Bicycle Built for Two

by Duncan, Alice

  “That’s not what I meant. What I meant was that you should stay with her and not go back to Chicago. You can’t go back to the city and leave her here, and you can’t take her back to Chicago with you. The trip might— It might be bad for her health.” He’d been going to say that the trip might kill her, but good sense kicked him in the head and he modified the statement before it left his lips.

  Kate bowed her head. “I can’t let you take over my responsibilities, Alex.”

  Dash it, there she went again. With rather more force than was necessary, Alex hauled another chair up next to Kate’s. Fortunately, a thick braided rug, pieced together by his grandmother more than forty years before, prevented the chair legs from clunking against the wood floor. He placed a hand on her arm, squeezing slightly so she wouldn’t try to escape before he’d said his piece. “You’re going to marry me, Kate Finney, and I’m going to take care of your mother and you from now on.”

  That caught her attention. Her head jerked up so fast, Alex was surprised he didn’t hear her neck snap. “What?” Fortunately for her mother and Alex, a frog had taken up residence in Kate’s throat, so the word didn’t come out as a shout.

  “You heard me.”

  She blinked at him, as if she were in a thick mist. “I— I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think what? You don’t think you heard me, or you don’t think you’re going to marry me?”

  After a significant pause, Kate muttered, “Both.”

  He was having none of that. “You heard me, and you are going to marry me. You have no choice. I won’t allow you another choice.”

  “Alex . . .”

  “No arguments, Kate. You need me. I want to help you. You’re going to marry me. I’ll help your mother and your brothers and you, and my mother will be ecstatic. She thinks you’re a peach.”

  “She doesn’t know me.”

  He grinned. “True, but I won’t tell her.”

  Her eyes narrowed and her face began to take on its customary rebellious cast. Alex braced himself. This was one argument he didn’t plan to lose.

  “I can’t marry you, Alex.”

  “Why not?”

  Again, she stared at him for several seconds before answering. Then she spoke judiciously. It was the first time he’d ever heard her be judicious. “Marriage is a lifetime commitment. It’s not something to be taken lightly.”

  “Marriage to me would mean a lifetime of comfort for you.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about if you think marriage is comfortable for a woman, even if you’re rich.” Her tone was as dry as her mother’s flesh.

  He felt his lips tighten and endeavored to relax them. He didn’t appreciate her sarcasm under these circumstances. “Dash it, Kate, you know very well that I can offer you a better life than the one you have. And I’ve already told you I’ll help your mother and your brothers, too.”

  “Marriage is about more than helping people, Alex.” She’d adopted a lecturing tone, as if she were trying to impart a lesson to a slow student.

  “Of course, but it encompasses helping each other, too.”

  Although he couldn’t account for it, she seemed to be getting angry. Now why, he wondered, should a proposal of marriage from a personable and well-to-do young man create a mood of anger in a young woman who needed help? He knew the answer to that one. It was because this was no ordinary young woman. This was Kate Finney, a female who carried a chip on her shoulder the size of Gibraltar and who was about as irrational and outrageous as a young woman could get. It was good luck for him, he supposed, that they were in her mother’s sickroom, or she’d probably have started hollering at him by this time.

  “Marriages are supposed to happen between people who have affection for one another, Alex. And you can’t very well say you have any affection for me.”

  “That’s not true, Kate. I have a good deal of affection for you.”

  She eyed him skeptically, which irked him.

  “I do,” he declared. He didn’t dare say he loved her. While it was true—or he thought it was—he was absolutely positive she wouldn’t believe him. He didn’t quite believe it himself.

  “Well,” said she, “I still won’t marry you. I guess it would be best if Ma stayed here, but I won’t stay with her. I need to get back to Chicago and my jobs. I’ve never depended on anyone else in my life, and I don’t intend to start now. I—” She sucked in air thick with her mother’s illness and her own despair. “I can’t.”

  “Nonsense. I’m offering you a much better life than you can achieve on your own, and you know it.”

  She eyed him as if she didn’t know what to make of him, and Alex thought suddenly that she might have a point. He wasn’t altogether sure what to make of himself, actually. Although her hesitation aggravated him, it did serve to point out to him, as if he need another pointer, that marriage to Kate Finney could easily turn out to be a mighty uncomfortable proposition.

  He hadn’t intended to take no for an answer, but her refusal, while irritating, had also served to shake his confidence. All of the obstacles to a happy union between them rose up in his mind’s eye. He stood suddenly. “I want you to think about it, Kate. Seriously.” She still looked skeptical, so he growled, “I mean it, Kate.”

  “Right.” She saw him bridle and hastened to add, “I mean, I will, Alex. I will. Honest.”

  He stood looming over her for another minute or so, but she didn’t give any hint that she aimed to change her mind any time soon. Again Alex wondered if this might not be a lucky escape for him. He shook his head hard, not liking the implications of that thought. After hovering for long enough to make himself nervous, although his tall presence didn’t seem to trouble Kate, he turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

  Kate stared after him, not sure if she was awake or asleep. She feared she was asleep, since she couldn’t honestly believe Alex English would have proposed to her in real life. If that could be considered a proposal.

  “Nuts,” she muttered. It had been a proposal, but it wasn’t the type Kate had ever contemplated receiving in the rare moments when she allowed herself to daydream. The proposals that had danced in her head, before she’d learned better, had included declarations of undying love and passion and threats of suicide if the offers were refused. Not once had she entertained the possibility of a proposal prompted by pity. She hated being pitied.

  But she loved Alex English.

  Feeling overwhelmed, depressed, and bereft, Kate buried her face in her hands and wished it were she who was dying, and not her mother. She was sick of life. Besides, her mother was worth a dozen of herself. Why couldn’t God take her instead of Ma? If there was such a thing as God. Kate grimaced when she thought about what the nuns would say to her if she voiced that thought aloud.

  Before she could drive herself into a full-fledged session of self-pity and loathing, Kate fell asleep in her chair. It was a comfortable chair, but it wasn’t intended to replace a bed. She awoke with a jerk when her body slipped sideways and she almost ended up on the floor. After a huge yawn, Kate inspected her mother closely.

  Mrs. Finney still slept. Her breath came hard. Kate heard the gurgle in her lungs, and wished she were a weaker person and could break down and cry whenever she felt like it. She felt like it now.

  But there would be lots of time for tears after Ma was gone. Kate decided she might as well go to her own room and sleep for awhile. She’d had enough experience with Ma’s illness to judge that her mother probably—there were no guarantees with consumption—wouldn’t wake up before morning. Kate had propped pillows behind her back, giving the fluids clogging her lungs less of a chance to accumulate and suffocate her.

  She tiptoed across the room, opened the door, unsqueakable since the hinges were so well oiled by Louise, and bumped smack into Alex. His arms went around her instantly, preventing her from bouncing off his chest and falling down. She peered up at him. “Where’d you come from
?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “How come?”

  “I just wanted to be here if your mother needed help.”

  He was so darned nice. In spite of herself, knowing she shouldn’t, Kate sighed and rested her head against his chest. She felt so good in his arms. Protected. Cared for. She loved him so much. If he loved her, too, she’d agree to marry him in a second, in spite of the trouble she’d surely cause him. Trouble seemed to follow her around like a stray dog. Kate knew Alex didn’t deserve to have to deal with her problems. He was too good for the likes of her.

  “I was almost asleep on my feet,” he confessed. She heard the smile in his voice. “But I was pretty sure you’d come out eventually.”

  “You were right.”

  “So, have you thought about my proposal?”

  She didn’t want to think about his proposal. She wanted to pretend that everything could be right for once. Accepting his proposal wouldn’t be right. It would be cruel to a man who’d been nicer to her than anyone else in the world, including all the nuns and priests she’d ever known.

  He prodded her. “Kate?”

  She sighed again and tried to draw away from him, but he didn’t let her go. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ve thought about it.”

  “And?”

  “And I can’t marry you, Alex. Thanks a lot, but— I just can’t, is all.”

  “Nonsense. Certainly, you can. You won’t, is what you mean.”

  “Nuts.” She was going to cry in another second or two. And if she did that, she knew she’d fall apart completely. She might even accept his proposal, thereby ruining his life. Kate couldn’t stand that.

  Therefore, because she loved him so much, wanted so much to be his wife, and knew that marrying him would be the worst thing she could do to repay his kindness, she reached up with her arms, snaked them around his neck, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him with all the love she had in her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alex responded to her boldness as Kate had hoped he would: he misunderstood her intentions completely. “God, Kate, I’m so happy,” he murmured into her tumbling hair. “I knew you’d see reason eventually.”

  She made a soft, encouraging noise as he deepened the kiss. She was going to reward him for his many kindnesses to her and her family in the only way she could. She wouldn’t wreck his life by marrying him, but she could give him her body. The good Lord knew, it seemed to be in demand, her body. Other men wanted it. She had reason to believe Alex did, too.

  Kate was no starry-eyed innocent who couldn’t tell when a man was excited. She’d remained a virgin because she possessed a strong mind, a logical brain, and the intelligence to know that throwing away her virginity was the sure path to ruin where she came from. If there was anything she didn’t need more than she didn’t need poverty, it was a flock of little bastard children to rear. Until she met Alex, she’d never met a man who wanted anything from her but sex. The men in her life, with very few exceptions including her brothers, didn’t stick around to support the leavings of their lust. Kate’s brothers had honor, but few of their contemporaries did.

  A low rumble in Alex’s chest preceded his next words. Kate loved his voice. It was deep and melodious, unlike most of the other male voices in her life. The male voices in her life were hard, desperate, and resonated with anxiety, too little money, and too much pain. Or they were loud, malicious, drunken shouts.

  “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you,” Alex admitted.

  It didn’t come as a complete surprise to Kate, but she was pleased to know it. “I want you, too, Alex.”

  He held her so hard, her ribs ached, and she laughed softly. “You’re squishing me, Alex.”

  “Sorry.” He laughed, too, and eased up on her ribs.

  Kate let her arms slide down his and took his hand. “Come with me, Alex.” She tugged lightly, and he obeyed.

  He drew back when she opened her door. “Kate . . .”

  “I want this, Alex.” She turned and looked him in the eye. His eyes had gone dark with passion and soft with—well, Kate guessed it was affection. That was nice. It pleased her to know that Alex English, a man whom at first she’d believed to be a hard-hearted stuffed shirt, had turned out to be so open to life that he actually liked her in spite of herself. She knew good and well that she hadn’t given him much reason to care about her. Not at first.

  After hesitating at the door for a moment, it looked to Kate as if Alex decided something. “It will be all right,” he murmured, following after her. “We’ll be married soon.”

  That’s what he thought. Kate knew better. She didn’t let on, but led him to her bed. “You’ll have to pick me up,” she said after eyeing the bed for a moment. “I can’t climb that high.”

  “There’s a footstool,” he said, grinning, and he stooped and dragged it out from under the bed.

  “Shoot, you climb stairs to bed? Now that’s what I call class.”

  He chuckled.

  As ever, his chuckle sent warm shivers through her. She climbed the two steps and bounced on the bed. Patting the space next to her, she said, “Want to join me?”

  “More than anything.”

  That was nice. This was the biggest, scariest step Kate had ever taken in her life. It even surpassed moving out of her parents’ place and getting a flat of her own. It might lead to her absolute ruin, although she didn’t think so. If she should get pregnant as a result of this night’s work, she knew Alex would support his child. He’d probably want it to grow up on his farm. And Kate would want that, too, although it would kill her to let a child of her womb go.

  Lordy, what was she going into that possibility for? Alex knelt in front of her, surprising her into allowing her thoughts to scatter. That was a good thing.

  He took both of her hands in his. “Are you sure about this, Kate?”

  “Yes.” She spoke more firmly than she felt. Alex deserved this. So did she, actually.

  He didn’t respond, but gazed into her eyes for several seconds. She’d expected him to ask her if she was sure again, but he didn’t. Rather, he stood up and yanked at his tie. “I’ll get rid of these.” He gestured at his coat and vest.

  “All right. I guess I will, too.” That didn’t make sense, but Kate knew he understood. She started unbuttoning her shirtwaist. She’d made it herself, from fabric she’d bought from Chinese Charley. She’d also recently made her chemise and drawers, and was ever so glad she’d brought them with her this weekend. She might have brought her dingy, over-washed underwear that she’d made last year, but she’d decided even her underthings should be special this weekend.

  Alex threw his tie, vest, and jacket anywhere. He didn’t even look as he tossed them aside. “Let me help you, Kate.”

  “Gladly.” She shoved her shirtwaist down, unbuttoned her skirt, and laid both neatly over the footboard of the bed. Alex might feel free to jumble his clothes in heaps and piles, but Kate didn’t. He’d knelt before her again, and reached for her leg. She let him and saw him swallow when she placed her foot in his hands. “Want to unroll my stockings?”

  “Yes.”

  The word came out in a croak, and Kate took heart. Clearly, Alex wasn’t as composed as he wanted her to think. Perhaps he wasn’t as experienced a man of the world as she’d believed him to be. Maybe he was nervous about this step, too. Unlikely, given what Kate knew about men in Alex’s station in life.

  Then again, Alex didn’t act like any of the men who’d wanted her for a mistress. Maybe he really wasn’t like them. He’d said he wanted to marry her; maybe he did. His hand on her leg caused he thoughts to scatter again. She gasped and his hand stilled. She didn’t want it to.

  “Are you all right, Kate? Are you afraid? Do you want me to stop?”

  She sucked in air and forced herself to smile at him. “Yes, yes, and no, in order.”

  It took him a second to decipher her answer. When he did, he smiled, too. “I’ll be very gentle, Kat
e. I’m not the most experienced gent in the world, but I know what to do.”

  So much for that question. “I’m glad to know it.” She allowed her smile to broaden into a grin.

  “I’m glad you’re glad.”

  With torturous slowness, Alex untied her garter. She’d made that, too, out of a yard of satin fabric Chinese Charley had on sale because it was stained. Kate had worked around the stains and embroidered roses over the ones she couldn’t avoid. They were pretty garters. She didn’t wear them as she danced, but reserved them for church and other formal occasions. She wasn’t sure this counted, but she viewed it with reverence, so she was glad she’d tied her stockings with them this weekend.

  “These are pretty, Kate,” Alex said, holding up the first garter.

  “Thank you.” She expected him to ask her if she’d made them herself and was relieved when he didn’t. She always felt like something out of the gutter when he asked her if she’d sewn her own clothes. She knew that was unfair of her and unkind to Alex. Most women, except those who were wildly wealthy, made their own clothes. Heck, even Alex’s own sister wore hand-me-downs.

  It didn’t help. She was still ashamed of her circumstances and was grateful that he didn’t ask her if she’d made her garters. Her mind went blank when Alex kissed the inside of her thigh. Good Lord! Were men supposed to do that?

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Kate,” he said huskily. “Very beautiful. Inside and out.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice was shaking. Terrific. It would. But . . . Did he honestly think she was beautiful? Everything inside her glowed as if someone had turned on a light.

  He’d begun rolling her stocking down. Shivers of delight suffused Kate’s body. She’d thought about what it might be like to make love before, but she’d never imagined it would feel so good, mainly because she’d never envisioned herself with Alex. She whimpered in spite of herself, and Alex’s hand went still instantly. Panic-stricken, Kate blurted out, “Don’t stop!”

  He grinned, and she started breathing again.