bugs
Genre: A/U (of the A/U), Romance, Humor
Word Count:17,700
Rating: M
A/N: So sorry, faithful readers. We will get back to Unavailable, we swear. But we needed a fic for about_time's 12 Days of Christmas, so we went to our favorites, the Adams!
III.
As they rolled together in the hay, Laura wondered what was wrong. Even though he’d undressed her, Bill wasn’t doing that. He was only touching and kissing her all over--Which was very pleasant...Actually, more than pleasant, but not what she was accustomed to at all. She pressed a shaking hand to her forehead.
His mouth latched onto her breast and she arched upward. "Oh, my," she panted.
His chuckle around her nipple only made her writhe more.
Perhaps he needed some more encouragement. "Bill, is there something I can do?" she gasped, moving onto her back in an unspoken invitation.
"Yeah," he panted, taking her hand. Together, they pushed off his boxers, but then he guided her fingers to grasp his length, making her gasp even louder.
That wasn't what she had in mind, but now that she was touching him, her curiosity got the better of her. Different textures than she had ever felt, heated skin and moisture. He seemed much bigger than she remembered Richard to be. The thought scared and excited her all at once.
Then he was touching her too. Brushing along the inside of her thighs with the back of his hand, inadvertently tickling the sensitive skin there. A giggle welled up inside her, but she gulped it down. Men didn’t like it when you laughed at them in bed; this much she knew.
His fingers slid higher, stroking lightly across her swollen, sensitive flesh before gently probing deeper, imitating what he was about to do to her. Her grip around him, causing his breathing to hitch, forcing out a harsh groan.
"Damn you, Laura."
"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, snatching her hand away.
He gathered up her hand and kissed the palm, all the time, his fingers still moving between her legs. "'s okay," he croaked. "You're just driving me mad."
"That's not my intention," she promised.
Lightning flashed, flooding the loft with light long enough for her to see his wide grin.
She swore she could feel the very pads of his fingers as he stroked her depths. His thumb swirled with increasing pressure on a nub of flesh which began to pulse with pleasure.
Completely overwhelmed, she still found the energy to open her thighs and he dropped down between them. Grabbing his wide shoulders, she held him fast to her, the lashing rain on the roof frightening and exciting her at the same time. Sliding her hands across his rippling back muscles until her palms cupped his bottom. With that encouragement, he shifted closer, his fingers sliding out to be replaced.
This was it, she realized. Her stomach clenched, her old insecurities coming back even though Bill hadn’t once protested at her eager touch. She lifted her head up so she could kiss him as he entered her. She liked his kisses; they would make that initial pain lessen.
His lips covered hers, easing her mouth open with the same gentle insistence as his length entered her body. The kiss turned into something completely different from the others they’d shared. His tongue probed hers. She tentatively returned the caresses, unsure but finding the sensations stimulating. He thrust deeper and she froze beneath him. This was all too much--
“Bill, please, no,” she protested, turning her head away. He immediately withdrew, rocking back on his heels above her. She warily watched him in the dim light, waiting for his anger at her rejection.
All he did though was give her one of those toothy grins again. “You’re right. We need to warm you up first. Been a long time since that jerk in college?”
Her mouth tight, she nodded shortly. He didn't have to remind her how long it had been--
Ignoring her stiffened body, his eyes roamed her body, as if she was a tasty dish and he was particularly ravenous...
Before she could think further, he was touching her again. He nestled into the thick straw beside her, drawing her close. This time, like the kiss, it was different, and much more intimate. His mouth suckled at her heated skin, nibbling her thundering pulse and tender earlobes until her head swam from lack of oxygen. She was loose and liquid again, from the sheen of sweat on her body to the waves flooding his hand--back between her legs once again. His fingers slid between her petals, parting and caressing her aching flesh. He circled his thumb again; playing with the swelling nub, the pulse matching her thundering heart ...
Bill had only touched Laura for a few moments when she fell apart. “Been a while?” he asked, his voice full of humor. Under his palm, she continued to quiver from aftershocks of sensation.
“Bill?” she gasped, her eyes wide. “That was...”
“Quick,” he finished for her teasingly. Then, something in her eyes made him pause. She wasn’t just satisfied, she was truly shocked. She wasn’t a virgin, but... He should have known. Any man who’d throw her over for another woman had to be a selfish idiot.
She sat up and peered at him. “What did you do?” she asked in the same clinical tone she probably used in the classroom. He suddenly felt as though he was in the front row and she was waiting for an answer, tapping her hand impatiently with her ruler.
“Me? It was all you, sweetheart.” He gently brushed away a piece of hay caught in her hair. “And it might take a bit longer, but I’m sure you can do that again,” he assured her huskily.
He watched a series of expressions flit across her face, until finally she surprised him by letting out a whoop of laughter.
“Sorry,” she exclaimed, slapping her hand over her mouth. Still unable to control herself, she fell back over into the straw.
He took advantage of her vulnerability as she continued to try and stifle her giggles, and hooked those damn gorgeous gams around his shoulders.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he murmured, lying his head near her navel and breathing in her scent enthusiastically. “We’ll do it again.”
~*~
Laura lay nestled on Bill's damp and heaving chest, her thoughts racing. So this is what it felt to be a rich man's mistress...Much better than she would expect. She tried to remember from books and movies what would happen next. A bittersweet farewell, and she'd be left sadder but wiser? A downward spiral, with whispers behind hands in the grocery store? Grotesque prominent businessman Harold Clapper, with his bulbous nose and hair coming out of his ears, making a repulsive offer to her outside the town saloon?
"Tyrol got that clamp to me earlier," Bill rumbled comfortably, oblivious to her unsettled thoughts.
"That's nice," she choked out.
His big hand tugged the blanket over her cooling back. "Once we've got the bird repaired, I'll fly on to Reno, and you can take the train to meet me there."
"Reno? Why would I go to Nevada?" she asked, confused.
He peered down at her. "We can get married there in a day, silly." He kissed her nose.
"We're getting married?"
"Of course." He rose on his elbows. "What sort of man do you take me for?" he asked, outraged. "What sort of woman do you think that I think you are?"
"I thought--Reno?" She shook her head. "What then?"
"You'll come to my home in San Francisco, of course," he said in a manly tone.
Her ire rose immediately. "But what about my home, the students...Jake!"
"You sell the farm, hire a new teacher and put Jake in a crate on the train!" he pronounced, beginning to glare at her suspiciously. "Listen, you want to get married, right? Why else would you--"
She managed to scramble to her feet. "I don't recall being asked! Only ordered onto a train like a load of freight!"
Bill took a deep breath before speaking as calmly as he could manage. "Miss Laura Roslin, will you do the honor of being my wife?" Any sense of romance was lost when he grumbled: "There, happy?"
She turned her back. "No," she hissed. Her fretful thoughts were now racing like a runaway horse. She needed time to consider all of this, and she really should have done that before removing her nightgown, but that horse was long gone from the barn, in a manner of speaking.
Bill came and gently but firmly gripped her arms before behind, tugging her to his chest. "Laura," he murmured in her ear.
"What?" she whispered.
He said exactly the wrong thing. "Don't be a silly goose."
She wriggled loose. "I'm not being silly! I will not be ordered around like some servant--"
"Laura, I'm not doing that--"
"Yes you are." She snatched up her gown and pulled it on, then looked around for her coat and galoshes. "You don't know me at all and yet you wish to marry me? That's like hiring a new maid!"
Ignoring his state of undress, he folded his arms across his bare chest. "I know everything I need to know. You're a living doll, smart as a whip, like the same books..." His gaze moved to the haypile. "And you drive me crazy.”
“Well, of course you should marry me then,” she huffed sarcastically.
Avoiding his imploring gaze, she buttoned her raincoat. “I need to get back to the house. We definitely aren’t married yet.”
She hooked her feet onto the ladder and climbed down from the hayloft with as much dignity as she could muster.
A few steps from the barn door, he caught up with her. He’d only had time to tug on his trousers. She swayed in his direction; his naked chest silently begged for her to caress it again.
“Look, baby--”
It was enough to bring her to her senses. “Don’t call me baby!” she growled. Perversely she realized that not once had she protested against the endearment when he was whispering it along her skin earlier.
“I’ve had men treating me like an old maid for years, and now you are treating me like a child. I’m a mature woman with a mind of her own, and I’ll decide when, if, I get married. And it won’t be just because of a roll in the hay.”
Bill released her. Another illogical wave of petulance washed over her. Fine, she'd leave. She stomped out of the barn without a backward look.
Running his fingers through his hair, Bill shook his head. He fished his cigarettes out of his pocket. This woman most definitely was driving him crazy.
~*~
In her bedroom, Laura stripped off her clothes. Again she’d managed to get soaking wet on the short trip from the barn to the house. At this rate, she’d catch a chill to add to her woes.
She absentmindedly found a towel; her mind returning completely to Bill Adams.
She knew what sort of woman most people would think she was--all too willing to become a man’s mistress, yet balking at taking his hand in marriage--but she’d seen enough miserable marriages to deter her from that sort of life. The Adairs, the Cavils, her parents...There had been other opportunities after Richard. Even a few proposals. But somehow, she'd developed this fantasy of the marriage she wanted. One with mutual respect and interests, dignity for both partners, and of all things, some fun. She hadn't had much fun in her life. Bill did seem as though marriage with him would be fun...
Impatient, she rubbed the roughened material against her already-sensitized skin, wanting to erase all evidence of her and Bill’s lovemaking as well as the rain.
He’d already decided her job was unimportant! Pack up and move to San Francisco, indeed!
She shivered, nothing to do with the rain’s coolness.
She ran the edge of the towel between her legs. So much for erasing the evidence, instead she was evoking memories... Bill’s fingers, and later his tongue, finding that sweet spot she had never known existed until tonight. She could find it herself, he’d said...
See, he as much as admitted she didn’t need a husband!
She would ignore the fact she’d been praying for someone to take her away from Adair only that morning...
She was startled by a sharp bark from Jake on the porch. She moved to the window and peered out, her gaze immediately drawn to the barn. It was still raining, but she saw the telltale glow of a cigarette just beneath the eaves of the barn. So much for not smoking near the hay. He had just said that to get her flat on her back.
Not that she’d been ever got into that position...
“Do you like to be on top?” he’d asked, the huskiness of his tone making her languid body taut again after the onslaught of his hands and mouth. “It might help keep me going a bit longer. I’m not gonna last...”
“I... I don’t know,” she finally admitted in a whisper.
“You’ll like it,” he’d assured her. “You’ll be in control.”
And she had been. After his initial guidance, she’d decided when they’d go faster and harder, what particular angle their bodies would be joined. Her eyes watered. Bill had loved her excitement and enthusiasm. So different to Richard...
She moved away from the window again and slid under her bed covers, flicking off her lamp angrily. That was no reason to marry the man!
~*~
Bill stared up at Laura’s darkened window. The only woman he’d wanted to marry since Carolanne, and she had to be the most stubborn, independent... Lovely. She was lovely.
As he'd increased his family's respectable income from its mines, property and oil wells into great wealth, he’d had all manner of women chasing him. Influential businessmen even threw their daughters in his direction. He’d attended a party just a few weeks ago where shipping magnate Ernesto Capra’s daughter Cynthia had been only too eager to show him her charms if it meant she’d then become the next Mrs Bill Adams.
He wanted a wife he could talk to, argue with, laugh with...
He dragged on his cigarette and contemplated just bursting into the house to talk some sense into Laura. He couldn’t though. Anders or Tyrol could turn up early in the morning and--
Over the noise of the rain, he suddenly heard Jake barking and soon after saw the dog flash past him into the barn.
Frowning, Bill followed the dog’s trail to the dark interior, where he and Tyrol had been working on the Phoenix. Jake had his quarry cornered near the left wing of the plane. Finding the lantern, Bill lit it, and held it high.
“Can I help you with something there, Reverend Cavil?” Bill asked.
“Oh, Mr Adams! You gave me such a fright.” The minister, who'd been cowering under the wing, straightened upright while staying away from the growling dog. Bill wished he was wearing his glasses. Had Cavil just pocketed a gun while making a show of placing his hand over his heart?
Bill clicked his fingers for Jake to heel. “Well, I must say I wasn’t expecting you to be out on such a rainy night either,” he said smoothly to the unexpected visitor.
“No, no. My wife and I visited our good neighbors, the Tyrols, this evening. When we found Mr Anders there, we agreed it was my duty to come and check that Miss Roslin was not being taken advantage of.”
Bill started. Surely if the man had been snooping the barn below where he and Laura had been making love he would have heard something--Then he noticed the back door standing ajar. He must have just slipped in, thankfully.
“Miss Roslin’s in her home. I'm sure snug in her bed on such a night," he said gratefully. He didn’t want Laura anywhere near this guy.
“Yes. I’m afraid I got distracted on my way to the house. You see, I have a great interest in aviation too, and war planes in particular. I just couldn’t stop myself from coming and seeing the Phoenix for myself, after hearing so much about it from Giles. I knew you wouldn’t mind, Mr Adams.” The older man's smirk was oily.
"Actually, I do mind," rasped Bill, taking a step closer. "This is a delicate machine, already damaged. I don't appreciate strangers poking at it."
"I didn't touch it!" protested Cavil, backing up with raised hands.
"In that case, you might as well move along. Miss Roslin's safe, and you can't see much of the plane in the dark." Bill kept advancing, driving Cavil to the barn door.
"Well, really!" The minister fussed, but he left the barn and hurried to his waiting automobile.
Bill noticed the blonde head in the passenger seat, but the woman didn't speak or wave at him.
After he was sure the car was gone, Bill headed to the little shed where Sam Anders slept. Rapping on the door, he woke the young man. He wasn't sure that the repairs would hold up to flight, but he had to get his plane out of Adair, and now.
Laura had finally started to drift off to sleep, the mental arguments between her and herself having come to a bitter stand-off, when she heard the sound of a large engine starting outside.
Struggling from her bed, she rushed to the window. The rain had stopped, and now the full moon lit the farm almost as bright as day. She spotted where the sound came from. Bill's plane was on the county road, its propellers whirling. Sam stood by his farm truck, holding his hat against the strong wind. The plane started to move, rolling down the road.
As it picked up speed, Laura flung open the window. Foolishly, she cried out, "Bill!" but it was too late. The plane lifted off and rose into the night sky.
~end 2/3