Page 42 of An Uncertain Road

“More like, you didn’t want to admit you’d done anything wrong. Archie may not be the nicest person, but at least he was willing to tell me the part you played in Gregory’s death. You always said Gregory was your best friend. Well, that’s hard to believe when you would tarnish his memory with half-truths.”

With that, Fred turned and marched from the dining room. Jensen felt every eye on him, even when Beth stood and rushed after her husband, her face white with shock. The last thing anyone needed was for him to come face-to-face with Fred again right now, so Jensen sank back into his chair. As awful as being in this room was, it was the safest place for the moment.

He hung his head, refusing to look up to see if Archie was still watching him until the room returned to a somewhat more subdued level of conversation. Finally, he peeked at the doorway. Blessedly empty. Then he glanced across the table at Flora, prepared for anything except the compassionate, determined face he found watching him.

CHAPTER 19

The anguish on Jensen’s face tore at Flora’s heart.

It had been devastating to watch Fred confront Jensen in such obvious pain. She could only imagine how much worse it felt to be Jensen, knowing what Fred had been referring to. And it was clear that he knew exactly what Fred had learned. There was guilt etched in every line of his body.

Keeping her voice firm while trying to convey her support, Flora refused to look away from his pain-filled eyes. “When you’re ready to talk, you ought to explain what that outburst was all about.”

Jensen glanced around the dining room, now mostly empty. “You’ve already heard bits about Fred’s brother, Gregory.”

The statement sounded more like a question, so Flora nodded, encouraging him to go on.

He rubbed one hand across the back of his neck as he leaned back in his chair. “He and I were inseparable growing up. As much like brothers as two boys could be. We started tinkering with engines when I was eighteen. Mr. Harrison brought a velocipede home from Germany to keep us from getting into trouble. We started building our own engines and attaching them to bicycles, looking for more speed. That turned into making race cars out of whatever automobile parts we could get our hands on and joining informal races outside town. I drove sometimes, but we found that we made a better team with me strategizing and Gregory driving.” A tight smile crossed his face, dimmed by grief but there, nonetheless.

Flora sipped her water before speaking, giving him a moment to relive happier memories. “Was he a good driver?”

The smile brightened. “He was the best. He beat Archie every time.”

Silence fell. Flora didn’t try to break it but gave Jensen whatever time he needed to continue his story.

Finally, he spoke again, his eyes fixed on his fingers as they fiddled with the tablecloth. “That day, we had just finished preparing a new car, one Mr. Harrison bought us. Gregory was so excited to be the first to race it. He went on and on about how it would fly past everyone else and leave them in the dust. Archie didn’t like Gregory’s bragging and challenged him to a one-on-one race before the others arrived. I knew deep down it was a bad idea. Archie had always been more ruthless and intense than the rest of us.”

Flora imagined a younger, more adventurous Jensen with his best friend at his side. Two months ago, it would have been hard to envision. Now, she’d seen hints of that speed-chasing, race-loving younger man, and it was an easy image to conjure. “What did you do, then?”

His head dropped again. She had to strain to hear his response. “I let Archie get to me. He pushed and goaded without mercy, and I finally had enough. I convinced Gregory he had to beat Archie one more time to make him stop. It didn’t take long to realize what a terrible idea it was. I tried to convince Gregory to back out, but he wouldn’t. We fought about it. He even threw a punch at me when I told him only an idiot would go through with it. Then he went ahead without me.”

A lump rose in Flora’s throat. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to expect her to speak. She could already see how he’d been blaming himself for whatever happened next, how his firm stance on protecting others stemmed from this one moment when he felt he’d failed his friend.

He swallowed hard a few times, then continued. “The new car was as fast as we thought it would be. Gregory pulled ahead right away. But without anyone riding along to watch for him, Gregory had to keep looking back to see where Archie was. Archie said that at some point, Gregory was looking behind him, and his wheel hit a rock or hole or something that caused him to lose control. I always wondered if Archie was telling the truth about that, but however it happened, the car flew headlong into a tree. Gregory was thrown pretty far from the car. The doctor who examined his body later said he was killed as soon as he hit the ground.”

Looking around, Flora was glad the room had emptied. She slid over to sit in the chair they’d left open for Fred, right next to Jensen. She reached out and took his hand, causing him to finally look up at her. “You must have blamed yourself for so long.” Tears gathered in his eyes, and he sniffed, confirming that she was right. “Oh, Jensen. The choices you made don’t mean you were responsible for his death. He made choices, too, as did Mr. Franklin.”

“But my anger and pride blinded me and made me careless. If I hadn’t let Archie get into my head, I would never have told Gregory he should do anything so foolish. I convinced him, then abandoned him to die alone. Flora, everyone blamed Archie, and I let them. My terrible mistakes hurt so many people.”

If only she knew what to say to take the guilt from his shoulders. Would hearing her story help ease his burden? “I believe you know my husband died two years ago.” At his nod, she continued. “He also died in a racing crash.”

Jensen’s hand squeezed hers, sending a tingle up her arm. How strange to be talking about Henri while having such a response to Jensen. Flora ignored that thought and went on. “I should have been the one driving. But much like you and Gregory, we quarreled the morning of the race. We had been trying to start a family, and he was convinced that participating would be unhealthy for me. Those races were getting so competitive, it was very possible things could get out of hand. But it felt so much like Clement’s controlling behavior that I pushed back.”

Now she felt Jensen’s rough fingers gliding over the skin of her hand, lightly rubbing. Heat pooled in her stomach, and she sucked in a breath. His eyes held hers as she finished her story. “I went to the race, anyway, but when he found me there, he refused to let me in the car. He drove in the race instead, to keep me from doing it. There was a problem with the engine, and he stalled going down a hill. Another competitor didn’t see him until it was too late and crashed right into the back of his car. The car flipped and pinned him under it. I’m sorry to say it wasn’t instant like Gregory.”

Thank goodness, her eyes didn’t fill with tears. She wanted to help Jensen see the truth, not wallow in her own emotions. “For so long, I wouldn’t leave Isabelle’s house, convinced I could have saved him, that it would have been different if I’d been driving. But the truth is, I’m not in control of my own life, let alone Henri’s. The Lord took him then, and I cling to the truth that His will would have been accomplished no matter what I chose to do. It wasn’t my fault, and Gregory’s death wasn’t yours.”

A tear slid down Jensen’s cheek, breaking Flora’s heart the rest of the way. “Can you believe that, Jensen? Yes, you made mistakes, and there are consequences for that. But can you forgive yourself and move forward knowing you aren’t guilty of causing Gregory’s death?”

His hands rose to grip her upper arms. Flora’s breath caught and held as he leaned forward. A heartbeat away from her lips, he paused. “With your confidence in me and the Lord’s grace, I can.”

Then he covered her mouth with his.

Flora lost herself for an amount of time she couldn’t be sure of. She was only aware of the warmth of his lips, the sound of his quickening breaths, the feel of his hands sliding around to stroke her back. He reached up and buried one hand in her hair, tilting her head to meet his kiss at a different angle, and she was tempted to crawl out of her seat to be closer to him.

Just when she thought she might never catch her breath again, he pulled back. The world immediately felt colder and emptier without his body against hers. But he took her hand again, and she was grateful for the contact.

“Thank you for sharing your past, Flora. I’m sorry you’ve felt the same way I have for all these years. I wouldn’t wish that shame on anyone.”