Page 37 of An Uncertain Road

Jensen’s eyebrows scrunched together as he frowned. “We haven’t done anything except drive into town on the road. What happened at Kelly’s farm?”

John sat up straighter. “You ruffians drove right through three of their fields, tore them all up. That wasn’t any accident. Someone took time to go back and forth through the crop and spin circles in it. I spoke to Hershel Kelly myself right before I came in here. He’s mighty upset.”

His companion nodded. “Has every right to be too. After last year’s harvest, we all need a good year. Now his crop’s a mess.”

Jensen’s expression mirrored Flora’s feeling that something very wrong was going on. She turned back to the two men. “I’m sorry that happened, but it wasn’t the four of us. I hate to admit it, but not everyone participating in the Glidden Tour has concern for those around them, and I apologize for that. It doesn’t mean we’re all that way, though.”

The two men stood, dropped money on the table for their food, and left the restaurant, muttering together all the while. Flora tried not to let their anger get to her, but she couldn’t forget all the things that had happened earlier in the race. Would a participant in the tour really damage a farmer’s field on purpose without regard for his livelihood?

They finished their meal, all lost in their thoughts about what they’d learned. Jensen was the first to push away from the table and stand. “Guess we better get going if we’re going to make it in the time limit today.”

Back in the car, Flora steered them out of town. A pall had settled over the Harrison Goods team. Fred and Beth were uncharacteristically quiet while Jensen didn’t even get out the map as he usually did. Recognizing they all needed a moment to think, Flora didn’t ask him to direct her, instead keeping her eyes open for the colorful confetti the tour officials used to mark turns along the route.

As the afternoon wore on, Fred and Beth dozed off in the backseat. Maybe now was a good time to try to get Jensen to share with her. Flora nudged him with her elbow and kept her voice low so she wouldn’t wake the couple. “I don’t know how they can sleep with all this bumping around.”

Jensen glanced back, and a half smile lifted one corner of his lips. “Fred could sleep anywhere as a child, so I’m not surprised. His favorite place to nap was Sunday church service, no matter how hard those pews were.”

Flora chuckled along with him, hope lifting her heart. “What about you? Did you enjoy church or sleep through it?”

“Oh, I listened well enough. I guess I got a lot out of it back then, before…well, before I realized church attendance doesn’t guarantee an easy life. My faith’s been a bit stagnant since then. But it might be time to change that.”

Flora could finally read between his words. He meant before Gregory died. She didn’t want to push, but perhaps he would someday feel free to bring it up with her. “I always spent church services wondering what life was like in private for everyone else there. Clement was a stickler for putting on a façade of being the perfect family when we were in public. I often wished I could peek inside other homes and see if they were all as miserable as we were.”

There was silence for long enough that Flora looked over at Jensen. But instead of contemplating her words or forming his response, he was leaning forward, squinting at a sign ahead of them on the road. “Flora, stop the car.”

Startled, she did as he said, pulling over to the side of the road. By the time she stopped, the cast iron sign was close enough to read clearly. Vermont – 8 miles.

“Vermont? We don’t have any stops in Vermont, do we?”

Jensen was riffling through their tour packet, finally pulling out a map and spreading it on the dashboard in front of him. “No. The route doesn’t go into Vermont at all.”

Flora’s heart sank. They’d gotten off course. It had been three hours since lunch. Had she missed a turn right away, or more recently? How long would it take to get back to their route? Why hadn’t she asked Jensen for directions instead of trying to pry into his past?

Whatever the outcome of this mistake, it was entirely her fault.

* * *

Jensen kicked himself for not paying more attention. He’d been so wrapped up in his worries that he hadn’t even bothered to glance at the map that day, relying on Flora to guide them using the route markers.

If this ended their chances of winning, it would be entirely his fault.

Flora took quick action and turned the car around in the road. “At least we only went straight and didn’t make any turns since lunch. It can’t be that difficult to find where we made the mistake. Especially now that you have the map out again.”

Remorse coursed through him. Since driving the Decauville yesterday, he’d been consumed by memories of racing. Riding alongside Gregory in the first car, one they’d built by hand in the little shed they’d claimed as their own. The day when Mr. Harrison had bought Gregory his first new car—the lightest, leanest one they could find. That car had won them many a race.

But, as always, his thoughts had turned darker. He saw Archie leering at them, taunting that they’d never beaten him and they never would. He heard the sound of shouting voices as young Sam ran toward Jensen, gasping for breath with tears coursing down his cheeks. He felt the stitch in his side when he finally reached the accident scene and saw the end of Gregory’s life for himself.

Forcing those memories back into the corner of his mind, Jensen refocused on the map in his lap. He couldn’t let that moment continue to hurt people. The Harrisons would be devastated all over again if they had to learn new facts about that day. And if Flora found out the truth of what happened with Gregory—of Jensen’s part in it—her opinion of him would be forever tainted by the way he’d abandoned his friend.

And it was starting to become very important to Jensen that she had a high opinion of him.

Fred and Beth woke as they picked up speed, with Flora driving faster than they had been earlier. Her tension was palpable. Fred scooted forward to address Jensen. “What’s going on? Did we turn around?”

“Yes. Somehow, we missed a route marker, and we’re rather far in the wrong direction.”

“I’m certain there haven’t been any turns for miles. How did I miss it?” Flora muttered, but it was loud enough that Jensen could catch most of it.

Was she blaming herself? Jensen hated for her to feel the same hard knot of frustration that was currently forming in his stomach. “Flora, I’m sure there’s an explanation. I found where we are on the map. It looks as though we turned east instead of continuing south back by where we stopped for lunch. Maybe it was the traffic. There were a lot of wagons coming and going. Or the distraction of that scene at the diner.”