By Air Mail Ch.05

He laughed about it and Emmy suddenly felt an urge to hug him for nothing.

"Well, I've learned a few things," he said, "I called and found out that Harry's route joins with mine and he has a part of Route 18 going from Elko, Nevada to San Francisco, sharing a little of the load with another fellow. I've got pretty much all of Route 5 from Elko to Pasco in the state of Washington. We're going to do him a little favor and pick up his mail load in Cheyenne to drop off in Elko, so that he can get an early start the next time that he comes through there. We'll get our own mail load there and fly the first route in to Pasco as soon as we're able.

Harry's not here. He wanted a day off and didn't know that we were coming today, since I didn't exactly make a big deal out of announcing it or anything.

"What's in the bag, Quinton?" she asked, and he smiled, "This is still mostly an Air Force base, but they allow some of us lowly civilians in here. I found out that the diner over there is thought of pretty highly and they're a little famous for their chili.

Well I wanted to come right back here to get you so we could have a proper meal together and all. But I thought about it and finally decided that we'd have a day to square ourselves away and I want to get you something proper to wear, if you'll let me, so that's what I want to do tomorrow. For tonight, they're still calling for gusty conditions so I thought that we'd stay out here to ride it out.

I still had the problem of dinner and the gift shop was just about to close, so I bought a couple of wide-mouthed thermos jars and I had the waitress wash them out and fill them up with chili. I bought a loaf of bread too and I even have some spoons in here in camping sets."

"You wanted to get me to take me to dinner?" Emmy asked.

"Is that such a strange thing?" he smiled, "I don't always want to hide you away inside of an airplane."

Emmy didn't know what to say. "But I've got my hair braided like ... I'd look like a -"

He nodded, "A really pretty woman, I know."

"I was gonna say squaw," she said and he nodded, "I know and I don't care. You're you and I like you."

His expression changed to one of uncertainty, "Or would that have been presumptuous of me?"

She tilted her head, "Presumpt- what? What do you mean?"

"I dunno," he said, "Maybe you wouldn't want to be seen with me. I look like a -"

"A really good-looking cowboy," Emmy laughed, "I know. I think that I could get past it."

She held the back of her hand up to her forehead as she raised her face with her eyes closed tightly as though she was suffering, "Oh woe is me," she wailed a little, "How will I bear the shame of being seen with the best-looking man in the state?"

As she lowered her hand, chuckling a little, she saw that he wasn't laughing; "Now you're making fun of me."

She shook her head, still chucking, "Oh. You're embarrassed to be handsome? Jeez, tough ride there, Quinton."

"Wait a minute," he said, "so we can go for breakfast?" he asked and then Emmy was lost, so she hugged him, just happy that he didn't seem to care a fig over how she looked to anyone. She pressed her cheek to his; not giving a damn that it was a little prickly and she kissed him there too just because.

"Whoa," he smiled.

"What? "She asked, "I'm not supposed to do that?"

He shook his head, "No, I just think that I must have done something right there and I want to know what it was - so that I can do it again, if I get hugs and kisses out of it."

She shrugged, "I'm usually prepared for when people don't want me around. I thought that you didn't take me with you because of that. I mean, it's alright, Quinton, I just -"

"No," he said, looking slightly annoyed, "If this was a car and not something that I have a lot of money into, I'd have wanted to take you with me. I wanted to take you along anyway, but I left my gun in the footlocker and I didn't have a lock for it. I bought one of those too, just now, so that I CAN walk away from it, seeing as it seems to make you so nervous.

I know that the war is over, but this is still a military place and they tend not to have a lot of humor to them, being so important and all. That's the difference between here stateside and where I was. Here, they pretend they're important. There, we actually looked for something to laugh about.

Otherwise, I wanted you along. We're friends, just starting out and working together and everything, but I don't want to go and leave you behind over ..."

He looked at her, "Who wouldn't want ...?"

He seemed to sag a little then, "Emmy, I wish now that I knew how you felt and all. Look, for the record, I said that you were beautiful because it's true. I'd love to be seen anywhere with you."

He looked annoyed again for a moment, "Look, if something like that ever comes up in you again, I want you to tell me, alright? Where in the world did that come from, anyway?"

Emmy shrugged, "Sometimes, when she needed to get something, like from the bakery trying to get day-old stuff for nothing, Momma would tell me to wait outside, or if she saw somebody that she might have wanted for the night to get some money from, she'd tell me to scat and come home real quiet later. I'm just ... I'm pretty used to that."

Quinton looked horrified, but he shook his head at last, "Well forget all of that, Emmy. Right now, forget it all. I can't imagine that I'd ever be ashamed to be in your company. Come on, let's eat, alright?"

He opened the footlockers and stared at the neat order of things and she handed him the camping sets of cutlery. After that, he pulled out a couple of military-style olive drab flashlights with their heads at ninety degrees to the rest of them, telling her that they were for clipping onto clothing or things while you worked. He opened the case of D-cells and loaded them up to turn them on and hang them from things so that they could see.

It was only a rustic meal for a pair of people in some slightly basic conditions, but to Emmy, it was a feast. She knew what thermos bottles were, but the hot coffee that they'd shared earlier had been her first actual experience with the devices. Watching Quinton open the larger ones to pour their hot chili into the plastic bowls amazed her and she learned then, looking back on everything, that he could sometimes be given to a little bit of understatement now and then.

He'd told her that he'd bought a loaf of bread to go with the chili. Well that was so, but he'd said nothing about the entire loaf's slices being buttered before being re-assembled and put back in the bag. And there were two pats of butter sandwiched in squares of waxed paper.

"How many planes do you have to shoot down to be an ace?" she asked out of the blue as they began to eat, "Five? I think that I read someplace that it was five."

"Where did that come from?" he asked, looking a little bewildered.

"Yup," she nodded, remembering for certain, "It's five. How many did you shoot down, Quinton?"

He looked uncomfortable, going on about damaged ones and all, but she shushed him after a minute. "I don't really care. I'm just trying to figure something out about you. So how many? I don't mean damaged that could still fly and got away from you. Just tell me how many you shot down."

"I didn't say it to make me look -"

He stopped when she put her fingers against his lips.

"How many, Quinton?"

"Seven."

"Thanks, and I'm right," she smiled, "You're not the kind of man who blows his own horn. Now eat some more and forget about my dumb questions. I didn't ask you so that you'd feel stupid."

He nodded and they began in silence.

"Why did you want to know that about me?" Quinton asked.

Emmy looked over, "Girls ask things for their own reasons. You never told me about the gun. Why am I gonna have to wear one?"

"You'll be dealing with the US Mail," he said.

"So?" she asked, "I've never seen a mailman with one."

He sighed and looked down for a moment. "When I was flying in the war, there was always the possibility of being forced down someplace in the middle of nowhere through anything from battle damage to mechanical failure. They wouldn't let us carry rifles in our planes, but they encouraged us to carry a revolver. I wouldn't have a .38. They're better as hammers than pistols. I went out on leave before we shipped out and I bought that colt and some ammunition for it. I might be able to at least hunt something with that.

Where we're going to be flying - a lot of it - is wilderness. True, it's American wilderness, but that doesn't mean anything. I've seen packs of wolves, lynx, bears, moose, wolverines, and lots of mountain lions back in the woods where I come from. I landed on a lake once in a float plane and was just tying up the plane at the dock when I looked up and there was a bear walking toward me right on the dock."

"What did you do?" Emmy asked him.

He chuckled, "I untied the plane and I pushed off as fast as I could, is what I did."

"I don't think that your gun would have done any more than make the bear mad at you," Emmy smiled, "But I get what you mean."

Quinton grinned, "If I'd have known that that six-gun was going to cause us both to waste body heat talking about it so much, I'd have put it in the footlocker a lot sooner. I just thought of it too late. I didn't mean that we'd walk around with six-guns, either. I just want to have them a little handy when we're working, just in case."

The wind gusted again and it carried a little rain with it. They listened for it long after it had gone. "This is a little unusual for Pueblo," he said, "They don't often get this much rain. It's pretty dry here."

"Do you think that it'll get cold tonight?" she asked and he shrugged, "It's a little cold right now for this time of year.

We'll be ok, Emmy. I didn't know that I've have you along on this trip. I thought that I'd be alone in here and talking to myself. I bought good rugged gear for cheap and in with the rest - the blankets and the parkas, I bought four sleeping bags, two of them for really cold places."

"I uh ... I know that, Quinton," she smiled pointing; "I've got them all out and zipped open to let them breathe a bit. Go on."

He looked over and he smiled, because she'd done what he'd wanted to and forgotten.

"The seats are mounted in rails along the floor. I haven't decided just where to put them, so I had the people at Beechcraft leave them loose in the rails. They won't go anywhere, but they can be moved. We can move them out of the way to give us room.

We'll split up the bedding and one of us can sleep over here and the other one can sleep -"

"Over here too," she said, chuckling and pointing again, "The way that this thing is tilted, we're both gonna end up there sooner or later. We may as well just accept it.

I want to ask you something, Quinton. You can think of it as me asking you for a favor, if you want.

I've had to put up with listening to all kinds of insults over getting caught with Janey with my pants down and everything. I've never been with a man."

She looked away while trying to shore up her nerve, "A little funny I think, coming from the daughter of a low-down slut like I am. I never had a boy who even liked me. All the same, if there was one thing that Momma actually taught me - on purpose, that is, it's how to please a man. I just never got the chance to use any of it before."

She looked up at him from where she sat cross-legged on a folded-up blanket there on the floor and leaning back against the quilted padding of the wall, "You helped me today, and not just by getting me out of a jam. I don't care about anything that I have to do or learn, Quinton. I'm going to have that job, no matter what."

He looked at her across the dimly lit cabin in some surprise, "Emmy ... Emmy, I ..."

She shook her head, "This hasn't got anything to do with that, Quinton. I'm feeling better about a lot of things and I've been in here with you all day and learning about something that I never knew that I liked, and ..."

She smiled a little hopefully, "I like you and I want to do something good for both of us. I've never been with a man, like I said, and ..."

She looked at him and he watched her hanging onto her courage, just by the nervous way that she bit her lower lip.

She took a breath and Quinton knew right then that it had been to push herself. He waited and then she let it out in a very soft sigh, knowing that what she wanted to say to him was still there unspoken in her chest.

"I've finally met a man that I'd want to be my first. I want to do that so that I know what it is to hold a man really close that I find feelings for in me. I'm not asking for more than that. I want to know how that feels, Quinton, like I wanted to know how it felt to kiss your cheek earlier.

I'm a virgin, but if you've got any rubbers ..."

There was a pause where Emmy swore that she heard her breath, his breath, and she couldn't tell whose pulse she heard, guessing that it just had to be hers.

He shook his head, while she tilted hers, "Weren't you ever a boy scout or nothin'? I thought that they taught everybody to be prepared and like that. Ok, fine. I still want to sleep with you. You'll just have to let me use some other things that Momma taught me."

"You're serious ... "he asked more in the way of a very quiet statement - almost a whisper in the quiet aluminum cocoon which they were in.

Emmy drew another one of those breaths and she nodded while letting it out, "You've helped me more in an afternoon than anyone ever did for me but my father."

She rolled her eyes, "Not that anything like this ever came up in his teachings to me, you understand. Now, I want to do something good for you and myself. I still want to be your girl Saturday in the morning and all. But I think that I care enough about you even as a friend for this."

"Don't you mean my girl Friday?" he smiled.

"No," she smiled back, "I've always liked Saturdays better than Fridays."

He shook his head, "I don't like the term, not for this and not for you. I know where it comes from. I've read the book. This isn't a desert island and you're not my servant."

"I've read it too, in the library at school," she said, "And I think that I'm gonna have to be that while I'm learning everything. I don't mind, Quinton, and ..."

She looked down, "And if you find that you still think that I'm a little beautiful to you in the morning, then I think that I'd really like it if you could explain that to me a little bit - so that I can get it nailed down in my mind how that can be and then maybe I can shut up about it in my head."

He sat leaning back against the opposite wall, "Did your mother really teach you things like you were talking about?"

She nodded, smiling a little, "She told me I was useless at anything else, so I'd better learn at least one thing so I could make my way. Then she'd tell me how everything went, like it was some holy secret or something. The hardest part for me was not telling her that I already knew most of it, just not the whys and what was behind what she did, when she did it and why she did it then."

She smiled a little shyly, "I used to watch her with the men she brought home. She never knew because by then, she'd be drunked-up enough for it. I knew that I just had to be real careful that the man didn't find out. I watched from the time that that I was eighteen or so, since I figured that I'd have to know something sometime. It didn't do anything for me, I just couldn't sleep sometimes and I was curious.

Though my fascination didn't last more than once or twice. I mean, if you've seen dogs do it and cattle do it, then people just look like something in between, right?

I used to have the hardest time not laughing my head off if I imagined people getting stuck together like dogs."

She could see that he didn't like the images in his mind from what she'd said, so before she'd lost the moment, she shrugged, "Do you still think that I'm beautiful? I - I mean after what I just said?"

He nodded as he set his empty bowl aside, "Come here, Emmy. I'll try to explain it to you right now, if you want to hear it."

She shook her head with a sheepish little grin, "I'm not finished eating yet. I've never had enough food that I thought I could waste any. I've been talking all this time. I'll come sit with you in a minute, though I think that I'd prefer to hear about it while I'm lying down, if it's all the same to you."

Some distance away, another aircraft had been starting up it's engines, getting ready to leave, just like a featureless bus in Emmy's mind, bound for somewhere far away. As it taxied along to reach the end of the runway, it's navigation lights flashed at regular intervals and the glow of it came into the space where they sat looking at each other.

Quinton stared at Emmy as she set her bowl aside for a moment to rise up on her knees a short distance away from him. As he watched her appearing and then disappearing in the glow of the lights from outside, she slipped his jacket from her shoulders and let it fall behind her as she began to undo the buttons on her overalls, peeling it off her shoulders before she pulled the wool sweater over her head.

"I can show you one of the things that I learned, if you'd like," she smiled, running her hand over one of her breasts slowly. It was cool inside where they were and Emmy made use of it this way, knowing that his eyes would lock onto that hard nipple and stay there. The lights on the slowly passing aircraft outside winked off at that moment and a second later when they blinked back on the next time, Quinton was staring as though in disbelief.

She'd switched both her hands and her nipples and was now running her left hand over her other breast.

She smiled, "I love that old sweater for how warm it is, but right now, I want to just ... well, never mind. I'd just ruin the mood if I said it by making you laugh the way that you do - that I like so much. I can show you something else I learned. Watch now."

She picked up her bowl and her piece of bread and he watched her swab the unbuttered side around the bowl slowly for a moment before she held it up and slowly brought her tongue out to lick the chili and then put the crust into her mouth. It was only her not wasting food, but it was also about the most sensual thing that he'd ever seen a woman do anywhere.

Nurses in the South Pacific couldn't hold a candle to Emmy right now in his mind. He'd been truthful to her when he'd expressed his opinion that she was lovely. Right now, beautiful Emmy was demonstrating that she could turn that into erotic without a thought.

Quinton sat transfixed as she looked at him, her mouth just a little full as she chewed the bread and swallowed, still smiling softly. Her eyes slid down him momentarily and then she was looking at his eyes again, her smile never leaving.

She'd seen what she'd wanted to see in the straining bulge of his jeans.

Emmy leaned forward and began to crawl toward him slowly on all fours, her overalls getting a little tangled up as she went and her not seeming to notice.

"Open your shirt for me, Quinton," she sighed, "I need to feel you against me. And while you're at it, you'd better undo your pants and let that thing out before it breaks or something."

It all involved a little fumbling on both their parts, but at last he sat, still transfixed on the edge of the seat with his shirt open and his pants around his ankles. Emmy was on her knees and then she was in his arms trying to melt into Quinton as though she was the rain that he needed.

Her first kisses were soft and a little tentative, but that passed in seconds as she realized that she'd been right to want him, right to dare to have her thoughts of this and so fucking damned right in her knowing that it would be this good.