Bicycle Built for Two (34 page)

“Thank you, Alex. You’re truly a good man.”
She reached up, cupped his cheek in her hand, and Alex wanted to
purr like one of Mary Jo’s stupid barn cats. He watched her turn
and go to her room, and had to shake himself out of a Kate-induced
trance.

Mrs. Finney had awakened by this time,
although she hadn’t tried to sit up. She looked even sicker today
than she had the day before. Alex wouldn’t have thought such a
thing possible until he saw her. Her head barely turned on her
pillow and her eyes, sunken and watery, belied the smile she forced
for his benefit. It hurt his heart to know how much she had to
struggle for the least little amenity—like smiling at somebody in
the morning.

To counteract her misery and his own
knowledge of her perilous condition, Alex put a bounce in his step
and a broad smile on his face. He felt akin to Kate and decided
that was appropriate. “How’s Mrs. Finney this morning?”

Rather than speak—Alex presumed she didn’t
dare speak for fear she’d precipitate a coughing fit—she nodded her
head about an eighth of an inch.

“I’ve got a surprise for your daughter,” he
informed her, keeping his tone jolly. “After breakfast, you and
Mother can sit on the front porch and see it, too.” He winked.
“Mary Jo will be jealous.”

She still didn’t talk to him, and he guessed
he’d have to get serious at last. “Do you need some medicine, Mrs.
Finney? Can I help you sit up?”

She nodded twice, from which Alex guessed
both suggestions would be helpful to her. “I’ll pour you out some
tonic,” he muttered, heading to the night table. She must be
wretchedly weak if she couldn’t even reach that far. “Let me put my
arm at your back.”

“Thank you.” The words were a mere breath of
air.

His smile broadened, although he felt like
shrieking imprecations to the heavens about the unfairness of life.
“Here we go.” As gently as gently could be, Alex lifted her. She
didn’t weigh more than ninety pounds. Probably less. His heart
cramped again when the movement provoked a spasm of coughing.

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. He hated
this.

“Here. Use this, Mrs. Finney.” He whipped
the clean handkerchief from his jacket pocket and pressed it into
her hand.

Then he politely turned away and poured a
dose of medicine into the glass he’d brought up the night before.
He couldn’t stand to watch the poor woman cough like that, and he
knew the bloody phlegm she produced embarrassed her. As if any of
this were her fault.

“Ma!”

Alex started when Kate barreled into the
room. He whirled around, miraculously not spilling a drop of the
precious tonic. “Good Gad, Kate, you scared the life out of
me.”

“Sorry.” She didn’t even look at him as she
raced to her mother. “Take it easy, Ma. Let me help you.”

Feeling superfluous and ignored and knowing
he was being an ass, Alex swallowed his emotions. “I poured out a
dose of her medicine.”

“Thanks.” Without even looking, Kate held
out her hand. Alex put the glass into it and told himself this was
her mother and it was her right to dose her. He watched as Kate
held her mother tight and tilted the glass to her blue lips.

Blue lips? Good Gad, they were. Mrs.
Finney’s lips had taken on an unhealthy bluish cast. What did that
mean? Alex thought he knew, and decided Dr. Conners was going to
pay the sick woman a visit this afternoon if Alex had to kidnap him
and bear him to the English farm bound and gagged. Not that Dr.
Conners was a recalcitrant sort of man, but Alex didn’t plan to
accept any excuses. If any woman happened to go into labor during
the time Mrs. Finney needed the good doctor, she could just do so
on her own.

“Can you swallow it, Ma?”

Mrs. Finney didn’t even try to nod this
time. Alex heard her swallow, then gasp for breath. He shut his
eyes against the terrible sight and sound.

“That’s the way. Take another little
sip.”

How did Kate do that? How
could she sound so encouraging and cheerful as her mother lay
there, dying in her arms. Alex’s respect for Kate Finney almost
matched his love for her. She was so strong. And so
good
. He could no longer
even conceive of how badly he’d misjudged her at first. What a
total idiot he’d been.

Kate shooed him out of the room after that.
“I’ve got to help Ma get dressed, Alex.”

“Would you like me to bring a tray up to you,
Mrs. Finney?”

Still unable to talk, she shook her
head.

Kate frowned at her mother. “Are you sure,
Ma? Can you walk downstairs?”

This time she nodded. “In a minute.”

Alex held his own breath as she struggled for
hers, as if she wanted to say something more.

Kate forestalled her by turning to Alex.
“I’ll bring her down in a few minutes.”

“Good. I’ll tell Louise and Mrs. Gossett to
expect a ravening horde.”

She laughed. “You do that.”

Mrs. Finney’s eyes actually managed to
twinkle, and Alex descended the staircase in his home feeling like
some sort of hero.

Chapter Sixteen

Kate gaped at the bicycle Alex was holding
upright at the foot of the porch steps. “It’s a bicycle built for
two! Just like in the song!”

Mrs. English laughed. Mrs. Finney tried to.
Alex said, “Brilliant, Kate. You got it on the first try.”

“Smart aleck,” she muttered, feeling
silly.

“That’s smart Alex, if you please. Hope
on.”

“Hop on?” She goggled at him this time. “I
can’t ride a bicycle!”

“It’s not difficult, especially with me doing
all the work.”

Feeling small and foolish, Kate clasped her
hands behind her back. “I don’t know, Alex . . .”

“My husband and I rode it, Kate.” Mrs.
English looked up from her embroidery.

“They sure did,” agreed Mary Jo. “And if Ma
could learn how to ride a bike, anybody can.”

Kate cringed inwardly at this bit of
non-diplomacy, but Mrs. English only laughed and said, “True,
true.”

“Go on, Kate,” urged Mrs. Finney. “I’ve
always wanted to see one of those tandem bicycles in action.”

It had taken her mother a long time to
recover from her troubled night. Kate wondered if that meant Hazel
Finney’s time on this earth was nearing its end. Probably.

That being the case, and as little as Kate
liked feeling ridiculous, she supposed it wouldn’t kill her to give
the bicycle built for two a whirl. If it would make Ma happy, her
own embarrassment would be worth it. “Well . . . All right.” She
heaved a huge, dramatic sigh. “If I fall off and break a leg, Alex
English, you’re going to have to fill in for Little Egypt for
me.”

Mary Jo shrieked with hilarity. Alex gave
his sister a mock-ferocious scowl. “I’ll send my sister to do
it.”

Like heck. Alex would shoot somebody before
he’d allow his baby sister to appear in Kate’s Egyptian costume,
and everybody knew it. He took care of his family, unlike some men
Kate knew. “I’ll bet,” she grumbled. But she flung her leg over the
body of the bicycle. “I hope my skirt doesn’t get caught in the
spokes.”

“It won’t.” Alex’s voice fairly reeked with
confidence.

Kate wasn’t so sure about that, and she
didn’t much want to sacrifice this skirt, which was the same one
she’d worn yesterday and which she’d made by hand, to the
cause.

“Hold onto the handlebars,” Alex
commanded.

“Right. Handlebars.” Kate knew what those
were, because she’d seen lots of people ride bicycles and had
gleaned the pertinent information. She’d never done so herself,
since nobody in the family owned a bicycle. She’d never thought
she’d missed much, transportation in Chicago being so easy to come
by.

Without another word, Alex pushed off and
started peddling. Shocked, Kate uttered a brief shout of alarm and
held on tighter. When she realized her feet were going up and down
and around and around, she nearly lost her footing.

“Pedal!” Alex hollered.

The wind hit her face at the same time his
yell hit her ears. “How?” she screamed back, terrified.

“Just do it!”

He was laughing at her. Kate would have hit
him, except that she needed both hands to keep herself upright. How
humiliating it would be to tumble off the bicycle and end up with
her skirt over her head.

“Yay, Kate!”

That had come from Mary Jo who, Kate
assumed, was still on the porch. She didn’t dare turn her head to
look for fear she’d unbalance the whole act.

“That’s the way!” Alex cried.

It was? But she wasn’t doing anything.
Daring hugely, Kate glanced down at her feet. By gum, they were
going around on the pedals. As an experiment, she exerted a little
pressure. The bicycle sped up and she shrieked again.

“Good!” shouted Alex. “That’s the way!”

And it was. Without understanding exactly
how, Kate soon discovered herself peddling away behind Alex,
laughing and screaming with joy. She’d never done anything so
exhilarating—except for last night, but that was personal and not
to be shared. When she felt secure enough to glance over to the
porch, she saw that both Mrs. English and her own mother were
laughing, Mrs. English heartily, her mother more or less just
smiling. But Kate knew a laugh when she saw it, and she shouted out
again with pure glee.

They rode for almost an hour, and Kate
couldn’t remember ever having so much fun. And her mother had been
able to share it with her. She knew she’d never be able to express
enough gratitude to Alex and the rest of his family for giving Mrs.
Finney this opportunity. And Kate. Kate wouldn’t have missed it for
worlds.

“We’re good at this, Kate,” Alex hollered
back over his shoulder.

Kate, her hair having fallen out of its pins
and now streaming in the wind the two of them were creating, and
her skirts frothing up around her knees, had to agree. “We got the
rhythm going, for a fact.”

“Can I take a turn?” Mary Jo had to shout to
be heard over the laughter of the two mothers and the whoops from
the two cyclists.

“Nuts,” said Alex.

Kate was more gracious. “Absolutely! I’m
exhausted.” She poked Alex on the shoulder blade when he didn’t
seem inclined to stop peddling. “I mean it, Alex. I’m not used to
this kind of exercise.”

“Nuts,” Alex said again. “You dance for a
living. You’re in great shape. I know it for a fact.”

Kate poked him again when he waggled his
eyebrows at her from over his shoulder. “Stop that!”

Alex heaved a huge sigh of mock distress.
“Oh, very well. If I must.”

Kate scrambled down from the bicycle and
staggered to the porch. “Whew!” She winked at Mary Jo. “Good luck,
kid. Your brother’s a slave driver.”

Mary Jo giggled as she made a move toward
the bicycle, then stopped and turned back to Kate. “I’m so glad you
visited us this weekend, Kate. I’d never have gotten to ride this
thing if you hadn’t come.”

With another laugh, Kate flopped down next
to her mother on the chair Mary Jo had vacated. “Glad to help.” She
glanced at Mrs. Finney. Her heart lurched when the harsh spring
sunlight revealed the extent of her mother’s ill health. Not only
was she pale and drawn, but she looked to Kate as if she were only
hanging onto this life by sheer effort of will. Kate got the
impression her mother was breathing for Kate’s benefit alone; that
she’d lost all interest in living for herself. Reaching over to pat
her mother’s thin, dry hand, she said, “You all right, Ma?”

Mrs. Finney turned her hand over and
squeezed Kate’s. “I’m fine, Katie. Just fine. This has been the
best weekend of my life.”

“I’m glad, Ma.”

When her mother’s attention veered to the
brother and sister on the bicycle, one of whom was squealing like a
piglet and the other of whom was roaring like a lion and bellowing
at his sister to shut up and pedal, and both of whom were being
pursued by a stupid black-and-white dog that couldn’t hunt, Kate
passed her other hand over her eyes to make sure none of her tears
would leak out and make Ma feel bad.

# # #

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Will you stop asking
me that, Kate? For God’s sake, my mother and your mother have
become practically like sisters during the past two days. Her
staying here will be good for them both. Ma needs an interest in
life besides her children, and since Mary Jo’s going to Chicago
with us, this is the perfect answer.”

Kate knew it. But she didn’t want to leave
Ma here. She was afraid she’d never see her alive again. And what
about Billy and Walter? Oh, God, she didn’t even want to think
about what her brothers would say to her when they found out Kate
had left Ma on Alex’s farm. Would they think she had abandoned Ma
to the mercy of strangers?

On the other hand, Kate’s father had finally
managed to find out where she and Ma lived. When he got out of
jail—which might already have happened, given the law’s
indifference to husbands beating up on their wives—her mother would
no longer be safe at Kate’s flat. And Ma would be much happier here
on the farm, where she could watch the birds fly and the squirrels
chatter and the cows moo, than she’d be in that ghastly white
hospital room. “I know,” she muttered.

“Then stop fighting me about it.”

Kate heaved an aggrieved sigh. “You must
know I’m only worried about Ma, Alex. I’m not trying to be
difficult.”

“You don’t have to try,” he grumbled,
flinging his sister’s wicker bag into the boot of the carriage.
“Being difficult comes naturally to Kate Finney.”

“That’s not fair.”

She saw Alex’s teeth clench as he grimaced
and picked up another piece of luggage. “Nothing’s fair. If you
haven’t figured that out by this time, you’ve been living life with
your eyes closed.”

Peeved, she snapped, “How
come you’re so grumpy today, anyhow?
I’m
the one who’s going to be late
to work.”