The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

Lizzy tried to think of something snappy, but all she could come up with was “I don’t think anybody will believe three doors.”


“I don’t think so either,” Mildred replied gloomily. She looked from one to the other of them, pushing her mouth in and out. “But I wonder,” she said. “What if each of you had a black eye? That way, none of us would stand out.”

Verna blinked. “You want us to whap one another in the eye just to—”

“No,” Lizzy said firmly. “We’ll do what we can to help, but that is not a good idea, Mildred.”

Mildred threw up her hands. “Well, it’s the only idea I have.” She stood. “I need to get back to work now. Black eyes or not, I have a reputation to uphold.” She sighed. “And from the looks of the bank account, this will be the last big party I’ll give.”

Back again in the LaSalle, Verna drove first to Lizzy’s house, where Lizzy went inside and got one of the fliers they’d printed up to publicize the air show and the Watermelon Festival. They made another stop in town, where they talked for a few moments to Buddy Norris, letting him know what they were up to and why—without spilling more of the private details than they could help. And then they drove out to the Marigold Motor Court and dropped off Lily Dare’s bag.

By this time, it was nearly noon, and the morning had turned into one of those glorious days that sometimes bloom in the middle of a hot summer. The air was cool (well, cooler than it had been, anyway), the sun was cheerful but not overbearing, and the trees and grass were the color of polished emeralds. A pattern of birds wheeled overhead, their wings flashing silver against the serene blue sky.

“Perfect weather for the Watermelon Festival,” Lizzy said happily. As they drove past the fairgrounds, she was glad to see that the ticket booth was in operation and decorated with a flock of tethered red, white, and blue balloons left over from Darling’s Fourth of July parade. The tents were all erected and the carnival rides were up. The merry-go-round was playing a cheerful hurdy-gurdy tune, the Ferris wheel was turning, and threaded through the hubbub Lizzy could hear the shouts of the carnies going about their work. The odor of fresh hot buttered popcorn filled the open car.

“I love the smell of popcorn,” Lizzy said. “Before we go back to Darling, let’s stop at the fairgrounds so I can have a look around. I want to be sure that the tent where Aunt Hetty will put our Dahlias’ garden stuff is set up and ready to go.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Verna said grimly. “But we need to get this other business settled before we do anything else.”

She was staring straight ahead and driving more carefully than usual. Clearly, she was already concentrating on what they were planning to do. In Lizzy’s estimation, though, their scheme depended way too much on luck. It was a gamble, and Lizzy wasn’t optimistic. Raylene’s hunch could be completely wrong, and then what?

When they got to the airstrip, they saw that the airplane with its advertising banner had done its job, and then some. There was already a sizeable crowd, with cars, wagons, and bicycles parked along both sides of the grassy landing area and more arriving all the time. Dozens of onlookers—mostly men and boys, in farm overalls, work clothes, and battered old hats—were wandering across the grass or sitting on the hoods of their vehicles, the men smoking cigarettes, chewing tobacco, and occasionally pulling a surreptitious flask out of a back pocket.

Rex Hart’s yellow Stearman, with a passenger, was already taxiing out to the end of the grassy runway, like an eager bird maneuvering to get airborne. Lily Dare was seated in the cockpit of the Jenny, and a young man wearing the team’s distinctive red shirt was helping Jed Snow climb into the plane for a ride. When Jed was securely buckled in, the young man ran around the front of the plane and pulled the propeller, then pulled it again. The engine caught, the propeller began to spin, and as the watching crowd cheered, Lily revved the motor and turned the plane to taxi for a takeoff, scattering onlookers from the field. A third plane, blue, with an American flag painted on its nose, waited on the grass to take on the next passenger.