Free Wings of Promise by Bonnie Leon Page A

take a risk. Others reasoned one airfield in Anchorage was more than enough. And people like Albert and Helen were willing to help but didn’t have the money.
    Mike and Kate seemed to be the only ones motivated enough to work at finding a buyer, so they had decided to combine their efforts. After a day of brainstorming and seeking out anyone who might be interested, Mike invited Kate back to his place for something to eat.
    It was late when Kate dropped onto Mike’s sofa and watched him mix up a batch of waffle dough. She knew she ought to help but couldn’t drag herself up off the couch.
    “Got some of Helen’s strawberry jam,” Mike said, wearing a smile that didn’t touch his eyes.
    Kate nodded, her mind still searching for a way to keep the airfield out of Jack’s greedy hands. “There must be someone out there who wants the airport.”
    Mike opened a hot waffle iron, slathered the griddle with lard, and poured in dough. Closing the lid, he asked, “You want some eggs?”
    “No thanks.” Kate planted her feet on a coffee table and folded her arms over her chest. “Who haven’t we thought of?”
    “What about Paul?”
    Kate sucked in a breath. “I know he has enough to take care of himself, but he’s obviously not a wealthy man. And he makes almost nothing as a doctor.”
    “Wish we had more time.” Mike poured coffee into a mug. “You want some?”
    “Sure.”
    He handed the cup to her and poured another for himself. He took jam and syrup out of the cupboard and grabbed a plate of butter off the table. “I haven’t talked to my brothers in a while. They might—”
    “Your brothers? You’ve never mentioned them before.”
    “They live in Chicago. They’re partners in a pub. When prohibition was lifted, they stepped right into the business. From what I heard, they’ve done pretty well. But I doubt they’d loan me a penny. We’ve never been close.”
    “Call them. It won’t hurt to ask.”
    “It’s late.” Mike studied the waffle iron. Steam rose from around the edges. “And they’re four hours ahead of us.”
    “If they work in a bar, it’s still early for them.”
    “I don’t know. It’s a long shot.” Mike lifted the griddle and peeked at undercooked waffles. He closed the lid.
    “It’s worth a try. I’ll do everything I can to help.” Kate pushed off the sofa. “You’ve been working up here a long time. You know everything there is to know. You could do it.”
    “I don’t know. There’s a lot to owning an airport, and it wouldn’t leave me much time for flying.”
    “We can’t let Jack buy it,” Kate pressed. “Life will be unbearable. And not just for me, but for all of us. You know how he is. He’ll run roughshod over every one of us. And first chance he gets, he’ll cut our pay.” She strode into the kitchen. “I’ll take care of these.” She peeked at the waffles. “You make the call.”
    “Okay. Okay.” Mike moved to the phone on the wall and flipped through a tablet that hung beside it. When he got hold of the operator, he gave her the pub’s phone number, and then waited.
    Kate closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Please, God, make this work.
    “Hello. This is Mike Conlin. Can I talk to Jerry or Robert?” He waited.
    “Are they there?” Kate asked.
    “They’re getting Jerry.”
    Her stomach quivering, Kate checked the waffles again. They were done. Using a fork, she lifted them out and onto a plate. After adding lard to the griddle, she poured in more dough and closed the lid.
    “Hi. Jerry? This is Mike.” He waited while Jerry responded. “Yeah. I’m good.” He nodded. “I know. It has been a long time. Sounds like you have a full house tonight.
    “I have a proposition for you. It’s a good deal.” He was silent, but Kate could hear a voice on the other end. “No. It is . . . really. Hear me out. This fella I fly for is selling his airport—” Mike stopped and listened. “I know money’s tight.” He nodded. “Yeah,