Page 5 of An Uncertain Road

The sound of the side door opening again echoed through the room before Mr. Harrison could address his concerns. Jensen had to blink several times to decide if he was seeing what he thought he was. Framed in the doorway, Sam Kelly had grown in the years since Jensen had last seen him. But that flaming shock of red hair was unmistakable, bringing back visions of the young boy who ran errands for drivers and crews at the impromptu races they held on country roads and open pastures. He’d been the one to deliver the terrible news about Gregory. Now he stood almost as tall as Jensen and was built more like a farmhand than the gangly errand boy Jensen remembered.

Mr. Harrison welcomed Sam with delight, offering a brief introduction to those in the group who didn’t know him. Sam greeted everyone with professional poise, even shaking Jensen’s hand, although his roguish smile was the same as always. Jensen waited through the small talk, desperate to know why Sam was there. Had Mr. Harrison gotten the young man tangled up in this racing mess?

Mr. Harrison eventually got to the point, explaining Sam’s presence. “I’ve put out some inquiries about men who would be good options for our new team, and Sam’s name came up more than once. I’m sure even Jensen couldn’t argue that his years of experience in racing make him an excellent candidate to be a mechanic for us. Sam, have you come with an answer for me?”

Nodding, Sam appeared far more mature and capable than Jensen ever would have imagined the ragamuffin boy could have become. “I’m sorry, but I had already agreed to be a mechanic for another race team right before you contacted me. If I’d known, you can be sure I’d have chosen you, Mr. Harrison. Gregory was the kindest driver I ever met, and it would be an honor to work for a team carrying on his work.”

Mr. Harrison’s expression hardly changed, but Jensen could see him holding his emotions in check. Whether it was the mention of Gregory or the disappointment of not getting Sam to work for him, Jensen couldn’t be sure. For his part, there was no relief that Sam had declined the job, only worry over the fact that he was already entrenched in this wretched sport.

Owen had made himself a spot next to Mr. Harrison and Sam, following the conversation with interest. “I’m almost afraid to ask, Sam. Are you working for Ronald Dorman? We learned of his racing plans last year.”

The name settled everything into place in Jensen’s mind. Ronald Dorman was the owner of Harrison Goods’ strongest competition and Mr. Harrison’s lifelong rival. The knowledge that Mr. Dorman had started a racing team put this situation into perspective. Jensen had to confirm his suspicions. He waved one hand to encompass the entire shop. “Is that the real reason for this stunt? Did you two pour company money into a dangerous game just because Ronald Dorman is doing it?”

A heavy silence filled the shop. Though he’d thought he was doing well at keeping himself under control, it was clear from the expressions around him that his disgust had shown through. He ran a hand over his face, working to get himself together. This was why he stayed far away from cars at all costs. He couldn’t even manage his emotions around them, much less make rational, safe decisions.

Owen shifted from one foot to the other. “It’s not a stunt. We came up with the idea as a way to keep up with Mr. Dorman, yes. But we’re also confident this will launch Harrison Goods into the modern era. Like it or not, cars are the future of transportation. We’d rather get involved early than be late.”

Sam cleared his throat, reminding everyone that he was there. “I don’t suppose I’m meant to hear all this, being Mr. Dorman’s employee and all. I respect you folks enough that I wanted to stop by and deliver my news in person, but I’ll be going now.”

Regret cooled Jensen’s frustration. He’d made everyone uncomfortable again. “Before you go, I believe I can speak for all of us when I say that we’d like to celebrate your…opportunity. Tell us about it. When will you start racing?”

Sam perked up at the chance to talk about his new job. “In a few weeks. Mr. Dorman has had teams run at some small local races, but our first big event will be the Glidden Tour starting in July.”

Mr. Harrison cocked his head in a gesture Jensen knew all too well. It meant a plan was forming in his mind. “I’ve heard about that one. It’s an endurance race, correct? Run over several days with check-ins each evening along a predetermined route, if I remember right.”

Enthusiasm radiated through Sam’s every move as he nodded. “Yes, sir. Ten days, to be exact, heading north from New York City through several states, then returning to the American Automobile Association headquarters.”

Mrs. Montfort joined the conversation, her excitement matching Sam’s. “I’d love to hear more. I enjoy long races. I drove in the Paris-Madrid race in 1903 with my late husband as the mechanic. We had an excellent start position and might have won our weight class if not for a broken axle near the end. But ten days—that would be a challenge for any team.”

Jensen’s mind went hazy, and he had to take a moment to orient his thoughts. She didn’t simply enjoy the thrill of being at a race. This woman drove the race car herself. With her husband. What kind of man encouraged such reckless folly? His mind flew back over their previous interactions and her obvious love of racing, seeing it all in a new light. How had he missed the signs of another person who loved the speed and freedom racing brought as much as he did?

And how was he going to continue fighting for the safety of those he loved if her passion for racing kept them all moving forward with this nonsense?

CHAPTER 3

Next to Jensen, Flora heard the whoosh of air leaving his body when the truth about her involvement in racing slipped out. She was so intrigued by the idea of this Glidden Tour that she had forgotten how people tended to respond to a female race car driver.

But after several years of facing down biased men on the track, Flora knew what to do. She squared her shoulders and refused to look in Jensen’s direction, instead focusing all her attention on Sam. It was plain as day from his expression of admiration that he didn’t share the common opinion that women should refrain from any sort of excitement in their lives.

His words backed up her observation. “Mrs. Montfort, I’m impressed. Do you plan to continue racing here? Are you working for Mr. Harrison?”

Flora tried to maintain a light smile, but the fact that she longed to answer yes was hard to ignore. A silent plea rose from her heart. Lord, please let me race again. Give me a way to support myself and Isabelle.

Glancing over with interest, Mr. Harrison saved her from needing to come up with a graceful response. “Owen, I’m surprised you didn’t think of this. We’ll have to discuss the possibility of Mrs. Montfort driving for us. For now, though, we haven’t hired anyone. I hate to rush you out, but I promised our family a short tour of the shop, so we better get to it.”

Mr. Harrison walked Sam to the door with a friendly hand on his shoulder, then started his official tour.

A mix of emotions accompanied Flora through the space. It was thrilling to see the advanced machinery Mr. Harrison and Owen had invested in for their shop. She longed to spend more time with some of the equipment, trying it out to see how much easier the new technology would make mechanical adjustments.

But at the same time, her heart ached. Despite the excitement Mr. Harrison and Aggie showed when they learned about Flora’s racing experience, there were so many reasons for her to fear the possibility of driving for their team was only a silly dream. More than one racing organization had started barring women from entering. Men on teams sometimes refused to work with a woman or quit altogether if the matter of a female driver came up. She wanted the venture to be a success for Owen, which meant he needed the best crew—one that could create opportunities and partnerships instead of forcing doors to close.

Maybe it was better if she struck out on her own to drive so no one she cared about would feel the sting of any repercussions from her choices.

Flora ran her fingers over the smooth, shining wood of a worktable. Next to her, Isabelle smiled. “This is a lovely space to work. Will you consider it if you’re given the choice?”

Dear Isabelle, always thinking of Flora’s preferences. Her mother-in-law didn’t deserve the mess Henri had left them in. The older woman had spent years caring for her ailing husband and handling Henri’s immature impulses. Isabelle always claimed she should have been sterner with Henri as a child, but his angelic face had made it impossible. After the years she’d been married to him, Flora could understand that. He’d had a way of entrenching a person in his view of the world, which he considered his playground with no consequences for his actions. It was enjoyable to go along with such a vibrant man for a time, but it made the crash back to reality all the more difficult.

He was wrong. There were indeed consequences. But sometimes they fell to the people left behind.