#
“Dad!” Forgetting her own aches and bruises, Connie rushed to his bedside.
Connie's dad gave her a pale shadow of his usual wide grin. “Hello, pumpkin. We've both had better days, eh?”
She would have squeezed his hand, but both his arms were encased in plaster casts and suspended in traction. “Are you okay? How did you get away from those goons?”
“Ah, once they broke my arms, they lost interest.” Despite his light-hearted tone, Connie could tell that he was deeply upset. “Connie, I was trying to get back in to you, I swear. But they kicked me in the head as they ran away, and I couldn't get up, and—”
“Shh. I know, Dad. It's okay.” She sat down on the chair next to his bed. “You'd never have left me.”
“It's all my fault.” Her dad blinked rapidly, his eyes suspiciously damp. Connie pretended not to notice. “The nurses said you were all right, though?”
“I'm fine.” It was, surprisingly, true. For someone who’d been unconscious in a burning building, Connie felt pretty good. “I was lucky. I guess the firefighters managed to get me out before I breathed in too much smoke.”
Chase, who was hanging back in the doorway, made a small, choked sound, like a hastily stifled laugh.
Her dad's gaze moved to him. For a moment, he just stared blankly… and then his jaw dropped. “Good God. That's never young Tiernach, is it?”
“It's good to see you again, Mr. West,” Chase said, coming forward. His black eyes danced. “Just to let you know, I still haven't crashed. Well, at least not a plane.”
“You are still the most god-awful student I've ever had the misfortune of teaching to fly,” her dad informed him. His brow creased. “What in the name of all that's holy are you doing wearing a firefighter's uniform?”
“Why do people keep asking me that?” Chase said to the ceiling.
“Apparently, he's playing at being a firefighter,” Connie said to her dad. “Don't ask me why.”
“I am not playing,” Chase said indignantly. “I happen to be a very respected and valuable member of my crew. Just ask…” He trailed off, apparently searching for a name. “Hmm. Actually, perhaps it would be best if you didn't.”
“Chase Tiernach, a productive member of society. Now I really have seen it all.” Connie's dad shook his head. “Well, if you did rescue my daughter, I'm eternally in your debt, sir.”
“Excellent!” Chase said brightly. “In that case, may I ask for your blessing?”
Connie's dad looked across at her in a wordless request for interpretation.
“Ignore him,” Connie said firmly. “He's leaving now, anyway.”
“Oh, I don't have to be anywhere else,” Chase assured her. “I already told Commander Ash that I'm taking an indefinite leave of absence. He thought it was an excellent idea.” He paused, a slightly worried expression briefly flashing across his face. “I think I still have a job. Though I might have to persuade him on that point, later.”
Connie glared at Chase. “My dad needs peace and quiet to recover. He doesn't need you. I don't need you. Go away, Chase.”
Her dad shifted uneasily, despite his broken arms. “Ah. Well. I hate to say it, but there might actually be something he could help us with.”
Connie threw up her hands. “Dad! Don't encourage him!”
“I can be excessively helpful,” Chase assured him earnestly. “What do you need?”
Her dad cleared his throat. “You know the big air race next week, over at Shoreham Airfield?”
“The Rydon Cup? Of course!” Chase's eyes brightened. “I've been looking forward to it ever since they announced it was going to be flown here this year.”
“We were going to enter our plane. Me flying, Connie navigating—we were sure to win. But now…” Her dad made a helpless little motion with his head, indicating his broken arms. “I, ah, was kind of counting on winning that race.”
“We're not going to ask the Tiernachs for money, dad,” Connie said sharply. “Don't worry about the race. We'll just have to pull out. Things will be a little tight, but I'll manage.”
Already she was making mental lists of air shows where she could display her plane, places she could advertise for passengers, evening jobs she could take… It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to hustle to cover her dad's debts. No doubt it wouldn't be the last.
It's not a disaster. I can get us through this. I always have.