Page 2 of An Uncertain Road

Expectant silence filled the hall, but she refused to return the favor of allowing him to use her given name. She was done with letting men’s behavior go unchecked while she remained agreeable and pleasant. Until Owen’s wedding was past and he was settled, Flora would try to steer clear of this man and his incorrect opinion about cars and the women who enjoyed them.

* * *

Putting aside the awkwardness of Mrs. Montfort’s silent refusal to allow the use of her given name, Jensen offered a slight bow to greet the two ladies. But inside, he was dying to find out why the younger Mrs. Montfort had been working on a car on her way there. Owen had mentioned his sister was driving her own vehicle, worrying that an accident could be the cause of her delay. It turned out he was right to worry, as Jensen had assumed. Everyday driving was far too great a risk for anyone, much less two ladies alone in an unfamiliar state. Why was he the only one who saw that Owen was a fool to have let his sister do it?

As Owen gathered the newcomers to show them rooms where they could freshen up, Jensen couldn’t help examining Owen’s beloved sister. Along with Owen’s effusive praise for her intelligence, her resourcefulness, and her kindness, Jensen had heard of her adventure-seeking ways and how her late husband had taken her along on all sorts of dangerous ventures.

From that part of the description, he’d expected the type of cloying, fortune-seeking female he was used to seeing at auto races. There had always been a few women who craved the thrill of being with a man who risked his life for fame and glory. But they’d been easy to spot, always clinging to a top racer’s arm or following one around while gushing compliments in an effort to get his attention.

Now that she was in front of him, Mrs. Montfort appeared to be the exact opposite. He got a closer look as she passed him in the narrow hall, her head barely coming up to his shoulder and the skirt of her sensible plaid suit brushing his leg.

While she was quite pretty, her air of independent confidence and easy grace added to her compelling looks. But it was the flash of temper in her eyes when she glanced up at him that intrigued Jensen. The women who followed around race car drivers didn’t usually have strong opinions about much except wanting the men to notice them. He had a feeling Mrs. Montfort was bothered by his original statement and would have expressed her thoughts if it wasn’t for her brother and the Harrisons standing right there.

Why was he disappointed that she didn’t?

After the newcomers disappeared upstairs, Jensen followed the Harrisons back into the parlor, where family and friends had gathered to celebrate the upcoming nuptials. Jensen found a spot to stand next to Mrs. Harrison’s chair, where he always preferred to be during social events. Despite her failing mental condition, she often made more sense than anyone else in society.

Having shown his guests to their rooms, Owen soon returned, pausing by Jensen and regarding him with an expression that made Jensen’s throat go dry. He’d seen that look before. Owen was thinking about the family business and planning something that meant change. “You know, Jensen, I hate to bring up work during a party, but Mr. Harrison is set to make an announcement, and I wanted you to hear it before it’s public knowledge.”

Yes, this was going to be the conversation he’d been dreading. Jensen was aware enough of his shortcomings to recognize that he’d made a mess of every position Mr. Harrison had tried to put him in at his successful sporting goods store. Jensen wasn’t cut out for managing employees, for paperwork, for dealing with indecisive customers. He was cut out for one career, but that was out of the question.

Leveling a look straight into Owen’s eyes, Jensen waited for him to come out and say what he had to say. He’d been expecting this moment since Aggie announced her engagement and Mrs. Harrison’s health further declined.

Owen shuffled from one foot to the other, then drew a breath, as if gathering his wits. “Mr. Harrison and I are meeting Monday to work out the details of me taking over for him after Aggie and I return from our honeymoon. He’s ready to retire from running the company. But I’ll have to make a strong impression on the board. I can’t continue employing someone who isn’t helping us move forward, no matter how much I like him as a person.”

Jensen tried not to let Owen see how hard he had to swallow before he could respond. “I don’t hold any hard feelings. I knew I’d run out of chances at some point.”

Owen’s face scrunched in confusion. “Then why haven’t you found another job already?”

Was there a way to answer that wouldn’t dig up long-buried, painful secrets? That wouldn’t force him to admit he was only good at working on cars, but he could never touch one again?

A commotion at the door was the most fortunate distraction he could have imagined. The Montfort ladies swept into the room with Mr. Harrison, who began introducing them to the other guests.

Owen reached out to squeeze Jensen’s shoulder. “I didn’t want you to hear that news without me letting you know personally. But there’s more Mr. Harrison has to say and it might be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

Owen joined his sister while Jensen let himself sag back against the ornate paper-covered wall.

From her seat, Mrs. Harrison reached up to slide her fingers into his. “My dear boy, I wish you didn’t have to struggle so.”

Doing his best to smile at the kind woman who’d stepped in when his mother died, Jensen nodded. “So do I.”

She cocked her head to one side, eyes far away in an expression he knew meant her mind wasn’t in the present moment. “Perhaps Gregory can help. He’s very good at running Albert’s store. He could teach you.”

Pain shot through Jensen so hard and fast that he couldn’t breathe for several heartbeats. As it always did on the rare occasions Gregory’s name came up, Jensen’s mind started playing memories of that day. As if it were happening in front of him, he saw the young errand boy, Sam Kelly, running toward him with the bad news. Twisted, torn metal at the site of the accident. Archie Franklin, Gregory’s rival in the race, smirking as he walked away unscathed.

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain his composure. Mrs. Harrison didn’t know she’d brought up old hurts. If Gregory had been there, none of this would even be a problem. He would be running the store and Jensen could follow whatever dream he wanted. Instead, Gregory was dead, and Jensen was directionless. He’d spent the last five years trying to make up for Gregory’s absence—for his part in that tragedy—by helping to make Harrison Goods a success. But he was failing. Now Owen would take the reins of Harrison Goods and Jensen would be without a job, a failure in the eyes of the people he cared for most.

And all because of one stupid, youthful mistake.

“Oh, hello. Have we met?” Mrs. Harrison raised her voice, and Jensen finally forced his eyes open to find Mrs. Montfort standing nearby. She’d changed into a form-fitting lace gown, the light pink creating a dramatic contrast with her dark hair and eyes. But those chocolate pools were narrowed now, darting back and forth between him and Mrs. Harrison. Had she caught any part of the conversation? Did she know who Gregory was?

Thankfully, she didn’t ask. A gentle smile graced her face when she turned to Mrs. Harrison. “Why yes, but only for a moment. I’m Owen’s sister, Flora.”

Mrs. Harrison brightened. “From France!”

“Yes, that’s right.” Mrs. Montfort radiated compassion and grace, and Jensen’s heart warmed toward her. Anyone who took the time to be kind to Mary Harrison was worth keeping around.

Then Mrs. Montfort glanced up and met his gaze. Her smile flattened. Was she still angry about his comment earlier? He should probably apologize, but he’d meant it. No one ought to go poking around in an engine if they didn’t know what they were doing. Lives were on the line any time an automobile was involved. Why did he need to sugar-coat that reality?