Wings of a Dream (43 page)

His lips curled into a smile that chased every trace of gray from his eyes. “Marry me?”

A screech overhead drew my gaze to the sky. A hawk soared lazy circles far above me. Ollie’s rope-skipping rhyme from school chanted in my head.

I had a little bird,

its name was Enza.

I opened the window

and in flew Enza.

Influenza had swooped down like a hawk on a field mouse and changed the entire direction of my life. But she’d also ripped the veil from my eyes. I suddenly saw my heart clearly, like my reflection in a mirror instead of the surface of a pond. Before, my dreams involved moving away from what I didn’t want, instead of moving toward a true desire. Away from the mundane. Away from Mama’s directives.

Now I could see what my heart wanted all along: a family to love and cherish, a simple home to call my own. A life lived fully every moment. A savoring of joy, even a relishing of pain, because it proved my existence on this earth, not some flight above it.

Ollie took a step toward us, Janie filling her arms.

Frank loosened his grip on my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. “I came home afraid of being alone. But I wasn’t alone. You were here.”

He put his hands on his hips, laughed, shook his head. “You exasperated me sometimes, Rebekah. No doubt about that. But you made me feel alive. And you taught my heart to love again. I never expected it to happen so soon.”

My suitcase dropped to the ground with a thud, but my mouth refused to move. He laid his hand on my cheek. I leaned into it, eyes closed. A breeze swept past me, scented with the promise of spring. But this time I had no desire to fly on its fickle path. This time, my feet remained contently atop solid ground.

“We’ll never be rich or modern, but we have lots of love to give.” He moved closer, his body almost touching mine.

My eyes flew open as joy curled up from my toes, lifting my mouth into a smile. “I can’t think of anything more I could ask for.” Then a giggle rose up through my tears. I bit my lip, but it refused to stay inside. “Except maybe an automobile of our own.”

Frank’s laughter rang out across the Blackland Prairie. “I’ll even teach you to drive it. I promise.”

His arms circled me, pulled me close. The children danced around us, cheering happily. And the moment Frank’s lips touched mine, I knew that in this seemingly ordinary life I’d encounter nothing less than one adventure after another.

W
hen Spanish influenza swept the country in the autumn of 1918 and, to a lesser extent, in the winter of 1919, it did more than close schools and churches and fill cemeteries; it changed families forever. Two of my great-grandmothers succumbed to the illness, leaving husbands and children behind. In one of those families, a niece came to care for four children (my grandmother being the oldest girl) while their father fought in France. And she married him after he came home! However, beyond those similar circumstances, the characters in
Wings of a Dream
are entirely fictional.

In the process of writing a novel, many hands have a part, sometimes over the course of many, many years.

Thank you to the sponsors of the 9th Annual Legacies Dallas History Conference, where Melissa Prycer’s presentation on women during WWI and Dr. Erik D. Carlson’s on WWI pilot training at Love Field gave focus to my story. I am also indebted to Lolisa Laenger and Hal Simon at the Heritage Farmstead Museum in Plano, Texas, and to various docents at Dallas Heritage Village for taking time to answer my questions.

Charlene Patterson, thank you for believing in and championing this book, even in its rougher drafts. Your input has made me a better writer and made this story more than I ever imagined it could be.

Bethany House staff, you are awesome! Thank you for being so good at what you do and for being such a pleasure to work with.

Cherryl, Cheryl, Mary, Leslie, Beth, Becky, Jill, Andrea, Paula, Mom, Dad, Debra and Kirby, Dan and Jen, Dawn and Billy, your prayers mean more to me than you will ever know. May the Lord abundantly bless you for your faithful encouragement.

Mary DeMuth and Leslie Wilson, you strengthen my stories and my faith. I’m so glad we journey this writing road together.

Robin and Bill, thank you for always pointing me to Jesus. You are more than friends. You are family.

I so appreciate my parents, Ann and Don Delp. How do I say thank you for never laughing at my dream, for making sure I had good books to read, and for shouting my accomplishments to the world? And of course for birthing me into a family full of such interesting characters!

Elizabeth, Aaron, and Nathan, I am so honored that the Lord let me be your mom. The three of you mean more to me than all the books in the world. (And you know that’s saying a lot!) Thanks for putting up with the writing days, the research days, and all the craziness in between.

Jeff, our journey together has taken so many twists and turns we didn’t expect, but I wouldn’t want to experience this life with anyone but you. I love you. (And you are an awesome agent, too!)

Finally, to my sweet Savior. I will boast in You alone. May You never be ashamed that I call You my God.

A
fter a lifetime of penning short stories and the beginnings of novels, Anne Mateer completed her first full-length novel in 2001, thanks to the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) challenge to write 50,000 words in a month. From that point forward, she studied the craft of writing, attended writers conferences, joined a critique group, and practiced, practiced, practiced. She completed four more novels. Three times she received the encouragement of being named a finalist in ACFW’s Genesis Contest before receiving a contract for
Wings of a Dream.

Anne has a passion for history and historical fiction, a passion that often rears its head during family vacations. Thankfully, her husband shares and indulges her love of the past. Anne and her husband live near Dallas, Texas, and are the parents of three young adults.

Find out more about Anne at
www.annemateer.com

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bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook

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