The hot, dry spring gave way to summer after a violent storm and a mini tornado that left the surrogate family shaken but safe. The time passed quickly and uneventfully as Charlie instructed her on the engine of the Jenny. She learned he was speaking literally when he said she was going to know the aircraft from the ground up. He was a patient teacher, never becoming frustrated by her endless questions. By the beginning of July 1917 she was able to take the engine apart, clean it, and put it back together flawlessly. She was fluent in the hand signals needed to flag incoming planes onto the runway and could refuel them in record time. Infrequent pilots who landed at their airstrip were quite amused to see her out on the runway, her flowing hair as red as the flags in her hands. Rose was aware she was causing a stir among the male dominated aviation community when they learned Charlie was teach ing her to fly, but she did not care. Some had proclaimed outrage, but Rose would just shrug her shoulders and smile sweetly, indifferent. A majority of pilots in the world thought Harriet Quimby's 1911 flight across the English Channel nothing more than fluke. Rose would shake her head, already realizing that only more and more women would take to the air.

But, she herself had yet to fly.

Rose never harassed Charlie to take her into the air with him, she knew he would be true to his word and allow her to fly when he felt she was ready. By the end of July, her patience was beginning to wane. So when they began her lessons in the plane while it was on the ground, she wanted to burst with happiness. She had to pretend to use the stick and the foot controls as Charlie carefully quizzed her on the proper procedures of flight. Rose spent almost every waking moment out in the hanger, continually wiping the plane down, or tuning the engine. She started to laugh in mid-swipe one hot sunny August day as Charlie remarked she was going to rub all the paint off of it if she kept it up. She knew that although he liked to make gruff remarks he was pleased that she making such an effort to keep the plane in good condition.

Rose would pass the days Charlie was flying perched on a rock outside of the hangar, her sketchbook resting on her denim covered knees, drawing the bi-plane in mid-flight. Occasionally, she would find her mind drifting and she would look down to see her hand subconsciously drawing pictures of Jack from memory. But she could never seem to draw his lines correctly, or catch the essence of his soul that caused his eyes to sparkle mischievously. These pictures she would fold with a heavy heart and place in her satchel, or tear into little pieces to let the wind carry away.

The Adlers never mentioned the eventuality of Rose's departure. The three of them settled into a comfortable routine around the airfield and Sarah was beginning to dread the day when Rose packed her bags to continue on her journey. She had grown accustomed to seeing her in the morning, leaning against the counter sipping her coffee; her long legs covered by a pair of old dungaree overalls that once belonged to Robert. She enjoyed their quiet conversations at night while they sat in the parlor sipping cold tea or lemonade. It dismayed her that she had known Rose for almost three months but yet to learn concrete information of her past. Rose continued to pay them for her board, but the money always found its way back into her room. To compensate for her staying, she took on extra chores to help around the house and the airfield.

Her car, with four working tires, sat covered alongside the Jenny in the hangar. Henry Toggle delivered a new tire as he promised, six weeks to the day after she arrived in Prairie Grove. She came out of the hangar, after hearing his jalopy pull up, dirty with grease from head to toe and wiping her hands on a rag. She had hoped it would deter Henry from leering at her, but surprisingly it had an adverse effect. He took her money and pocketed it, then promptly asked her out to dinner. Rose had a hard time keeping a straight face as she explained to him that she was a recent widow and not ready to reenter to social scene. He thanked her kindly with one last long look at her breasts and then left without another word. She turned to see Charlie smiling as he watched them from the doorway.

"By the time he reaches town and downs a few, he'll have himself convinced that it was you that asked him for dinner and Henry that turned you down flat. I suppose it will be Henry's great achievement tonight at the bar."

Rose looked at him in horror as she followed him back to the open engine of the Jenny. "I would hope they have enough sense not to believe him."

Charlie looked down at her, openly laughing now. "Oh, they won t believe a word of it. But they have to allow Henry to save face in order to get the free rounds he pays for every Friday night."In truth, Charlie was touched by the gentle way that Rose had let the older, overweight man down. It could have been just as easy for her to laugh in his face. "Still want to punch him in that red, bulbous nose?" he asked genially.

Rose's sense of humor took over as she laughed in answer. "If he stared at me for five more minutes " She balled her fist and shook it at the air.

"Hey, underneath that crud on your face, maybe you re not such a bad person after all, Charlie quipped as Rose swiped at him with her dirty rag. He threw back his head and laughed with her as they went back to work on the engine.

Letters were delivered regularly from the front in Europe, with both sons downplaying their roles in the war to their mother. These letters were humorous, telling tall tales about one another, or about the other men in their squadron. In contrast, the letters addressed to Charlie were sobering, going into more detail about how dangerous the missions really were. Sometimes he would read them aloud to Rose while they were taking a break from the heat outside the hangar. She admired them for their bravery and tenacity, but didn't think it was fair for Sarah not to know the full truth. Charlie was very adamant that was how Doug and Rob wanted it. It seemed they preferred to shield Sarah from the awful and sometimes grotesque aspects of war.

In time she felt she knew the brothers almost as well as she knew their parents. As Charlie could have predicted, Doug went through the roof when Sarah wrote to say that Charlie was teaching Rose to fly in his plane. She shrugged it off because Charlie did not seem overly concerned about the ranting and raving. "He's five thousand miles away. What can he do about it?"Charlie replied when she asked if they should stop the lessons. Charlie was afraid to admit that he enjoyed the time he spent teaching Rose, it enabled him to keep his mind off the increasing dangers his sons were facing. They began to include her in their salutations, asking Sarah to say hello to her and Doug would warn her not crash his plane. He also realized that he was powerless in keeping her from flying. All he could do was good-naturally promise her a slow death it she harmed the Jenny. Rose prayed for their safe return, but not until she was able to soar alone above the clouds.

It was a lazy afternoon in mid-August that found Rose and Sarah sitting quietly on the front porch. They sat companionably in high-backed rockers, enjoying the warmth of the slight breeze. It was a pleasant change from the humid stillness they had been experiencing for the last few weeks. Charlie was in Chicago preparing a time trial for a new government mail contract and not expected to return until the morning.

Rose was quietly reading from a book of poetry named A Boy's Will by Robert Frost, that she had found on a shelf in the parlor. She was intrigued by one poem in the tome, "The Road Not taken," and found she was continually rereading it to herself. Her heart sang with delight. Charlie had promised to take her in the air tomorrow, to see if she retained what he taught her on the ground.If she proved herself, he would pull some strings and have a friend fly from Chicago to test her for a pilot license. It was culmination of all the long hours spent in the hangar sweating over the Jenny. Sarah sat alongside her, reading the latest letter from Doug in Europe. She sighed and Rose looked over to see her carefully fold the letter and place it over her heart. Rose smiled to herself as she rocked in the chair gently, looking back down at her poem.

"All is well?" she asked.

Sarah smiled and laid the letter in her lap. "All is well," she repeated and sighed again. "They were recruited out of the observation unit and are now headed back to England to training on a new plane called a Nieuport. They should be there for a few months at least, after that back to the front I presume."

"And Jason?" Rose asked quietly. She was still uncomfortable with speaking his name. He was a constant reminder of her actions to Cal that last week on the Titanic. She felt faint twinges of shame when she thought of the way she behaved towards him, wondering now if it could have turned out differently if she hadn't defied him by openly flaunting her relationship with Jack. She could never forgive him for the treatment she endured the night Titanic sank and probably never would. She also resented him for living, when so many better men died, including Jack. Would she have handled it differently if she could go back and do it all over again? No, she thought. All she would do was try harder to save Jack from his watery grave.

She was so young then, and emotionally vulnerable. What changed? she wondered. She might be older, but she wasn't sure she was any wiser.

"He's fine." Sarah s voice broke through her reverie. "Doug says that he too should be leaving for England any day now. He hopes they will all be transferred back to the same unit."Sarah patted down a few loose hairs from her bun. "They're safe for now, all my boys. That's all that matters."

Rose nodded and returned to reading her poem. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,"

"Rose?"

"Hmmm?"Rose answered not looking up from the page.

"Might I ask a question of you?"

Rose marked her page with her finger and looked up at Sarah, smiling. "Of course, Sarah."

"Why do you want to fly?"

Rose smile faded as she turned to look over at the setting sun. The sunsets over the plains in Illinois were truly the most spectacular she had ever seen. How long had it been since she had the opportunity to see such a sunset? Oh, yes. She thought to herself sadly, as she looked down at her hands, I remember.

She was quiet for so long, Sarah believed the question would remain unanswered.

"I suppose the easy answer is because Charlie is willing to teach me. But I understand that is not the answer you are looking for,"Rose smiled quietly and looked at Sarah's gentle and understanding eyes.

"Possibly to prove that women truly are equal to men. But that is not the correct answer, either," she sighed. "When I'm working on that plane, or Charlie is showing me how to handle the controls, it is all I think about. When I go to sleep at night, I dream about flying. It chases the demons away."

Sarah nodded, remembering the many nights that she heard Rose quietly crying in her bedroom.

"Because a long time ago, I promised somebody that I would live. Live my life to the fullest. Make each day count."

The last phrase was spoken so low that Sarah had trouble hearing her.

Rose looked up at Sarah, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "To be honest with you, sometimes I do not know why I do what I do. I always seem to make decisions without thinking about the consequences until it is too late. But this...flying, I feel it will be good for my soul. Possibly because I'm searching for absolution." She looked back to the horizon. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." she whispered, her voice so low and so ragged, it may as well been a stranger's.

"Oh Rosie, why should you be searching for absolution?"Sarah exclaimed.

Rose chose to ignore her question her question for the moment. "My father used to call me his Rosie girl, when I was a young."A glazed look of despair clouded her features. "When life was simpler."

"Do you miss him much?"Sarah asked quietly.

"I miss both my parents more than I care to admit." She rocked her chair and smoothed the cover of the book in her hands. The personal battle she fought deep inside whenever she thought of her parents raged in her clenched stomach. She rubbed it self-consciously, trying to cool the burning sensation that nagged when she thought of the past.

"My father died of apoplexy when I was fifteen. I died to my mother when I was seventeen, five years ago."

Sarah sat straighter in her chair. "Your life must have been very hard."

Rose laughed, but it was a brittle, harsh sound. "Oh no, I was the only child of a Philadelphia society maven. I was spoiled and pampered, but denied only one thing."

She looked at Sarah; her voice was shakier than she would have liked. "My freedom. And such a high price I paid for it." She stood up from the chair and leaned against the porch railing, the burning sensation intensifying. "When my father died, my mother discovered that we were nearly destitute. I can no longer blame her for feeling our, her only solution was marrying me off to a wealthy man. It was all she knew. In the beginning of my relationship with...my fiancée, I was overwhelmed by his charm, his wealth, his place in society. He was to my mother, a Godsend. But my life was beginning to resemble a realm of Dante's Inferno. I slowly began to suspect for him, I would be nothing more than a possession. A pretty bauble to place on a shelf, a trophy to show off at society balls, someone to further his own agenda."

Rose looked at Sarah, her kind, curious face. "He proposed to me on Christmas Eve, at a quiet dinner with his family. Oh, how I could feel the weight of my mother s stare as she silently challenged me to refuse. What was I to do?"She was started to pace across the porch, her voice bitter as she relived this painful memory. "I quietly accepted and he slipped a five carat diamond ring on my finger. Before I fully realized what I had done we were sailing on the Mauritania bound for London, an engagement present from his parents. What a motley crew were we! Cal and I, my mother, two maids and his ex-Pinkerton valet."Her voice grew hoarse with frustration.

Sarah felt helpless as she watched her pace in agitation.

"When we arrived in England, I noticed the change in his demeanor towards me almost instantly. It was just as I feared. He began to choose my clothing, he would tell my maid how to fix my hair. He decided what I was to eat when we dined out, belittling me mercilessly for any slight transgression. My mother would just sit there, triumphant that I was engaged to one of Pennsylvania's most eligible bachelors and the envy of her society friends. I tried to speak to her in Paris about how I was being treated, but she turned deaf ears and looked at me as if I was insane. I felt as if I was being smothered, suffering from fits where I felt as if I couldn't breathe. So, I began to rebel. I would no longer hold my tongue when he saw fit to scold me as if I was a child. I would disappear for hours in the afternoons with my maid when I should have been napping. I started spending exorbitant amounts in the Paris salons, the galleries, buying everything and anything that caught my eye. I would tell the shopkeepers to bill his account at our hotel. We had been in Europe for four months and I felt as if my life were over. When confronted with the bills, he paid them without a second glance. He assured me I was suffering from homesickness and again we were whisked to London to board an ocean liner home to America."

Rose stopped pacing, as she looked at Sarah, her blue eyes intense. "The ship was Titanic."

Sarah gasped, clasping her hands to her heart.

Rose nodded and sat down resignedly on the porch step. "I met a man on the short voyage home, a third class passenger. A beautiful, wonderful man. He was so pure, so full of life. He saved my life, as I was ready to throw it all into the cold, unforgiving sea. He knew me, as if he could see into my soul, as it seemed no one else cared to. I sought out his friendship and he accepted me for who I am. With him I could be the person who desperately wanted to escape from inside. I felt all my armor falling down in a pile at my feet." She chuckled at the memory of him insulting her when he asked her if she loved Cal.

"I must have fallen in love with him the moment he pulled me back over the railing to safety. We had fun he and I, more fun than I think I was allowed in my entire life."

Sarah sat down on the step beside her, placing her hand over Rose's.

"My mother saw him a bug, a hick from steerage that needed to be squashed quickly and completely. She spoke to me quite harshly; reminding me of what our life...her life would be if I did not marry Cal. And Cal, he -- he exploded. He was cold and exact when he told me I was his wife, in practice if not yet in law." She shuddered involuntarily recalling the morning after she danced the night away in the third class common room. She placed her forehead in her hand and looked at Sarah sideways. There could be no hesitation now, once she began it flooded out in a rush.

"I almost gave him up. He sought me out and I sent him away. Told him it wasn't up to him to save my soul. Once again he spoke truthfully, said only I could do that. He understood that I felt as if I were a trapped animal and told me that I was going to die if I didn't break free. I -- I couldn't handle the truth and I ran. I ran back to my world of privilege and prestige all the while hiding behind a worthless name. That afternoon I sat at tea with my mother as she regaled her group with all the headaches that planning the wedding was causing her.

"That's when I realized he was right. I realized that this life that was being planned for me down to the minute details was not worth saving. If I married Cal he would only grow to dominate me so completely that I would never grow, slowly withering away to an empty shell. I would become a shadow of the person I was. I decided it was time for me to break away from this prison they were locking me into and live my life the way I wanted it to be.

"I begged off, leading them to believe I was suffering from a painful headache and I told my mother to not expect me for dinner. I found him on the bow of the ship, deep in thought as he stared out over the ocean. I tried to explain, but he would not allow me to."

Rose stood up and stepped off the porch. She threw her head back to the sky as she spread her arms as if to fly. "I had my first experience with flying when he told me close my eyes and step up on to the railing of the bow. I opened my eyes and the world disappeared. There was only the dying sun, the wind, the sea and his cheek soft against mine. Everything behind us did not matter, only the future, which I hoped to spend together." Rose touched her cheek with her palm and closed her eyes. "You jump, I jump, remember?" She hardly raised her voice above a whisper. She turned to Sarah, her eyes so full of life and unquenchable anguish.

"That sunset was the last time Titanic saw the light of day. The unsinkable ship that was built for millionaires was now to be inherited by the inhabitants of the deep sea." Tears were slowly beginning to track down her cheeks. She wiped them away impatiently, again, the damn tears.

"I lost him that night along with 1500 poor, helpless souls. One boat returned to search for survivors. One." Her voice broke with emotion. "Six people were recovered from the sea, including me. Six out of fifteen hundred. He gave up his life so that I could live." Rose looked at the red sky, so like that last sundown long ago.

"You asked why am I searching for absolution?" Rose whispered.

Sarah was haunted by the image of a dark, flat sea with the only sound cries of despair as a thousand people slowly froze to death. She shook her head hoping to clear the mournful cries of her imagination. How could one person carry all that grief alone for so long? This was not what she expected. She was imagining that Rose was running from an abusive husband, or an overbearing father, not running from a horror such as this. She too was brushing tears from her face as she reached for Rose's hand and grasped it tightly.

"I can feel him sometimes. I hear my name as a whisper on the wind, or his scent in the air when I least expect it. He saved me again as I thought it would be easier to let it all go. To sleep dreamlessly forever. I did not think I could go on without him. I felt as if I had waited my entire life for him, only to have him cruelly ripped away when I needed him the most. But again he intervened. He held me close and made me promise to live. It was a dream, it had to be a dream, I thought when I awoke. A very real, very strange dream. But it meant so much more than that. It meant he was near me always, watching, protecting me. I told him once again that I would never let go."She sat back down on the step and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"And never is a promise, right?"Rose ran a trembling hand through her hair to help calm her erratic heart.

"Instead of waking up missing him more, I awoke with renewed vigor. I had promises to keep. A life to be lived." She clenched her jaw to kill the sob in her throat. "When does it end, this hurt, this guilt? I fooled myself for so long when I was in New Orleans playing the wild girl, dressing in men's clothing so I could steal into all the scandalous places in the red light district. I fooled myself in thinking it was over. My best performances were not on the stage; they were of the girl I pretended to be in real life. But..but it's not over. I still miss him so much."

They sat in silence, while the sun set. All around them the sounds of the night came alive. The farm took on a surreal appearance that night, in the dark, while Rose confessed her past to Sarah. She didn't realize it then, but it was a turning point in her life. It would be crucial first step of forgiveness that she managed to avoid all the while in New Orleans. She was surprised to find herself wanting and needing Sarah's advice

"The hurt will never truly fade, Rose. It will become a dull ache, diminishing in time, and one day you may find your heart is ready to love again. You've been carrying this albatross alone for so long." Sarah stopped, looking off towards the hangar in the darkness to gather her thoughts.

"There is a world's weight of guilt resting on your small shoulders and your heart is as deep as the ocean. It can and will take the pain and survive. You have a very old, very strong soul. The guilt and the pain will eventually find a corner in your heart and you will close the door. Every time you visit these memories you'll find your heart is healing a little more. Especially if you can concentrate on the love that you shared with this man. I'm sure he would not expect you to pine for him forever. If he truly loved you, as it clear he did, he would want you to be happy. You will endure, finding courage where you never imagined it would be. Life moves forward." She faltered, unsure she what she was saying was correct. "If flying is what is helping you move on, if it helps you heal your wounded heart, so be it. Become the first person to circle the globe in your aeroplane and be the envy of every aviator in the world."

Rose chuckled as she dried her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Was that how you survived the death of your husband?"

They sat in full darkness now, their shadows dark and long behind them from the rising moon. It made it easier to speak; not having to look at one another in the gloom. Sarah surprised herself by speaking truthfully of her first marriage. "My situation was different, he was an abusive man and I had two little boys to care for. I wasn't in love with him, hell; I barely liked the man. He died when Robbie was barely out of his nappies; Doug must have been going on five. He was such a mature child, looking at me with those big brown eyes when I told him that his father wouldn't be coming home anymore. His eyes welled up with tears, which I mistook for grief, but then he said he was crying because he was happy I would never be struck again. My heart broke, not because of the death of the worthless man I married, but because his own son could not grieve for him properly. I promised him that night I would never be abused again and I was determined to build a new life for the three of us. A life built on love, not pain."

It was Sarah's turn to falter in her confession. "When I met Charlie three years later, it was like a dream come true. We moved out to Chicago to stay with my sister and I met him on the train ride to the city. He was headed to Chicago on business, but he soon found excuses to stay. I can not tell you if it was love at first sight on his part, but it was for me. For the first time in my life I knew what it felt like to have butterflies in my stomach when I looked him. My life with Charlie was everything I had hoped my first marriage would be. He unconditionally loves my sons and I. What more could I ever hope for in a man? I've never spoken of my life before him and he loves me enough for me not to ask."

It was growing late, the moon and the stars shone down on the two women.

"I too had promises to keep, Rose, promises which I've kept. So shall you." They stood up from the steps to return in the house. "So shall you, you'll see."