Bicycle Built for Two (14 page)

She gripped the table. “And exactly what is
that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you take every single thing I
say in the worst possible light. For God’s sake, Miss Finney, will
you please just relax and listen to me? And stop twisting
everything I say until it means something else, will you? It’s an
aggravating trait, and one you ought to conquer if you expect to
get anywhere in this life.”

Kate held on to her mulish mood for a couple
of seconds longer, then eased up a bit. Without lowering her guard,
she said cautiously, “I’ll try.”

He cast a beseeching glance at the ceiling
before looking at her again. “Thank you.”

“So, what’s this proposition of yours?”

He sucked in a deep breath, as if he still
didn’t trust her. Well, that was fine with her. She didn’t trust
him, either.

“It’s about your mother.”

She relaxed a little bit more. “Oh.”

“She mentioned that she liked the
country.”

“Yeah?” So what? She didn’t say that, since
Alex might think it sounded challenging. He might be right.

“I went to see my own mother yesterday. She
lives on our family farm about twenty miles southwest of
Chicago.”

“A farm?” Kate wrinkled her nose. “Oh, yeah,
that’s right. You’re a farmer, aren’t you?” Kate couldn’t reconcile
the elegant, dapper Alex English with her mental image of a farmer.
And that, she figured, only went to show her yet once more how
little she knew about anything.

“Yes.” He sounded a trifle defensive. “I run
a very successful farming operation. The English farms have become
a byword in the grain and beef industries.”

“Oh.” Whatever that meant. The only thing
Kate knew about grain and beef was that you could make bread out of
the one, and you ate the other on special occasions that were too
good for beans and potatoes and cabbage.

“I’d like to take your mother to visit my
mother. On the farm.”

Kate gaped at him. “You what?”

He spoke again, and again he sounded
slightly defensive. “I’d like to take your mother to visit the
farm. She said she enjoyed the countryside. I think the fresh air
would do her some good.”

“Yeah,” said Kate. She didn’t want her
mother deserting her to go to the blasted countryside. “It probably
would.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d consent.”

“Consent?” As if he needed her consent. All
he needed to do was ask Ma. Ma would probably love leaving the city
for the country, although Kate knew she’d miss her children.

And Kate would die.

No, no, no. Kate was stronger than that. No
matter how much her heart felt as if it were being shredded into
bloody strips.

Alex smiled and seemed to relax. “Well, I
wouldn’t make the suggestion to her if you didn’t approve of it. I
know better than to cross you, Miss Finney.”

Kate didn’t think that was funny, so she
didn’t smile. Nor did she comment.

Alex didn’t seem to notice. “I think she’d
enjoy it, and I know my mother would be happy to meet her.”

“Yeah?” Kate wasn’t. She couldn’t imagine
her own beloved mother having anything at all in common with Mrs.
Rich Lady English.

“I’m sure of it. The weather is just about
perfect this time of year, and the apricots and peaches are
beginning to bear.”

“Are they?” So what? Did he want Ma to pick
his fruit for him? “Um, I don’t think Ma’s in any condition to do
any work on a farm, Mr. English.”

He blinked at her. “Beg pardon?”

Nuts. She’d gone and done it again.
“Nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing, though, as she recognized
when Alex began looking sort of thundery. “Miss Finney, if you
think I’m inviting your mother to visit my farm because—”

“No!” She held a hand out. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t think that. Not really. It’s only . . .” Blast. It was only
what? Opting for honesty because she didn’t know how else to put
it, Kate blurted out, “It’s only that I can’t imagine anybody
wanting us Finneys visiting unless they need something done that we
could do.” There. Let him chew on that one. This was so
embarrassing.

“I see.” He still looked angry. What a
surprise.

She jumped when he leaned over and poked the
table in front of her with his forefinger. “For your information,
Miss Finney, neither my mother nor I are snobs, as you obviously
believe us to be. And my sister, who is fourteen years old, would
love to have company. She’s bored to flinders on the farm.”

“Really?” Kate smiled when she thought about
Alex English having an adolescent sister. She couldn’t feature him
as anybody’s brother. “Kids that age can be a pain.”

His eyes went kind of squinty. “Were you?
When you were that age, I mean. Were you a pain?”

Heck, no, she hadn’t been a pain. She’d been
too busy going to school, working, and trying to keep Ma out of her
father’s way. “Probably.” She didn’t meet his gaze. Fortunately,
the waiter had refilled her coffee cup—and if that wasn’t a fancy
custom, Kate didn’t know what was—so she could take a sip of coffee
to occupy herself.

Alex stared at her for a moment before he
said, “Hmmm.”

Hadn’t anybody ever told this man that it
was impolite to stare? Kate was about to inform him of this
pertinent fact of life when he transferred his scrutiny to his own
coffee cup. Kate sagged inside with relief. “At any rate, I wanted
to ask you before I proposed the trip to your mother. I’ll have to
consult with the doctors first, of course, in order to ascertain if
she’s strong enough to travel.”

“She’s not very strong,” Kate admitted. She
wanted to say that she didn’t want her mother traveling anywhere
without her, too, but was afraid Alex would think she was angling
for an invitation to his stupid farm for herself. Now that the
shock of his proposal was wearing off, she had to admit, if only to
herself, that the notion of spending some quiet time in the country
appealed to her frazzled soul. She’d never say so to Alex.

“Do you think she’d be willing to travel that
far?”

Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. She doesn’t
like to be away from us kids very much.”

“Oh, well, the invitation is extended to you
and Bill, too. And your other brother, of course. I’m sorry. I
guess I didn’t mention that before.”

“No. You didn’t.” Kate told her heart to
stop leaping around and doing stupid things. It was only an
invitation to visit a farm, for pity’s sake.

“So, what do you think? I think a change of
scenery, especially to the countryside, where the air is fresh and
everything’s green and pretty, might be beneficial to a sick woman.
I was hoping you’d think so, too.”

Kate studied Alex and his proposition for
several moments, wondering what could possibly be wrong with it. On
the surface, Alex didn’t appear to be the kind of gent who would
use underhanded tactics to get a woman to succumb to his charms. He
was too stuffy and proper for that and anyhow, he didn’t seem
inclined to view Kate as appealing as a woman. Then again, Kate
absolutely couldn’t fathom why he should be going to such trouble
for her family. Heck, her own father didn’t give a rap about his
wife and kids; why should Alex English care? They were almost
perfect strangers.

Before she’d managed to wrestle all of her
convoluted thoughts into some sort of ordered conclusion, her mouth
spoke the words she hadn’t agreed to yet. “Sure. I think Ma would
enjoy it.”

Darn. What was the matter with her,
anyhow?

But Alex didn’t know
anything about her inner turmoil. Rather, a smile lit his face,
making Kate gasp slightly. He was a
very
good looking man when he wasn’t
hollering at her or in a tizzy about something.

“Wonderful! I’m so glad you agree with me.
I’ll talk to your mother’s doctors this afternoon.”

“Swell.” Kate wasn’t sure what she’d gotten
herself in to, but she feared the worst. Then again, what could
happen on a farm with Alex’s mother and her own mother there to
chaperone?

“Are you ready to tackle telling fortunes
now, Miss Finney?” He pulled out the pretty gold watch he carried
and glanced at it. Kate would love to get a watch like that for
Billy. He’d love it. “We haven’t used up too much of your work
time.”

“Sure.” She folded her napkin and set it
beside her empty plate. It was funny, but now that she’d finished,
she sort of hated leaving the restaurant. The meal hadn’t been
entirely peaceful, but it had been delicious, and she’d felt sort
of . . . at ease or something. She didn’t know why, but she wasn’t
keen about walking away from Alex and his money and facing her
world again. Alex’s world was so much less stressful than
Kate’s.

It was all money, she told herself. Money
could buy peace and quiet, even if it couldn’t buy happiness. All
things considered, Kate decided she’d settle for peace, quiet, and
plenty. Happiness would probably take care of itself after
that.

“Say, Miss Finney,” said Alex said as he
politely held her chair. “Why don’t I meet you outside the Egyptian
Pavilion after you dance this evening. I’ll tell you what the
doctors say about a visit to the country for your mother, and drive
you to the hospital. We can talk about it then. I’ll ask your
mother how she feels about a trip to the countryside after I chat
with her doctors.”

Kate’s trouble-sensing antennae quivered.
She told them not to be stupid. “Sure. That would be fine.” She
should probably thank him, but she’d wait until later when she was
better able to judge whether or not he deserved her thanks. In
Kate’s world, it was sometimes difficult to tell.

She felt ever so much better when she went
back to Madame Esmeralda’s Fortune Telling Booth. Madame looked up
from the palm she was reading when Alex opened the door for Kate.
Kate didn’t like the grin that spread over Madame’s face when she
entered the booth, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

“I’ll see you this evening, Miss Finney.”

Kate took the hand Alex held out and shook
it. “Right,” she said. “This evening.”

She shot Madame a scowl as she hung up her
jacket and scooted to the back of the booth to don her Gypsy paint
and garb, feeling as if she’d somehow been manipulated into doing
Alex English’s will and not quite understanding how it had
happened.

Chapter Seven

Alex sent a telegram to his mother that
afternoon after he left Mrs. Finney’s hospital room and before he
hopped into his conveniently waiting carriage and headed back to
the Exposition.

Mrs. Finney had been stunned by his
invitation, but she’d also been pleased. He remembered how she’d
held onto his hand and whispered, “Oh, Mr. English, Katie needs to
get out of the city. This is so kind of you.”

It was, rather, and Alex was proud of
himself for thinking of it. Not that he’d done it for Kate’s sake.
He’d offered them his family farm because he thought Mrs. Finney
needed some fresh air. His heart twisted when he thought about how
this would probably be the last look she ever got of the
countryside she loved so well.

But aside from the inescapable problem of
human mortality, he was feeling fine. Absolutely fine. “‘Daisy,
Daisy, give me your answer, do. I’m half crazy, all for the love
of—’”

He quit singing abruptly as he approached
the Egyptian Pavilion and saw the crowd gathered there. His smile
faded. Dash it, there were always dozens of men hanging about
outside the back door of the Pavilion. Alex knew why they were
there, too, and their motivations infuriated him. They all thought
Kate Finney was a strumpet who’d be delighted to warm their beds
for an appropriate sum of money or gifts of jewelry and so forth.
If the notion didn’t gall him so much, he might have laughed.

They didn’t know Kate Finney or they
wouldn’t entertain the notion of Kate succumbing to such lures. Not
for any longer than it took her to set them straight, at any
rate.

Alex squinted into the gathering gloom of
night, trying to make out the individuals who composed the
masculine cluster at the door. Something was going on there, but he
couldn’t tell what. Unsettled, he quickened his pace. As he neared
the Pavilion, he heard voices.

“Aw, come on, girlie. Just one little drink.
I’ll treat you real fine.”

“Get out of my way, you drunken lout!”
Kate’s voice; and it sounded to Alex as if she were in one of her
better and more serious rages.

“Who you calling a drunken lout, girlie?”
The slightly slurred voice was the same as Alex had heard
before.

“You, you lousy bum!”

“Bum? You’re pretty mouthy, you know that,
girlie?”

“Yeah. I know it.” Kate sounded grim.

A yelp of pain. A surge of movement among
the men surrounding the Pavilion’s back exit. A shout.

Kate’s voice again. “Try it again, and I’ll
do the same thing, you stinking pig!”

That was enough for Alex. He broke into a
run.

The group of men seemed to be heaving
erratically when he burst through the outer layer of humanity,
grabbing shoulders and arms and flinging bodies hither and yon.
Yowls from his victims barely registered in Alex’s brain, which was
occupied with terror on Kate’s behalf. He was going to kill whoever
that drunken fiend was who’d been harassing her, by Gad, or know
the reason why. By the time he got to Kate, a large space had
opened up around him, and men stood aside, gaping and rubbing spots
on their bodies that Alex had manhandled.

He screeched to a halt, his chest heaving
and his fists clenched. They ached to connect with a hard object,
preferably the jaw of the man who’d been annoying Kate. “Kate!”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Alex’s
brain cataloged the image of Kate, standing over a man lying on the
ground, her eyes blazing, her hair tumbling from under her small,
sober-hued hat. For perhaps a heartbeat, he thought about knights
and witches, lances, maces, and pots of bubbling brew. Then Kate
moved.