As Love Blooms (29 page)

He smiled and settled his hands on her waist. “You’re right.”

“Besides, I rather like to fancy myself as unique.” She slipped from his arms and walked backwards in front of him. “A one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable, distinctive soul.”

She hiked her skirt and hopped onto the brick edge of a planter. With her arms extended, she began to skirt the edge.

“Tessa, what are you doing?”

“Living on the edge. You should try it. You could use more adventure in your life.”

“With you, every day is an adventure.”

She giggled. “Do you know what my favorite part of today was?”

He raised his shoulders.

“Having you talk to me tonight. Really talk to me. And—” She pirouetted and wobbled. “Dancing with you.”

Reese hurried over and placed his hands on her waist to steady her. Catching Tessa was his job now, a full-time task he didn’t mind one bit. “You can hardly call what I did dancing.”

“Really? All I remember was the way you looked at me.” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Like you’re doing now. It’s as if—”

“As if I love you?” He lowered her to the ground. “That’s because I do.”

“But Reese, there are a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t. I’m too impulsive, too dramatic, too—”

Reese pressed a finger to her lips. “God planted this seed of love, and I intend to nurture it”—he drew his finger along her bottom lip—“with infinite care.”

Then he did something he would have previously thought impossible. He kissed Tessa Gregory speechless.

Tessa stepped off the streetcar and checked the address in her hand for Joe Walker’s workshop. Since the streetcar stopped quite a distance from the address, she began what she guessed would be a ten-minute walk. Hopefully, Edward would already be there when she arrived. She’d never spent much time in the warehouse district, but she knew it was no place for young ladies.

Like fireworks on Independence Day, excitement burst inside her. She quickened her pace as she grew closer. Today she was going to learn to ride a motorcycle.

A twinge of guilt nudged her. When she’d left the park yesterday, she’d been careful to evade Reese’s not-so-subtle questions as to where she was going. After all, a girl—even a girl in love—deserved a few secrets.

And she was most surely in love. A head-spinning, heart-pounding, mind-reeling love. At least she thought that was what she was feeling. She’d never been in love before, so how was a girl to know?

Since Memorial Day, she and Reese had been inseparable. Throughout the week, they’d talked at length about the garden party, the conservatory, his possible advancement, and Edward. Although Reese didn’t like it, he said he understood her reason for needing Edward’s connections, and after speaking with Edward, he was convinced the man’s heart was held by the girl back at college like Tessa had said. She was almost certain, however, that Reese would have second thoughts about letting her learn to ride a motorcycle.

Then again, it wasn’t up to him to
let
her do anything.

She turned at the corner and scanned the area. Edward stepped from one of the open doors and waved a dingy yellow rag in her direction before disappearing back inside. By the time she reached him, he had wheeled the motorcycle out of Mr. Walker’s workshop. Tessa almost giggled at the loving way Edward drew his hand along the gas tank, where the word
Orbit
had been painted with a flourish.

Tessa placed her hand on the nickel-plated handlebar. “Where do I start? Do I just climb on?”

“No!” Edward’s eyes widened in horror. “Tessa, there’s a lot you need to know.”

“Like what? I can ride a bicycle. How much harder can this be?”

“A lot.” He placed his hand on the bicycle-type leather seat. “First, you need to understand how an engine works.”

“Why? I want to ride a motorcycle, not build it.”

He scowled.

“Cheese and crackers, then go ahead and tell me, Edward.”

After five minutes of hearing about pistons, compression, belt drives, and other such nonsense, Tessa’s ears hurt. She moaned. “Can we please start the first lesson now?”

“The second lesson.” He pressed his lips firmly together, and his brows drew close. “What I was trying to explain was the first lesson, and I’m not sure you were even listening.”

She covered her heart with her hand. “I promise I’ll do better with the actual riding part.” Then, for added effect, she dipped her chin and batted her eyelashes a few times. That usually worked on most men.

“Oh, all right.” He motioned her to join him on the other side of the motorcycle. “We’ll begin with how to start it.” He showed her the lever to turn the gas on, the way to pump the oil into the crank case, and how to set the oil dripper. “You want two drops to fall about every seven seconds.”

Tessa squatted to watch the oil drip inside the glass cylinder, then spotted a lever attached to the gas tank. “What’s that lever for?”

“It tightens the belt and engages the engine.” He paused and studied her apparel. “Good thing you wore those overalls. A skirt would get caught in the belt.” He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a leather cap much like some motorists wore. “Here. Put this on. It will keep your hair from blowing. Now, I’ll start the cycle the first time to make it easier for you to do on your own.”

Tessa tugged the leather cap in place, tucked her hair beneath the flaps, and buckled the strap under her chin. Then, while Edward spoke, she kept a close eye on his hands. He explained how the rider turned the grip on the left handlebar all the way and snapped it into place to lift the exhaust valve and release the compression. “This left grip controls both the compression release and the spark advance.”

“Sparking?”

He frowned. “See? I knew you weren’t listening. The engine needs an ignition spark to start.”

“Oh, that spark.”

He rolled his eyes and mounted the cycle. With the kickstand lifting the back wheel about two inches off the ground, the motorcycle went nowhere when he began pedaling. “As I’m pedaling, Tessa, I’m going to tension the belt, then I’ll move this left grip back so I’ll have compression to start the engine and turn it for the spark. The right grip is the throttle.”

“The throttle makes it go faster, right? See, I was listening.”

“Naturally, you heard that part.” He pumped his legs. The belt around the rear wheel turned the pulley on the engine, and the machine sprang to life.

The steady putt-putt-putt reverberated off the buildings. “It’s quieter than I expected.”

“I can change that.” He grinned and flipped another lever. The putt-putt changed to a rumble, then he switched it back. “It has one setting for city driving and one for the country, where folks don’t mind the noise.”

To turn it off, he told her to release the throttle and then turn the left hand grip to discharge the engine’s pressure. The thrumming of the engine died away. “Isn’t she amazing? As quiet as a Harley, as fast as the Indian, and as dependable as the Excelsior.”

“How fast can I go?”

“You can’t go fast. Not yet anyway.” He sighed. “Tessa, I’m not so sure this is a good idea. What if you get hurt?”

“A deal’s a deal, and don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he muttered. He swept his hand toward the machine. “Go ahead and get on.”

Pulse pounding, Tessa mounted the motorcycle. It felt more bulky beneath her hands than a bicycle, and infinitely more powerful. “Can I take off and go now?”

“If you can start it.” He chuckled.

Was this some kind of trick? She’d seen him do it with ease, but he didn’t appear to believe she could do it. Maybe he’d kept some important piece of information from her?

She set her mind on the task at hand and followed each step.
Turn left
grip until you hear a click. Get on. Release left
grip. Start pedaling. Ease tension lever forward to engage the
belt. Turn right-hand throttle to give the engine gas.

Her heart jumped when the engine roared to life, vibrating her body. “Now what?”

“I’ll lift it off the stand, and you can take it slow.” He stepped into place. “Ease into it. Make a nice little loop. Got it?”

She nodded. Behind her, she felt the back end of the motorcycle raise and then touch the ground. She jerked the throttle to the right and the bike darted forward. The front wheel wobbled, and she struggled to keep the machine upright while maintaining the speed she needed.

“Easy, Tessa!”

After a few tries, she figured out how to manage speed, turning, and balance. Exhilaration fired through her as she upped the speed on her way back to Edward. What a heady feeling of freedom! No one could tell her what to do now.

“Slow down, Tessa.” Edward’s voice rose above the sound of the engine.

She eased back the throttle. No sense in upsetting him.

An automobile flew around the corner and drove in front of her. She gasped.

Lord, help me!

If Reese had not given in to that second cup of coffee, he wouldn’t be standing here in the boardinghouse facing the Henderson brothers. Then again, he’d been praying for opportunities to show the young men Christ’s love, so maybe this was the answer to his prayers.

Clem shoved his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. “Honest, Reese, we’ve got jobs, and we don’t want to miss the first day. You want us to pay Mrs. Baxter, don’t you?”

Reese frowned. They should have paid her weeks ago.

“And don’t look down your nose at us.” Albert put his cap on. “We need a ride this one time. We’re not used to the morning streetcar schedule.”

Of course they weren’t used to the schedule. Neither of them had risen before noon for almost a month. Reese sighed. It was certainly much easier showing God’s love to more lovable people, but he didn’t recall reading any conditions on Christ’s directions, so he might as well give the Henderson brothers a lift. Tessa had told him she was going to be delayed, and he’d already arranged with Mr. Nussbaumer to work later than usual to accommodate for a late arrival.

“Come on then.” Reese opened the screen door and held it for the two brothers. “I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”

Riding with Albert and Clem was far from Reese’s favorite way to start the day, but he did his best to keep a civil conversation going. By the time they reached the warehouse district, he had learned the young men had lofty ambitions to make a fortune in the city, and they had no intention of returning home to their father’s farm.

From the beatings they mentioned, he didn’t blame them, but he also had his previous observation confirmed. The brothers might want to make a mint, but they didn’t plan on working hard to get it. Despite the compassion he felt for them regarding their upbringing, he couldn’t let go of the frustration these two made him feel.
Lord, fill me with
your love. Help me show them there’s another way.

“Take the next right,” Clem said from the backseat.

Reese slid the throttle on the steering wheel downward, and the car slowed a bit. “It’s good to see that you two have found work, and I hope you’ll make the most of this opportunity.”

Albert hit a pair of work gloves against his pants, and dust flew. “This job will have to do until something better comes along.”

Clem clapped him on the shoulder and guffawed. “Or until your poker game improves.”

“Is that where you’re blowing your money? On cards?” Anger fanned to a flame inside Reese like the fire in a forge. Poor Mrs. Baxter was going without her rent so these two could live a life of leisure.

He gunned the engine as they rounded the corner.

Albert jumped. “Look out!”

Reese glimpsed a motorcycle hurtling in their direction and slammed on the brakes.

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