Amy Trueblood - Nothing But Sky

Amy Trueblood

Mendota Heights, Minnesota

Nothing But Sky 2018 by Amy Trueblood. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Flux, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Edition
First Printing, 2018

Book design by Jake Nordby
Cover design by Jake Nordby
Cover images by Nadya Korobkova/Shutterstock; Alhovik/Shutterstock; Gorbash Varvara/Shutterstock

Flux, an imprint of North Star Editions, Inc.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover models used for illustrative purposes only and may not endorse or represent the books subject.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data (Pending)
978-1-63583-016-3

Flux
North Star Editions, Inc.
2297 Waters Drive
Mendota Heights, MN 55120
www.fluxnow.com

Printed in the United States of America

For David, Olivia, and Ryan

My heart. My soul. My everything.

And for little girls everywhere ... no matter what people say, never be afraid to chase your dreams.

You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.Amelia Earhart

1
The Rough Hands of Gravity

Lincoln, Nebraska
July 9, 1922
65 days until World Aviation Expo

Blue sky, perfect day to fly.

Uncle Warrens favorite phrase ran through my head as I trudged behind Daniel across the field. His thick wall of a body parted the growing crowd like a sharp wind bent back trees. With a brown fedora clutched between his calloused fingers, he collected our fee. His voice boomed across the acres of wide-open farmland: Twenty-five cents to watch the best flying circus in all the Midwest!

He shouldered through the bustling crowd of dapper-dressed men and ladies decked out in their church finery. Silver and copper coins plinked across the wide brim of the hat before sliding down inside the crown. I picked up my pace, trying to keep up with his long strides. The pointed stares and gasps of surprise when people recognized me were all part of the routine now.

When Daniel finally came to a stop at the edge of the old farm road, I peered around his tree-trunk arms and into the hat. Five, maybe six dollars in change. As Sundays went, it wasnt a bad take for a show where I could fall to my death at any moment.

Once the coins were firmly settled in Daniels pockets, the slight clink of change filling the air as we walked, he nodded to the line of spectators gathered near a long row of fence ten feet away. Their bodies were pressed together in a tight huddle. Their heads tilted towards a cloudless afternoon sky. I should have been down the road waiting at my mark, but I loved the chaos of the growing crowd and their lively shouts.

Looks like folks are itchin for a show, Grace. You sure about this trick? Road looks mighty rough. I count at least five potholes from here.

He shaded his dark brown eyes from the sun. Worry lines pinched around his mouth as he surveyed the long stretch of dirt that ran alongside Farmer Grants property. Nothing but dust, cows, and green Nebraska farmland as far as the eye could see. The air tinged with the familiar scent of manure. The countryside awash in yellow as late-blooming black-eyed susans sprang up in haphazard patches along a mile of battered wood fence.

Its fine, I swatted away his worries like the flies buzzing near my head. This is the only stretch of property where the roadster can pick up enough speed. I stood on my toes to pat his wide shoulder in reassurance. Its time to dazzle the hometown crowd before we take it to other cities.

Daniels eyes narrowed into that look that warned he was worried, but smart enough not to say any more. You listen to Nathan and dont fool around. You know how he can be about these new tricks.

I cant listen to his griping about angles and wind speed for another minute. Weve been practicing this for six weeks. Its time to put it to work.

A few young boys in corduroy knickers and newsboy caps raced past us. Once they reached the fence, they elbowed their way to the front.

Dont go gettin too big for your britches. None of these folks expect anything but you shuffling across the wings of that plane. Youd do well to remember that. He turned on his heel, and headed back in the direction of the hangar.

Daniel could choose to be a black cloud on an otherwise sunny day, but I wanted to revel in being back home in Lincoln. Traveling all over Oklahoma and Texas these last weeks had turned tiresome. While our earnings from shows in Stillwater and Amarillo kept our heads above water, it was nice to sleep in my soft bed rather than roll around on hard-packed ground with nothing but a raggedy, old patchwork quilt for comfort.

With Daniel gone, I skirted around the crowd now scattering onto the road. Children sat atop their fathers shoulders, the late afternoon sun melting the ice cream in their hands. Red-cheeked ladies adjusted wide-brimmed hats and fanned themselves, praying for any kind of breeze.

Stepping over discarded handbills that touted, The Soaring Eagles: Nebraskas Greatest Flying Circus, I found an open path and raced down the dirt, dodging cow patties and those ankle-deep potholes Daniel had spied. When I reached my mark at the end of the fence, I closed my eyes and waited for a familiar buzz to fill the air. A moment later a low rumble shook the ground. I opened my eyes and a scarlet-red biplane soared overhead, its propeller slicing through the wind. It did a quick barrel roll, the body spinning in a circular motion, before it made a wide turn. Seconds later a roadster broke away from the masses and stopped only inches from where I stood.

Well, what are you waiting for, Grace? Were burning daylight here. Nathan, our teams second in command, frantically waved me forward.

I dashed toward the car, pulling my goggles over my eyes. With the Model Ts top down, the wind would snarl my dark curls in seconds.

Once I settled in the seat, Nathan put the car in gear and sped forward. Thisll be tricky with the wind picking up. He fought to control the car as we raced down the bumpy road. If you cant reach the ladder on the first pass, dont risk it. I can always bring you around again. When it gets close, you grab that bottom rung with both hands. No funny business, you hear. And if you see any of Rowlands planes, stay put. This is not the time for a mid-air dogfight.

Leave it to him to ruin the moment with one little name.

He glanced over his shoulder, his warning look telling me I better listen. We both knew what was at stake, but unless I promised to be smart, Nathan wouldnt steer the car toward our mark.

Got it. I pointed to a red scarf tied to the fence a hundred feet away. Now focus on why were here. We got money to earn.

The swelling crowd surged toward us to get a closer look. We sped down the road and the weathered wooden fence flew by in a blur. Dairy cows skittered back across the field, spooked by the grinding engine of the old roadster.