12

HOPE

MAY 12, 1912

NEW YORK CITY

The applause was deafening as I stood in front of an audience at the Globe Theatre in New York. The last time I was on this stage, I had been playing a minor role in the musical The Slim Princess. This time, I was the main attraction. After hearing about my success over the English Channel, the manager of the Globe asked me to return and speak about my flight.

The theater had sold out.

The stage lights were bright and warm, but I wouldn't trade this spot for anything in the world. I missed the stage—though I would never give up flying now. It was a part of me. The most exciting thing I'd ever done.

With one final wave, I left the stage as the manager gave me a handshake and then bid the audience farewell.

Grace was waiting for me with a wide smile in the dim backstage. "The audience loved you."

I returned her smile. "And I loved them, too."

A stagehand brought my evening coat, and the manager handed me a substantial check that would be sent to Mama and Daddy. Ever since returning to New York, I had been making appearances all over the city. With my earnings and the money Grace had received for her articles, combined with the last of our parents' savings, we'd come up with just enough for the first payment on the orphanage.

But this was my last scheduled talk. I had several exhibitions planned for the summer, and I hoped to make money from contest winnings, but there was no guarantee. And I had other expenses to consider—like the aeroplane I had ordered from Blériot that would be shipped to me at the end of June.

The second half of the payment for the orphanage was looming.

"What do you think about going to Delmonico's?" I asked Grace as we headed for the stage door. "I'm starving."

She yawned, putting her hand over her mouth. "It's almost ten o'clock, and we shouldn't waste what precious money we have on eating out."

"I don't want to go to bed yet—and I have a little extra set aside." Delmonico's was something I never wanted to give up, no matter how much it cost.

But really, I just didn't want to go back to Salem. There was nothing there, except chaos and heartbreak. Dozens of people now stood accused—including Reverend George Burroughs. He had been a pastor in Salem Village several years before and was being accused by several of the afflicted girls of being the ringleader of the witches. There were claims, from several afflicted people, that he led massive gatherings of hundreds of witches in Reverend Parris's field.

He also owed a large debt of money to the Putnams.

The worst news had come yesterday, though.

Mary Warren was brought back to be examined after a month in the Salem gaol, and this time she had new people to accuse. Including Ann Pudeator.

Mary didn't even know Ann—and we couldn't help but wonder why she had been accused. Had Father discovered that Ann visited us? Had Leah said something after all? Or had Ann been accused because she was a widow and a healer?

"I don't want to go to bed, either," Grace said to me, stepping through the stage door out onto the street. "But we can't avoid Salem forever."

I followed her out the door and then put my hand on her arm to still her comment. "It's Luc."

Grace glanced in the direction I was looking.

Luc was waiting just outside the stage door. Since returning to New York, he had gone back to teaching aviation and working with Glenn Curtiss. We had not seen him in over a week and rarely spoke about him. I didn't want to repeat the conversation we'd had while Grace gardened, especially because I couldn't deny her comments. Luc did not behave like a man in love with me—yet he was here now. That had to mean something.

"Bonjour," he said, a smile on his handsome face as he looked from me to Grace.

"Bonjour." I couldn't hide the pleasure from my voice. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I have exciting news."

The street glowed from the Broadway lights. Well-dressed people walked past, some glancing in our direction, a few whispering as if they recognized us, but no one stopped.

What news would bring Luc all the way to the Globe Theatre? It must be very good.

"What is it?"

A group of people stopped, and a lady in a beautiful fur coat looked between me and Grace. "Is one of you Hope Cooper? The aviator?"

I nodded and smiled, though I didn't want to be interrupted now. Being famous had taken a toll over the past month, and I finally understood how Luc felt when he was bombarded by fans.

The lady's eyes opened wide, and she grasped my hand, tugging me toward her. "How wonderful! No one will believe I've met you."

I gently pulled my hand back, and Luc stepped close to me, wrapping his arm through mine before offering his other arm to Grace.

"Have a good evening," he said to the group as he began to escort Grace and I down the street. "Can we go somewhere to talk?" he asked us once we'd left the group behind.

"We were planning to go to Delmonico's," I said, trying to keep up with him. "Would you like to join us?"

"I would enjoy that."

"I won't be going," Grace told him.

Luc turned to her, disappointment in his voice. "I had hoped to speak to you, as well."

I waited, torn because I wanted Grace to come yet I longed to be alone with Luc.

She shook her head. "I'll let Hope tell me later."

"Is there nothing I can do to convince you?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not."

Reluctantly, he hailed a taxicab for her, though she protested and said she could walk. He won the debate, and after she got inside, his gaze followed the cab.

I slipped my arm through his again. "Can you tell me the good news now? Or must I wait for Delmonico's?"

He put his free hand over mine, his excitement returning as his focus shifted back to me. "You must wait."

It didn't take us long to reach Delmonico's. The opulent restaurant was the place to see and be seen by the upper crust. Rich wallpaper adorned the walls, thick trim graced the doors and windows, and crisp white tablecloths draped to the floor.

The ma?tre d' showed us to a private table in the corner. People looked our way, commenting amongst themselves. Whether they knew me or Luc or us both—it didn't matter. Delmonico's was filled with rich and famous people, and no one bothered each other. Luc could relax, and we would have privacy for our talk.

After the waiter took our order, I leaned forward, smiling. "What is this good news?"

He studied me. "You have an offer from a sponsor."

Thatwas the good news? I leaned back, deflated. There had been several sponsorship offers. Different companies asked me to endorse their products, wear their logos, or agree to be on advertisements. I had said yes to some of them, though they didn't pay as well as speaking or flying engagements.

"It's more than a sponsorship," Luc said, his eyes animated. "William Randolph Hearst has offered a fifty-thousand-dollar prize to the first person who can fly from New York to Los Angeles in thirty days or less. Armour and Company approached me, since they heard that I was your business manager for the Channel flight, and asked if you would be interested in attempting the cross-country trip. They are offering to sponsor you if you agree to paint the logo of their new grape soda, Vin Fiz, on the aeroplane. The flight will require a large support team, so they have agreed to charter a three-car train to follow you on your journey. They would like the press to go along—so I thought perhaps Grace would like to go. And your parents, too, if you want."

My head was spinning, so I put my hand on his arm to stop him. All I could think about was the first thing he had said. "A fifty-thousand-dollar prize?"

Luc nodded. "And Armour and Company's president has said that you will get every penny, if you make the flight in thirty days."

I wasn't even sure I knew who Armour and Company was—but there was another pressing question on my mind. "And if I don't make it in thirty days?"

"They'll still sponsor your flight, since it will bring awareness to Vin Fiz. You might not make any money, but at least you won't lose any."

I put my hands to my head, thinking through the possibilities. Excitement and nervous energy buzzed through me. "And my parents?"

"They could come with you on the train. Grace could write articles about the flight."

I nodded slowly, but then I looked up and met his gaze. "And you? Will you come?"

He studied me. "Would you like me to come?"

My heart soared, and I nodded. "Yes—very much." I went on quickly. "I know you would have to give up your own flying to come with me, so you could serve as my business manager again. And I will share fifteen percent of my earnings—if that's enough."

"Oui." He smiled. "I would do it for free."

I shook my head, wanting to take his hand, but uncertain. He was kind and thoughtful, but he never reached out to me. I couldn't tell if he was helping me because he was furthering aviation—or if his feelings went deeper.

A little voice whispered in my heart that if he did love me, I would know by now—but it sounded an awful lot like Grace's voice, so I pushed it away.

"You could attempt the flight and try for the money yourself," I said. "Why are you letting me do it?"

"You are the one they asked." The waiter brought our meals, and when he left, Luc said to me, "Will you agree?"

I wanted to say yes without hesitation—but I needed to speak to Grace and see if she would come with me. I didn't want to make the trip to California without her.

"I will let you know after I speak to Grace."

At the sound of my sister's name, he looked down at his plate. "Ah, oui." He sighed. "Grace."

"You said—" I paused, confused. Hadn't he suggested that she should come along? "Do you still not like her?"

He looked up quickly, frowning.

I was surprised to realize that part of me wanted him to agree and tell me he did not like her. But I remembered the way he had regarded her on the train to Paris and how he had watched her leave in the taxicab tonight. I wanted to be mistaken about those looks. After all, he hadn't told Grace he cared for her—hadn't pursued her or sought out her company since we'd returned to New York.

"Why do you think I dislike her?" he asked.

"You've been at odds with her from the beginning."

Luc shook his head as he stared down at his plate. "Just because we've been at odds does not mean I dislike her."

"Then why do you seem upset that I want to talk to her before committing to this trip? Isn't that what you suggested from the beginning? That she come along to listen to the offer?"

"Oui." He nodded as he smiled—though there was something in his gaze that I couldn't identify. "Do not mind me. Ask Grace and then let me know what you decide."

I worried my bottom lip as he began to eat his filet mignon.

Did I really want Grace on the trip, after all?

It wasn't quite midnight as I walked through the door of the stylish Hotel Victoria in the heart of the theater district with both excitement and trepidation. The hotel boasted two entrances, one on Fifth Avenue and one on Twenty-Seventh Street. It had recently been redecorated and advertised rooms with and without private baths. With our combined incomes, we'd been able to afford a room—but there was little left this week for the rent. Something foremost on my mind.

I took the elevator up to the fifth floor and walked down the hall to our apartment, wanting to talk to Grace about the flight—and not wanting to tell her at the same time.

I opened the door into our apartment and took off my coat and hat. The main room was both a sitting room and a dining room with a little kitchenette. Three doors fanned out from the main room. Two bedrooms and a bathroom.

Grace appeared, wearing a nightgown and hugging her robe around her middle. "Well? What's the good news?"

She looked so excited and happy for me—and I knew that even if Luc cared for her, I had nothing to worry about. She would never return his affection. Not only because she hadn't liked him from the start, but because she knew I loved him.

There was no reason not to invite her.

"I was offered a sponsorship, with the possibility of making fifty thousand dollars."

Grace's mouth fell open as she stared at me. "Fifty thousand dollars?"

It was an extraordinary amount of money—enough to retire on and live comfortably for the rest of my life even after giving a portion of it to Mama and Daddy for the orphanage.

"What do you have to do for fifty thousand?" she asked.

"That's the hard part—but I can do it." I quickly laid out the stipulations for the prize money.

Grace didn't speak for a moment, her frown deepening. "A cross-country flight would be dangerous, Hope."

"No more dangerous than any other flying."

She pursed her lips, and I knew that look. She was formulating her argument.

"And I want you and Mama and Daddy to come, too," I said. "You can come as a Globe correspondent. You'll travel in style on the train, and we can spend time in California. You can write articles about my flight and about the states we travel through. The opportunities are endless."

She shook her head. "I don't know..."

"Please." I took her hands. I would go without her, but I didn't want to.

"When?"

"I'm not sure. It will take some time to work out the details."

"What if someone else tries it first and beats you to the fifty thousand?"

I hadn't considered that, but there was nothing I could do about it. "Then we'll look for another opportunity—but I won't worry about that now. I'll know more after Luc speaks to the sponsors."

Grace frowned. "Luc is coming?"

I nodded, secretly happy to hear the displeasure in her voice. "He's going to be my business manager again. Will you come?"

"I don't think it's a good idea—"

"Just think how much this would help Mama and Daddy. They would never have to worry about the orphanage again."

Guilt still plagued her over the situation, so when she sighed, I knew I had won.

"Thank you," I said, hugging her, relieved she would say yes—despite my concerns about Luc's feelings. "I didn't want to do it without you."

"I'm not being entirely selfless. I think the Globe would be interested in sending me along for the journey. It will help my career as much as it will help yours."

"See? We both win."

"And," she added, "I love the idea of inviting Mama and Daddy. They'll enjoy being there with us."

"I'll still have time before the cross-country flight to participate in air shows and compete for prize money."

"We need to get to bed," Grace said as she stood.

"Why have you been so eager to return to Salem lately?"

"Each day I hope Isaac will arrive with news of our mother's family."

Was that the only reason she was eager to see Isaac again? Though she couldn't be with him after we left 1692, what would it hurt if she had his love until then?

I had treated Isaac poorly, hoping he would leave us alone—but perhaps I could be more thoughtful around him and encourage him to shift his attention to Grace.

It was the least I could do for my sister.