Read Online The Wings of Morning by Murray Pura - Free Book Online

where she was chatting with the next person in line, a boy named Peter King, a good friend of Lynndaya’s brother Luke.
    “Emma,” she called cheerfully.
    Emma looked toward her with surprise, and even, Lyyndaya noticed, a dash of guilt. “Oh, hello, Lyyndaya,” she said, working up a smile that didn’t include her eyes.
    “How are you?” asked Lyyndaya.
    “Perfect,” she chirped, widening her smile. “And you?”
    “I’m perfect also.” She extended the slice of pie she was carrying on a white plate. “This is for you.”
    Emma flushed and stammered. “For
me
? I thought—I thought surely you had brought it for young Peter—”
    “Oh, no,” Lyyndaya said with a smile, reaching over and giving Peter a playful shove, “he’ll have to come down to the table himself and bring me some daisies if he wants a piece of pie.”
    Peter grinned. “But after my aeroplane ride.”
    “If there’s any pie left by then,” Lyyndaya teased.
    “I don’t see why—” Emma was still struggling. “You—didn’t need to go to this trouble.”
    “It was my pleasure.” Lyyndaya plucked a fork from a pocket under her large white apron. “Here you go. It’s cherry, your favorite.”
    “Yes.” Emma still looked bewildered. “My favorite.”
    “Not just any cherry pie either. This is from Mrs. Beachy’s oven.”
    “Oh, Mrs. Beachy—do you mean this is from one of those big ones she makes?”
    “Twenty-nine inches across.”
    Emma laughed and began to regain her composure. “I don’t know how she does it.”
    “Neither do I,” said Lyyndaya. “If I tried to bake a pie that size I’m sure one side would be raw and the other side burnt.”
    “Yes,” Emma said, plunging her fork through the crust, “that would be me also. Do you and Peter mind? I haven’t had anything all day and I’m starved.”
    “Go ahead,” coaxed Lyyndaya. “How many people have gone flying so far?”
    Cherry juice stained one side of Emma’s mouth. “Oh, I have the card here—people write their names in—six, seven,
ja
, Pastor Miller is number eight. Jude is stopping at twenty. But if you wanted to go up, we could squeeze you in right after Peter.”
    Lyyndaya shook her head and forced herself to laugh. “No, no, I’ve had my flying adventures. How about yourself?”
    “Oh, I’ve been up already, it was
marvelous
.”
    Lyyndaya felt the stab of pain again, but was determined to push on with the conversation and the forgiveness. “Did you—did you do anything different?”
    Emma was chewing smoothly as she finished the pie. “What do you mean—different?”
    “Well, did you do any crazy things, like go faster or—do a barrel roll?” Lyyndaya hated herself for asking, bracing for the added pain of finding out what she did not want to know.
    “Heavens, no. I’m not like you, Lyyndy. You were always the tomboy, I was always the lady. Remember our games? You ran through the mud puddles, I went around them. You jumped into the creek to swim, I waded at the edge.” She handed the now empty plate and fork back to Lyyndy. “Thank you so much for the pie, that was so sweet of you. Would you like to say hello to Jude? He’ll be landing in a few minutes.” She pointed toward the sun where Lyyndaya noticed the Canuck was fast approaching the hay field, dropping lower and lower.
    Lyyndaya began to move away. “No, I have to get back—I’ve left Mother and my sisters alone long enough.”
    “Perhaps someone should bring Jude some pie,” Emma suggested. “Do you know what he likes, Lyyndaya?”
    “I’m not sure. I’ll send Sarah over with one apple and one blueberry,” Lyyndaya said over her shoulder.
    “What if he likes what I like?” smiled Emma.
    “I’ll send cherry and peach too. Our aviator can have a feast.”
    “He’ll get too fat to fit in the cockpit.”
    When Jude landed with Pastor Miller a couple of minutes later, Sarah was arriving with the four slices of pie.
    “That seems too much for one