K. Weiland - Storming

Griff frowned. “You didn’t tell the sheriff that.”

“I don’t tell the sheriff a lot of things.” He had to rein back anger on that one. “But you will keep an eye out for Zlo? If he comes back?”

“That’s my job, isn’t it?”

And Griff always did his job, was that it? While Hitch went gallivanting irresponsibly around the country?

Seemed like they’d covered that ground last night. He was losing the argument again—and they weren’t even arguing.

He took a breath and tried once more. He nodded down the street. “I can see why you like deputying. You got a way with folks.”

“I like people. I’ve always liked people.”

“I know it. I don’t suppose you remember how when you were nine or so we heard that the schoolteacher old Mrs. Bates, from on the other side of the river, was down with the gout again? You decided to make her chicken soup, even though you didn’t know how.”

Took Griff a second. Then he nodded. “Boiled the whole chicken in a couple gallons of water. Didn’t even know enough to drain the blood or take the innards out first. Smelled rank.”

“I should know. I helped you lug it over there. Cured her gout though, I heard.”

The crease in Griff’s forehead eased a bit. The corner of a grin touched his mouth. “I reckon she was too scared to admit she ever suffered it again.”

Hitch laughed, and for just a second Griff laughed with him.

The sound of it warmed Hitch right to the pit of his stomach. He quieted and smiled at Griff. “It is good to be home, little brother.”

As quick as that, Griff’s face closed up. He looked away, and a muscle in his cheek churned. Then he looked back, his eyes thoughtful. “It ain’t that simple, Hitch. I told you that last night.”

“And I reckon I heard you.”

“I’m not the only one who’s upset. Nan’s fit to be tied.” Griff chewed his lower lip. He seemed… conflicted almost. “There’s things you need to know about. About Celia’s dying.”

“Then tell me.”

Griff shook his head. “I don’t know if I can. Not yet.” He stepped backwards, up onto the paved sidewalk. “You decide to stick around long enough, and maybe you’ll prove you deserve to hear it.”

Hands still in his pockets, Hitch watched him go. Sticking around wasn’t exactly in the cards, especially with Campbell huffing down his neck once more. Thing was, Griff probably had no notion of any of that.

Didn’t seem like requesting help with Campbell was exactly the right thing to be asking Griff right now. Even if it was, getting Griff mixed up on the bad side of Campbell wasn’t something Hitch wanted to leave behind him when he had to go.

And he did have to go.

Would Griff think a week long enough for reconciliation? Because if he didn’t, this whole thing might end worse than it’d begun.

WHEN HITCH PUT the plane on the ground back at the airfield, the right wheel busted clean off. The Jenny skidded around in a wobbling ground loop and nearly pitched herself onto her propeller. He fought her back to a standstill, then jumped out to stare at the damage.

He might have started yelling about how he couldn’t believe this had happened again . Except, at this point, he totally could.

Earl ran over. “You keep her safe during that storm, then come home and botch your landing?”

Hitch growled. “It happens, doesn’t it?” He knelt beside the broken gear. This was the side that had plowed into Schturming when he hit whatever was up there. Three landings later, the axle was near sheared in half. At least it had gotten him back to Earl.

For all the good it would do now. It was fixable, but that wasn’t going to be the main issue this time.

“How much is it going to cost?” he asked.

Earl squatted beside the wheel and shook his head. “More than you got.”

Wouldn’t have to be much to be more than what he had at this point. Earl had spent all but change on the last round of repairs.

Earl pushed his cap back and rubbed his hand across his forehead. “I tell you what, Hitch, I’m beginning to see why you left home. This ain’t a lucky place for you, is it?”

Hitch shrugged and leaned back against the fuselage. His head throbbed. The only good parts of this day were the worse things that could’ve happened and hadn’t.

Rick roared up in his motorcar and came jogging over. He took one look at the broken axle and its missing wheel. “You can’t be serious!” He was walking straight enough, but his breath had a definite aroma of gin.

Hitch didn’t bother to answer. Jennies were always busting themselves to pieces. Most of the ones still in the air were held together with parachute cords, chewing gum, and lots of earnest prayers. It was just bum luck his Jenny had decided to turn into a fainting damsel this week of all weeks.

Rick propped his hands on his hips. “Well. Where’s the money coming from this time?”

“We could hawk your car maybe,” Earl said.

“I’m not the one who keeps demolishing my airplane.” Rick pursed his lips at Hitch. “I can hardly perform our routine by myself. If you don’t get her back into the air, I suppose that means I won’t be getting paid again, doesn’t it? Or eating, for that matter?”

“You think I don’t know that? What do you want me to do?” Hitch’s mind raced. No money meant no repairs, period. No repairs meant no contest. That’d be the end of the line. The end of quite a few lines, actually. He huffed. “I can’t conjure your money out of thin air.”

Rick sniffed. “And don’t I know it well. If you could, we’d not only all have been paid, you’d also have had the wherewithal to hire a decent-sized crew. If we had a wing walker, we’d have twice as good a chance of winning this weekend’s competition.”

“Wing walker.” Hitch looked around. “Where’s Jael?”

Earl shook his head. “Haven’t seen her.”

His mind jumped to Zlo right off. But, no, Zlo was skyside right now. He couldn’t have gotten to Jael even if he wanted to.

“She was in town with me not long ago,” Hitch said. “I lost her, so I thought maybe she’d bummed a ride back here.”

“Maybe she went home.”

“That I doubt.” He chewed his lip. “I hope not. I have this feeling she would make a heck of an aerialist.”

Rick scoffed. “Yesterday was the first she’d even been in a plane.”

“Heights don’t faze her. She’s got good balance.”

A grin played at the corner of Earl’s mouth. “And she’d be pretty to look at up there, I reckon.”

Hitch glared. “That ain’t it.”

“’Course not. But don’t forget you’re not going to get her up there at all if you can’t get this plane off the ground.”

Rick stared at Hitch. “You can’t possibly be thinking of bringing her on board.”

“Maybe. If she wants the job.”

“Well, I say no, Hitch. She’s no barnstormer. She’s a wild vagabond!”

“There’s a difference? Anyway, you said you wanted a wing walker.”

Rick flared his nostrils. “You intend to pay her the same as the rest of us if we win?”

“Why not?”

“Then I deserve a raise. I’m a veteran member of this troupe. A pilot and a parachutist. That’s worth more than a fledgling wing walker any day, as both of us well know. ”

Hitch’s head pounded harder. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means for what I’m paying you already I get an okay pilot, a halfway decent parachutist, and a whole lot of complaining.” The words were out before he could stop them.

Earl, still crouched near the wheel, shook his head.

Rick’s face stilled. “Your trouble is that you have consistently and deliberately underestimated and devalued me! You seem to believe you own Lilla, and don’t think I’m not aware of your attempts to lure her away from me. And you insulted me to my face, I’ll remind you.”