Page 1 of An Uncertain Road

CHAPTER 1

June 1905

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

“Couldn’t you make it a few more blocks?”

As useless as it might be to talk to an automobile, doing so made Flora Montfort feel better about being stranded on the side of the street. She screwed the cap back onto the radiator and stepped away from the car as smoke billowed around her, covering her driving coat and hat with a fine layer of grime.

Sending a reassuring smile to her mother-in-law, Isabelle, who waited in the car, Flora blew a loose strand of hair out of her face, determined not to smear more grease on herself if she could help it. There certainly wouldn’t be enough time to scrub it off before joining the celebration dinner for her brother and his fiancée that evening. She and Isabelle had already missed the beginning due to several wrong turns she took on the way into town, but if they hurried, they could be there for the rest. Resisting the urge to kick her smoking, hissing automobile, she chewed on her lower lip as she tried to decide what to do.

“Flora, ma chère, can it be repaired?”

From her seat in the open touring car, Isabelle fanned a plume of smoke away from her face. Stately and elegant, Isabelle Montfort possessed features and a French accent so like Flora’s late husband Henri’s that she could envision how he would have been mocking her ineptitude by now. His mother, on the other hand, looked genuinely concerned, another confirmation that helping Isabelle start a new life in America was worth the immense effort of moving back to Flora’s home country. “Of course. No need to worry.”

While the statement was technically true, Flora couldn’t make the repairs alone on the side of the road. She examined her beloved Decauville again. The car had been a gift from Henri the year before his death, and she hoped it would be part of her new independent future. If they continued the drive, she risked permanent fatal damage to the engine. But the car was still running, even if it sounded rough. She was sure it was only a few more blocks to Owen’s house. After driving from New York City almost entirely on rutted dirt roads, couldn’t the car make it a bit farther?

As she glanced at Isabelle’s furrowed brow, resolve settled over Flora. She would get them to Owen’s house. She would find a way out of the mess Henri left them in. And she would see Isabelle live out the rest of her days in comfort, as the dear woman deserved to.

Flora returned to her seat. “I don’t have the tools to make repairs here, but I think it’s cooled off enough to finish the drive. For now, let’s get to Owen’s house so we can celebrate with him and Aggie. I’ll worry about fixing the car later.”

Setting the vehicle into motion, Flora spent the next few minutes praying that the Decauville would keep running. Four blocks to go. Three blocks. Two.

After the last turn, she released a sigh of relief. The lovely home Owen had described in his letters came into view. The Italianate-style house featured a magnificent square tower and the rustic stonework Owen had told her was common in the area. A wide, curved porch welcomed visitors to sit in the shade of the large trees that lined the street. The neighborhood was picturesque, perfect for a young couple preparing to start a family before long. A burst of pride warmed Flora’s heart. Her brother was proving already that he would care for his family better than Henri ever had.

Flora found a spot along the street to park the car and helped Isabelle step out onto the ground. By the time they turned to face the house, Owen and Aggie were standing outside the open front door with an older couple flanking them. If only there had been time to freshen up before facing the people who would be Owen’s new family. As it was, Flora smoothed her hair into place the best she could.

Her reluctance dissipated the moment her younger brother dashed forward and enveloped her in a hug. “Flora, you made it! I was worried.”

Crushed against his chest, Flora smiled at the concern in his voice. He was one of the few people who had ever worried about her. “The car overheated and forced us to stop. But I’m so thankful to be here now. I’ve missed you.”

They pulled apart, and Owen greeted Isabelle as if she was his own family. Then he led them to the porch, where Aggie and the older couple waited. Owen’s grin threatened to split his face as he slid his fiancée’s arm through the crook of his. “Flora, you remember my beautiful Aggie. And these are her parents, Albert and Mary Harrison.”

Mr. and Mrs. Harrison welcomed them with as much enthusiasm as Owen had. Aggie managed to slide her arm around Flora’s waist without untangling herself from Owen’s touch, the kind of feat easily managed by those in love. She was as beautiful as Flora remembered from their first meeting almost a year ago, sporting a spotless lace gown with her hair in a stylish swirled pompadour. But she was far from snobbish, despite the family’s obvious social standing.

Aggie pulled Flora close, her perfect features glowing. “I’m so glad you’re here, Flora. Having grown up with only brothers, you have no idea how thrilled I am to have a sister now.”

Flora couldn’t help but respond with a smile. “I only had brothers, too, so we’ll learn about sisterhood together.”

Aggie giggled as Owen led her toward the door. “Let’s not leave the rest of our guests waiting, shall we?”

Inside, voices from farther down the dim hall confirmed the presence of Aggie’s extended family and friends. Another moment of reticence hit Flora. “Owen, could Isabelle and I clean up before we join the party? I’m a mess after poking around in the car on the road.”

Instead of Owen’s, a different deep voice rang through the hall. “I suppose that’s why ladies shouldn’t poke around in cars.”

Needing to see who would be so rude before even meeting her, Flora stepped around Owen. She found herself looking up at a tall man, lean muscle filling out his tweed jacket and matching vest nicely. His hazel eyes held her gaze with no hint of shame over his unsociable behavior. This man might be quite good-looking, but he was also showing a distinct lack of modern thinking. Flora couldn't stand the insinuation that cars were only for men. She’d been fighting that common opinion ever since Henri first convinced her to get behind the steering wheel. He might have had selfish reasons for teaching her to drive, but she’d proven herself more than capable, despite being a female.

Before she could sort out which retort might let this fellow know her exact feelings on the matter, Aggie swatted the man on the arm and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Jensen. Just because you hate cars doesn’t mean no one else should drive them. It’s admirable for a woman to be self-sufficient enough to get where she needs to go.”

The man didn’t miss a beat, as if they’d already had this conversation more than once. “It’s not getting where she needs to go that’s the problem. It’s getting there safely. You know as well as I do that those machines are lethal.”

Waving him off with one hand, Aggie turned back to Flora. “Please, don’t mind Jensen. He’s like another brother, complete with overprotective instincts. Let’s pretend the meeting didn’t start this way and make introductions instead. Flora, this is Mr. Jensen Gable, my father’s right-hand man. He grew up with my brothers and me, so he’s as good as family. Jensen, may I present Owen’s sister, Mrs. Flora Montfort, recently from France, and her mother-in-law, Mrs. Isabelle Montfort?”

The others all acted as if Jensen had been eccentric rather than insulting, so making an attempt to be civil was probably the best way to keep from ruining Owen’s dinner. Flora summoned the best smile she could manage. “How do you do, Mr. Gable?”

Aggie beamed as if she’d solved a national crisis and clapped her hands together. “You must call him Jensen, Flora. We’ll all be family once Owen and I are married.”

Jensen nodded when Flora looked toward him for confirmation. “It’s nice to meet you, Jensen.”