“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 th
e 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.”
She’d expected Alex to have driven her back to Chicago yesterday evening, but he’d postponed the trip until today. After he rearranged the baggage to his satisfaction, he turned on her. “Dash it, Kate, You don’t have to go back to work at all! I can’t understand you.”
“I know you can’t.” She sucked in air and told herself not to throw a tantrum just because her heart was broken and she felt as if she were dying and she didn’t think she’d survive the day at all, much less a day of telling fortunes and dancing to squealy Egyptian music.
She hadn’t yet informed Alex that he was mistaken in assuming the two of them were destined to be wed. She aimed to delay the announcement until they were alone together. Mary Jo would be in the carriage heading to Chicago with them. Kate really didn’t want a witness to what she knew would be a huge fight between herself and Alex, especially since she had a hunch Mary Jo wouldn’t understand Kate’s position on the matter. “But I need to explain everything to Madame. And they’re depending on me at the Egyptian Pavilion, too. It wouldn’t be fair to them if I just didn’t show up again. I thought you were such a stickler for principles.”
“Huh.” He heaved the last piece of luggage into the boot and dusted off his hands. When he turned this time, he placed his hands on her shoulders and grinned down at her. Kate nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. She loved him so much. “Kate, my darling, you’re right and I’m wrong. There. Does that make you feel better?”
“Yes.” She swallowed so as not to sob aloud.
“Good.” He hugged her hard. Kate hoped nobody was watching. “You’re absolutely correct in that you ought to inform your employers that your circumstances are about to change. I’m sorry I urged you to do neglect a responsibility.”
“That’s okay,” she mumbled, struggling to free herself.
With a loud exhalation of breath, Alex let her go. “Let’s see if Mary Jo is ready to set out for town. If she’s still dithering, I may just leave her behind.”
“You’d never be so cruel to your sister.” Kate smacked him on the arm on the off chance that if she acted playful, she’d feel playful. It didn’t work, but Alex misinterpreted her mood, so the gesture worked out all right anyway.
“I don’t know about that. Mary Jo can be a pain in the neck sometimes.”
He grabbed her hand. Kate didn’t resist because she wanted to experience as many of these tokens of his affection as she could before she delivered the news. She knew he felt obliged to marry her now that they’d be intimate, but she also knew that if he’d only think about it he’d agree that she’d make the worst possible wife for him. He needed some high-society lady who understood his station in life, not a worm like her, who’d have to learn how to be a lady. “You promised her you’d take her to the fair,” Kate reminded him, trying her best to sound pious.
“I know it.” He heaved a melodramatic sigh. “And I never go back on my word.”
“It’s a good thing, or I might have to sic one of those big Egyptians on you.”
They were both laughing when they trotted up the porch stairs and entered the house. The entry way was abustle with activity. Kate saw her mother in the wheeled chair Alex had either rented or bought for her, laughing along with Mrs. English, Mrs. Gossett, and Louise as Mary Jo dashed here and there, dropping things, picking them up, trying to straighten her hat, losing her hat pins, and generally behaving like an addle-pated adolescent.
Alex released Kate’s hand, put his fists on his hips, and frowned at his sister. “For heaven’s sake, Mary Jo. Aren’t you ready yet?”
Mary Jo yanked on a glove, stabbed a pin into her hat so hard that Kate winced in sympathy, and skidded to a stop before her brother. “Yes!” She slapped a hand over her heart and panted.
Kate laughed, although she didn’t feel like it. She’d surveyed her mother’s face during the last act of Mary Jo’s show, and she didn’t like what she saw. She was afraid—terribly afraid—that if she left now, she’d never see Ma again in this lifetime. And, since Kate wasn’t sure a hereafter even existed, much less that she herself was destined to go there since she considered herself a less than stellar human being, she hated to leave Ma here, even with the knowledge that Ma would be better off in this lovely place with all these helpful people surrounding her than she would be in the city. Alex even managed to get the neighborhood doctor to visit the farmhouse twice a day to make sure she had everything she needed. Within reason. What she needed was good health, and nobody could restore that. And God, if He existed, didn’t seem inclined to waste his time on such as Hazel Finney.
Making her way to her mother’s chair, Kate knelt beside her. “You sure you’re going to be okay, Ma? You can come with us if you want to go back to Chicago.” To die. Naturally, she left out that part.
Hazel Finney kissed her daughter’s cheek with lips that felt like dried rose petals. “Please don’t fuss about me, Katie. You’ve done more for me than any mother should expect from a daughter. You’ve even brought me to this beautiful place and introduced me to the kindest people I’ve ever met. I’ll be fine, lovie. Please don’t worry.”
<
br /> Kate had meant to give her mother one of her usual good-humored, saucy quips. What she did do was break down. Laying her head on her mother’s lap, she sobbed, “Oh, Ma, I’m so scared.”
“Ah, Katie, Katie. I know you are, darling, but please believe me when I tell you that I’m not. I’m ready for whatever happens. And you’ve made it possible for me to spend a few of my last days in heaven—even before I get there.” She began laughing, and the laugh turned into a painful fit of coughs.
Kate felt terrible about losing her control. She fumbled for her handkerchief and brutally wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ma. Here, take this.” She handed her mother her tear-stained hankie. Mrs. Finney nodded her thanks and pressed the embroidered—by Kate’s own fingers—piece of cotton to her lips.
Sensing Alex close by, Kate lifted her head and found him gazing at the two of them, concern plain to read on his face. She tried to smile. “Sorry, Alex.”
“Don’t apologize, for God’s sake.” He knelt beside her and put one of his big, warm hands on Mrs. Finney’s shoulder. Kate knew from experience that her mother’s shoulders were skeletal, all the excess flesh having been vanquished years ago by hard work and ill health. “Will you be all right, Mrs. Finney? I’ll be happy to leave Kate here, but she insists on going back to the fair.”
When she finally caught her breath, Mrs. Finney gasped, “My Katie knows what she has to do, Alex. That’s one of the things that make her special.”
“I suppose so.”
Kate heard plenty of doubt in his voice. She knew he wasn’t doubting her code of honor; he doubted her common sense. She did, too, but she also knew that it was important, both to herself and to her mother, that she fulfill her commitments.
“I’ll be back soon, Ma. Promise.”
“I promise, too, Mrs. Finney. I’ll bring her back to you as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Alex.”
Kate wondered if she was reading more into her mother’s expression than was really there. She could have sworn some sort of silent communication was taking place between the two people she loved most on earth. She shook her head as she stood up, telling herself that she was only being fanciful. Still, Mrs. Finney clung to Alex’s hand for a long time before they finally departed the English farm and headed back to Chicago.
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