Chapter Sixteen
Kate gaped at the bicycle Alex was holding upright at the foot of the porch steps. “It’s a bicycle built for two! Just like in the song!”
Mrs. English laughed. Mrs. Finney tried to. Alex said, “Brilliant, Kate. You got it on the first try.”
“Smart aleck,” she muttered, feeling silly.
“That’s smart Alex, if you please. Hope on.”
“Hop on?” She goggled at him this time. “I can’t ride a bicycle!”
“It’s not difficult, especially with me doing all the work.”
Feeling small and foolish, Kate clasped her hands behind her back. “I don’t know, Alex . . .”
“My husband and I rode it, Kate.” Mrs. English looked up from her embroidery.
“They sure did,” agreed Mary Jo. “And if Ma could learn how to ride a bike, anybody can.”
Kate cringed inwardly at this bit of non-diplomacy, but Mrs. English only laughed and said, “True, true.”
“Go on, Kate,” urged Mrs. Finney. “I’ve always wanted to see one of those tandem bicycles in action.”
It had taken her mother a long time to recover from her troubled night. Kate wondered if that meant Hazel Finney’s time on this earth was nearing its end. Probably.
That being the case, and as little as Kate liked feeling ridiculous, she supposed it wouldn’t kill her to give the bicycle built for two a whirl. If it would make Ma happy, her own embarrassment would be worth it. “Well . . . All right.” She heaved a huge, dramatic sigh. “If I fall off and break a leg, Alex English, you’re going to have to fill in for Little Egypt for me.”
Mary Jo shrieked with hilarity. Alex gave his sister a mock-ferocious scowl. “I’ll send my sister to do it.”
Like heck. Alex would shoot somebody before he’d allow his baby sister to appear in Kate’s Egyptian costume, and everybody knew it. He took care of his family, unlike some men Kate knew. “I’ll bet,” she grumbled. But she flung her leg over the body of the bicycle. “I hope my skirt doesn’t get caught in the spokes.”
“It won’t.” Alex’s voice fairly reeked with confidence.
Kate wasn’t so sure about that, and she didn’t much want to sacrifice this skirt, which was the same one she’d worn yesterday and which she’d made by hand, to the cause.
“Hold onto the handlebars,” Alex commanded.
“Right. Handlebars.” Kate knew what those were, because she’d seen lots of people ride bicycles and had gleaned the pertinent information. She’d never done so herself, since nobody in the family owned a bicycle. She’d never thought she’d missed much, transportation in Chicago being so easy to come by.
Without another word, Alex pushed off and started peddling. Shocked, Kate uttered a brief shout of alarm and held on tighter. When she realized her feet were going up and down and around and around, she nearly lost her footing.
“Pedal!” Alex hollered.
The wind hit her face at the same time his yell hit her ears. “How?” she screamed back, terrified.
“Just do it!”
He was laughing at her. Kate would have hit him, except that she needed both hands to keep herself upright. How humiliating it would be to tumble off the bicycle and end up with her skirt over her head.
“Yay, Kate!”
That had come from Mary Jo who, Kate assumed, was still on the porch. She didn’t dare turn her head to look for fear she’d unbalance the whole act.
“That’s the way!” Alex cried.
It was? But she wasn’t doing anything. Daring hugely, Kate glanced down at her feet. By gum, they were going around on the pedals. As an experiment, she exerted a little pressure. The bicycle sped up and she shrieked again.
“Good!” shouted Alex. “That’s the way!”
And it was. Without understanding exactly how, Kate soon discovered herself peddling away behind Alex, laughing and screaming with joy. She’d never done anything so exhilarating—except for last night, but that was personal and not to be shared. When she felt secure enough to glance over to the porch, she saw that both Mrs. English and her own mother were laughing, Mrs. English heartily, her mother more or less just smiling. But Kate knew a laugh when she saw it, and she shouted out again with pure glee.
They rode for almost an hour, and Kate couldn’t remember ever having so much fun. And her mother had been able to share it with her. She knew she’d never be able to express enough gratitude to Alex and the rest of his family for giving Mrs. Finney this opportunity. And Kate. Kate wouldn’t have missed it for worlds.
“We’re good at this, Kate,” Alex hollered back over his shoulder.
Kate, her hair having fallen out of its pins and now streaming in the wind the two of them were creating, and her skirts frothing up around her knees, had to agree. “We got the rhythm going, for a fact.”
“Can I take a turn?” Mary Jo had to shout to be heard over the laughter of the two mothers and the whoops from the two cyclists.
“Nuts,” said Alex.
Kate was more gracious. “Absolutely! I’m exhausted.” She poked Alex on the shoulder blade when he didn’t seem inclined to stop peddling. “I mean it, Alex. I’m not used to this kind of exercise.”
“Nuts,” Alex said again. “You dance for a living. You’re in great shape. I know it for a fact.”
Kate poked him again when he waggled his eyebrows at her from over his shoulder. “Stop that!”
Alex heaved a huge sigh of mock distress. “Oh, very well. If I must.”
Kate scrambled down from the bicycle and staggered to the porch. “Whew!” She winked at Mary Jo. “Good luck, kid. Your brother’s a slave driver.”
Mary Jo giggled as she made a move toward the bicycle, then stopped and turned back to Kate. “I’m so glad you visited us this weekend, Kate. I’d never have gotten to ride this thing if you hadn’t come.”
With another laugh, Kate flopped down next to her mother on the chair Mary Jo had vacated. “Glad to help.” She glanced at Mrs. Finney. Her heart lurched when the harsh spring sunlight revealed the extent of her mother’s ill health. Not only was she pale and drawn, but she looked to Kate as if she were only hanging onto this life by sheer effort of will. Kate got the impression her mother was breathing for Kate’s benefit alone; that she’d lost all interest in living for herself. Reaching over to pat her mother’s thin, dry hand, she said, “You all right, Ma?”
Mrs. Finney turned her hand over and squeezed Kate’s. “I’m fine, Katie. Just fine. This has been the best weekend of my life.”
“I’m glad, Ma.”
When her mother’s attention veered to the brother and sister on the bicycle, one of whom was squealing like a piglet and the other of whom was roaring like a lion and bellowing at his sister to shut up and pedal, and both of whom were being pursued by a stupid black-and-white dog that couldn’t hunt, Kate passed her other hand over her eyes to make sure none of her tears would leak out and make Ma feel bad.
# # #
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Will you stop asking me that, Kate? For God’s sake, my mother and your mother have become practically like sisters during the past two days. Her staying here will be good for them both. Ma needs an interest in life besides her children, and since Mary Jo’s going to Chicago with us, this is the perfect answer.”
Kate knew it. But she didn’t want to leave Ma here. She was afraid she’d never see her alive again. And what about Billy and Walter? Oh, God, she didn’t even want to think about what her brothers would say to her when they found out Kate had left Ma on Alex’s farm. Would they think she had abandoned Ma to the mercy of strangers?
On the other hand, Kate’s father had finally managed to find out where she and Ma lived. When he got out of jail—which might already have happened, given the law’s indifference to husbands beating up on their wives—her mother would no longer be safe at Kate’s flat. And Ma would be much happier here on the farm, where she could watch the birds fly and the squirrels chatter and the cows moo, than she’d be in that ghastly white hospital room. “I know,” she muttered.
“Then stop fighting me about it.”
Kate heaved an aggrieved sigh. “You must know I’m only worried about Ma, Alex. I’m not trying to be difficult.”
“You don’t have to try,” he grumbled, flinging his sister’s wicker bag into the boot of the carriage. “Being difficult comes naturally to Kate Finney.”
“That’s not fair.”
She saw Alex’s teeth clench as he grimaced and picked up another piece of luggage. “Nothing’s fair. If you haven’t figured that out by this time, you’ve been living life with your eyes closed.”
Peeved, she snapped, “How come you’re so grumpy today, anyhow? I’m the one who’s going to be late to work.”
She’d expected Alex to have driven her back to Chicago yesterday evening, but he’d postponed the trip until today. After he rearranged the baggage to his satisfaction, he turned on her. “Dash it, Kate, You don’t have to go back to work at all! I can’t understand you.”
“I know you can’t.” She sucked in air and told herself not to throw a tantrum just because her heart was broken and she felt as if she were dying and she didn’t think she’d survive the day at all, much less a day of telling fortunes and dancing to squealy Egyptian music.
She hadn’t yet informed Alex that he was mistaken in assuming the two of them were destined to be wed. She aimed to delay the announcement until they were alone together. Mary Jo would be in the carriage heading to Chicago with them. Kate really didn’t want a witness to what she knew would be a huge fight between herself and Alex, especially since she had a hunch Mary Jo wouldn’t understand Kate’s position on the matter. “But I need to explain everything to Madame. And they’re depending on me at the Egyptian Pavilion, too. It wouldn’t be fair to them if I just didn’t show up again. I thought you were such a stickler for principles.”
“Huh.” He heaved the last piece of luggage into the boot and dusted off his hands. When he turned this time, he placed his hands on her shoulders and grinned down at her. Kate nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. She loved him so much. “Kate, my darling, you’re right and I’m wrong. There. Does that make you feel better?”
“Yes.” She swallowed so as not to sob aloud.
“Good.” He hugged her hard. Kate hoped nobody was watching. “You’re absolutely correct in that you ought to inform your employers that your circumstances are about to change. I’m sorry I urged you to do neglect a responsibility.”
“That’s okay,” she mumbled, struggling to free herself.
With a loud exhalation of breath, Alex let her go. “Let’s see if Mary Jo is ready to set out for town. If she’s still dithering, I may just leave her behind.”
“You’d never be so cruel to your sister.” Kate smacked him on the arm on the off chance that if she acted playful, she’d feel playful. It didn’t work, but Alex misinterpreted her mood, so the gesture worked out all right anyway.
“I don’t know about that. Mary Jo can be a pain in the neck sometimes.”
He grabbed her hand. Kate didn’t resist because she wanted to experience as many of these tokens of his affection as she could before she delivered the news. She knew he felt obliged to marry her now that they’d be intimate, but she also knew that if he’d only think about it he’d agree that she’d make the worst possible wife for him. He needed some high-society lady who understood his station in life, not a worm like her, who’d have to learn how to be a lady. “You promised her you’d take her to the fair,” Kate reminded him, trying her best to sound pious.
“I know it.” He heaved a melodramatic sigh. “And I never go back on my word.”
“It’s a good thing, or I might have to sic one of those big Egyptians on you.”
They were both laughing when they trotted up the porch stairs and entered the house. The entry way was abustle with activity. Kate saw her mother in the wheeled chair Alex had either rented or bought for her, laughing along with Mrs. English, Mrs. Gossett, and Louise as Mary Jo dashed here and there, dropping things, picking them up, trying to straighten her hat, losing her hat pins, and generally behaving like an addle-pated adolescent.
Alex released Kate’s hand, put his fists on his hips, and frowned at his sister. “For heaven’s sake, Mary Jo. Aren’t you ready yet?”
Mary Jo yanked on a glove, stabbed a pin into her hat so hard that Kate winced in sympathy, and skidded to a stop before her brother. “Yes!” She slapped a hand over her heart and panted.
Kate laughed, although she didn’t feel like it. She’d surveyed her mother’s face during the last act of Mary Jo’s show, and she didn’t like what she saw. She was afraid—terribly afraid—that if she left now, she’d never see Ma again in this lifetime. And, since Kate wasn’t sure a hereafter even existed, much less that she herself was destined to go there since she considered herself a less than stellar human being, she hated to leave Ma here, even with the knowledge that Ma would be better off in this lovely place with all these helpful people surrounding her than she would be in the city. Alex even managed to get the neighborhood doctor to visit the farmhouse twice a day to make sure she had everything she needed. Within reason. What she needed was good health, and nobody could restore that. And God, if He existed, didn’t seem inclined to waste his time on such as Hazel Finney.
Making her way to her mother’s chair, Kate knelt beside her. “You sure you’re going to be okay, Ma? You can come with us if you want to go back to Chicago.” To die. Naturally, she left out that part.
Hazel Finney kissed her daughter’s cheek with lips that felt like dried rose petals. “Please don’t fuss about me, Katie. You’ve done more for me than any mother should expect from a daughter. You’ve even brought me to this beautiful place and introduced me to the kindest people I’ve ever met. I’ll be fine, lovie. Please don’t worry.”
Kate had meant to give her mother one of her usual good-humored, saucy quips. What she did do was break down. Laying her head on her mother’s lap, she sobbed, “Oh, Ma, I’m so scared.”
“Ah, Katie, Katie. I know you are, darling, but please believe me when I tell you that I’m not. I’m ready for whatever happens. And you’ve made it possible for me to spend a few of my last days in heaven—even before I get there.” She began laughing, and the laugh turned into a painful fit of coughs.
Kate felt terrible about losing her control. She fumbled for her handkerchief and brutally wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ma. Here, take this.” She handed her mother her tear-stained hankie. Mrs. Finney nodded her thanks and pressed the embroidered—by Kate’s own fingers—piece of cotton to her lips.
Sensing Alex close by, Kate lifted her head and found him gazing at the two of them, concern plain to read on his face. She tried to smile. “Sorry, Alex.”
“Don’t apologize, for God’s sake.” He knelt beside her and put one of his big, warm hands on Mrs. Finney’s shoulder. Kate knew from experience that her mother’s shoulders were skeletal, all the excess flesh having been vanquished years ago by hard work and ill health. “Will you be all right, Mrs. Finney? I’ll be happy to leave Kate here, but she insists on going back to the fair.”
When she finally caught her breath, Mrs. Finney gasped, “My Katie knows what she has to do, Alex. That’s one of the things that make her special.”
“I suppose so.”
Kate heard plenty of doubt in his voice. She knew he wasn’t doubting her code of honor; he doubted her common sense. She did, too, but she also knew that it was important, both to herself and to her mother, that she fulfill her commitments.
“I’ll be back soon, Ma. Promise.”
“I promise, too, Mrs. Finney. I’ll bring her back to you as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Alex.”
Kate wondered if she was reading more into her mother’s expression than was really there. She could have sworn some sort of silent communication was taking place between the two people she loved most on earth. She shook her head as she stood up, telling herself that she was only being fanciful. Still, Mrs. Finney clung to Alex’s hand for a long time before they finally departed the English farm and headed back to Chicago.
Mary Jo chattered the whole way about what she wanted to see at the fair and what she aimed to do there. Her babbling made Kate’s head spin, and her mood went from depressed to itchy to incredibly crabby before they’d been rattling along the road to town for an hour.
Finally Alex, either sensing Kate’s mood or, more likely, becoming tired of his gabby sister on his own, told Mary Jo to pipe down. “I know you’re excited, kid, but why don’t you give the two of us a break. We’ve got other things to think about than seeing the sights at the Exposition.”
Mary Jo lifted her chin. “That’s because you’ve seen it before.”
“No,” Alex snapped. “It’s because we’re both worried about Mrs. Finney.”
If Kate weren’t so grumpy, she might have felt sorry for Mary Jo. As it was, she could only be glad the girl stopped chattering before Kate blew up and said something nasty to her. I’ve got to work on my temper, she told herself. Maybe most of the people she knew deserved to be yelled at, but the Englishes didn’t. Not even self-engrossed, adolescent, Mary Jo.
The rest of the trip passed more or less in silence. Kate tried to respond appropriately to the speaking glances Alex sent her way, but she only felt tired and cold and alone, and it was difficult for her not to wish she’d never met him. It was a selfish wish, because Kate’s introduction to Alex was the best thing that could ever have happened to Ma, given her health. As for Kate, she loved Alex to distraction, but since they were destined to part forever soon, she’d as soon have spared her heart and soul the pain of that parting.
She was getting morbid. Life would go on, no matter what happened to Kate’s own personal feelings. It didn’t seem fair to her, but as Alex had noted not long before, life wasn’t fair. A body would think that a girl would know better than to leave her heart vulnerable as Kate had done. Fool. Idiot. She was so darned stupid.
Before Kate was done vilifying herself, the carriage drew up in front of the Congress Hotel. Kate wished Alex had taken her home first. On the other hand, she didn’t want Mary Jo to see where she lived. It was probably better this way, even if it prolonged Kate’s state of misery.
“We’ll get you settled,” Alex said cheerfully. “After I take Kate home, I’ll be back, and we’ll decide what to do first.”
“I want to see the Columbian Exposition first. I want to ride on the Ferris wheel! Then I want to see Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show!”
Even Kate couldn’t help but produce a smile for this bit of enthusiasm. The Ferris wheel had become the most popular attraction in the fair. Buffalo Bill’s Wild West wasn’t even an official part of the Exposition, but was housed on the grounds outside the fair. It was as popular an attraction as the fair itself. It was said that some folks came to Chicago, saw the Wild West, and went home thinking they’d seen the entire Exposition. Kate didn’t know about that, and she’d never seen Buffalo Bill’s offering to the world’s inquisitive mind, but she didn’t fault Mary Jo’s choices in entertainment.
“We’ll all three go to Buffalo Bill’s Wild West tonight,” Alex declared, winking at Kate. “Kate doesn’t have to go back to work until tomorrow.”
“But—”
“I’ll see to it,” Alex interjected loudly, trampling Kate’s protest as if he were swatting a bothersome fly.
“But, what about—”
Again Alex forestalled her. “I’ll talk to the Egyptians and Madame Esmeralda as soon as I see you home. Stop fretting.”
Kate gave up. She might as well. Alex had an answer for every one of her complaints and equivocations. Therefore, nothing more provocative than social pleasantries passed her lips as she and Alex went with Mary Jo to the room Alex had taken for her. It was next to his. Kate had to suppress a gasp when the bellboy, who had been summoned to carry Mary Jo’s luggage gestured them into a cage, pressed a button, and the cage began moving upwards. She didn’t want to look like a booby, but she’d never been in an elevator before, and the experience was almost as exciting as riding the Ferris wheel.
The suppressed elevator gasp was nothing compared to the gasp Kate had to suppress when the bellboy turned the key in the door to Mary Jo’s room and pushed it open. Why, the room was bigger than Kate’s entire flat! She gazed with wonder at the luxurious appointments. It was all so plush and modern.
“Oh, my,” she murmured. Then she felt foolish.
“Oh, Alex!” Mary Jo exclaimed, easing Kate’s qualms about being a booby somewhat. “This is so pretty!”
“The Congress is a brand-new hotel, sister mine. All the appointments are modern.”
“It’s bee-yootiful, Alex!” Mary Jo ran to the bed and flung herself on it, bouncing twice. “I love it!”
Kate, who had believed the luxury of the English home could hardly be surpassed, stared in wonder at Alex’s sister. Fancy that! A young, spoiled, rich girl could be impressed by something. Would wonders never cease?
It didn’t take long to get Mary Jo settled, and although she begged to be allowed to go with Alex to see Kate to her apartment, her entreaties were rejected. Kate guessed she was glad of that, but wasn’t sure, given the nature of the news she aimed to impart unto Alex during the carriage ride.
But she didn’t impart it. She couldn’t. And it was all because he was so happy.
He grabbed Kate’s hand and held it tight as soon as she was settled in the carriage. “I’m going to take you and Mary Jo up on the Ferris wheel tonight, Kate. And after that, we’re all going to see Buffalo Bill’s Wild West.”
Kate opened her mouth to refute Alex’s assumption of her evening’s time, but didn’t do it. Couldn’t do it. This was the man who was responsible for making her mother’s last days on earth happy. She couldn’t spoil the evening for him. There would be time tomorrow to inform him she wouldn’t marry him.
He anticipated her. “Don’t say a word, Kate. I’m taking you and Mary Jo to dinner in the hotel, and then we’re going on the Ferris wheel, and then we’re all going to see Buffalo Bill’s Wild West. I’m only taking you to that ghastly flat so that you can have a few hours of rest.”
She expelled a gust of air and gave up completely. “Thank you, Alex,” she said meekly.
He eyed her skeptically. “That’s all?”
She blinked at him. “That’s all of what?”
“That’s all you’re going to say to me?”
She thought about it. “Um . . . Yes.”
“Good Gad.” He gaped at her.
Kate felt her temper beginning to spark, sort of like when she touched something and got an electrical shock. It took all of her will power to hold a sarcastic retort inside and not blurt it out in Alex’s face. This was the man she loved, she told herself. This was the man who was being kinder to her and her family than anyone had ever been.
As if he understood, Alex squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Kate. I oughtn’t tease you. I know you’re facing some difficult times.”
She stared at him. Never, in all of her twenty-two years, had anyone been so nice to her. Turning her hand over in his, she returned his pressure. “Thanks,” she said simply, loving him and wanting him, and wishing she were someone else and could marry him with an easy conscience.
They reached her flat a few minutes later. To Kate, the ride from the Congress to her street was like a descent into hell. From the bright, clean streets surrounding the luxurious hotel, the neighborhoods got dirtier and less sanitary and shabbier and uglier, until the carriage took the familiar turn around the corner, and the smell of the slaughterhouses and the butcher shops smote their noses. The odor was so foul, it made Kate’s eyes water. She couldn’t fathom why she’d never noticed it before.
Silly Kate. She’d never noticed it before because she’d had nothing with which to compare it. Not for more than a few hours at a time, anyway. After three days in the country, her senses had been clarified. Now she could completely understand the horror of where she lived. With all her heart, she wished Alex didn’t know of her ignominy.
Too late. With a sigh, Kate decided it was past time she resumed the cocky, don’t-tread-on-me demeanor she’d perfected in her several years in the slums. “Aha. The sweet smell of home.”
Alex squeezed her hand again. “Not for long, darling. Not for long.”
She gave him a long, steady look and almost broke her vow not to burden him this evening. But she couldn’t spoil his first evening in the city with Mary Jo. That would be too unkind, even if Kate knew it would ultimately prove to be the best course of action. She wouldn’t allow herself to ruin the life of the only man who’d ever shown any kindness to her and her family. Rather, she smiled sweetly after only a very few moments of hesitation—nowhere near long enough to make him suspicious. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good.” Although Frank the coachman knew by this time where Kate lived, Alex thumped on the carriage ceiling as they approached the Schneiders’ shop. When he turned back to Kate, he wore a frown. Kate braced herself.
“We’ve got to get you out of this place before your father gets out of jail.”
Kate shrugged, feeling a wash of defeat. “He’s probably already out.”
“We’ll see about that.”
His face was grim. Kate recognized that look and was surprised it still had the ability to shock her. She should have learned by this time that his elegant demeanor hid a will of iron and a heart of gold. Not to mention fists of steel, God bless him. If there were any justice in the universe, her father would have landed on his useless head and killed himself when Alex punched him. She patted his knee. “Don’t worry about me, Alex. I know you don’t like to hear it, but I’ve learned to take care of myself, you know.”
“I know.” His scowl didn’t abate appreciably. “And I think it’s a dashed awful world that demands such sacrifices from young girls who ought to be loved and protected.”
Until Kate met Alex, she’d have considered such a sentiment not merely maudlin and silly but absolutely unheard of. Nobody in her whole life had expected to have to protect Kate Finney. Not even her brothers, mainly because they were all born within a four-year span, and had grown up protecting each other. Kate could recall helping Billy drag Walter out of their father’s reach during drunken rages. And they’d all tried to protect their mother. “Yeah,” she said. “That would have been nice.”
“We’ll take care of it,” he promised her.
Kate believed him. That is, she believed he meant it. Again she smiled.
Alex hefted her carpet bag as if it weighed nothing and toted it up the stairs to her flat. When she pushed the door open, the shabbiness of her living quarters smote her full in the face. Astonishing how one could get accustomed to the least felicitous surroundings, especially if one didn’t know any better. Although Kate had never thought twice about her apartment except to be grateful she had it, this time the thought of moving back into it after a weekend in the country made her stomach roll.
She stood beside the bag Alex had set down. “Thanks, Alex. You’ve been so good to us.”
“Nonsense. I don’t think my mother has had a better time since my father died. You and your family are a blessing to us, Kate.”
Right. And pigs could fly. Rather than say so, Kate smiled again. “Thanks. Talk about blessings, you’re the tops when it comes to blessings, Alex. As well you know.”
“Aw, Kate.”
He had a silly grin on his face when he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. Kate and her unruly body responded to his embrace instantly. She’d have given her eyeteeth, had anyone offered for them, to be able to consummate another act of love before Alex left her life. Maybe tonight, she thought, even though she knew another intimate joining would only be taunting fate. She wasn’t going to marry Alex; she’d be a benighted fool to go to bed with him again anyway.
He deepened the kiss. She pressed against him shamelessly, wanting to feel his warmth for however much longer she had.
“Gad, Kate, I want you so badly.”
She already knew it, because she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach. “I want you, too, Alex. But you need to get back to your sister.” It almost killed her to add that.
Alex groaned as he pulled away from her. “Soon,” he promised her. “Soon we’ll be able to love each other any time we want to.”
She stared at him, the word “love” having caught her by surprise. But no. She told herself not to be frivolous. He didn’t mean he loved her. Not the way she loved him. Rather, he was using the word as a—what was that word? Euphemism? Kate wasn’t sure, but she thought that was the one—for desire. “Yes,” she said at last, figuring she was probably damned anyhow, so what did one more lie matter at this point?
He hugged her hard once more. “I don’t want to leave you here, Kate.”
“I know you don’t.” She didn’t add that she didn’t want to stay, because she didn’t want to sound like a whiner. Besides, she had to get in touch with her brothers as soon as possible.
“I’m going to the Exposition before I go back to Mary Jo. I’ll talk to Madame Esmeralda and the Egyptians.”
“Tell them I’ll be back to work tomorrow.”
He didn’t like it. Kate could see it clearly as his expression turned mulish. She said sternly, “Alex.”
Throwing his hands in the air, he cried, “All right! I’ll tell them you’ll be back to work tomorrow—or maybe the day after. But you aren’t going to be working any longer than I can help, Kate.”
“Don’t tell them that, please. If you dare—”
“I won’t.” He rolled his eyes. “For the love of heaven, Kate, I’ve learned not to usurp what you consider your privileges by this time.”
“Privileges? Privileges?” She embraced her rage as a fortunate alternate to grief. “Nuts to privileges! I have the right to live my own life without your interference, darn it!”
“Oh, Lord, not again.”
She could tell his temper was tattered, too, and was contrite, although not enough so to moderate her tone when she spoke again. “Yes, darn it. Again. I’m not a compliant little rich girl, Alex. I’m Kate Finney, and I’m used to taking care of myself.”
His expression softened, and Kate’s heart lurched painfully. “I’m sorry, Kate. I know you’re an independent female. I guess we’ll have to work on getting used to each other’s . . . Ah . . . quirks.”
In spite of herself, Kate grinned. “That’s a good word for it. Diplomatic. You’re good at that, Alex.”
“You bet. I’m good at lots of things.”
He bent down and kissed her again, although she didn’t allow the kiss to linger. She wanted to. But she knew better. Life had taught Kate Finney that if a girl in her situation once allowed herself to fall victim to a man’s blandishments or her own heart’s longings, she was done for.
“I’ll pick you up in three hours, Kate. Be ready!”
“I will.”
He kissed her one last time before he departed. Kate flopped down on her the bed that served as a sofa during the day and wished she could just die now and get it over with. If God could only take her instead of Ma . . .
But no. Kate knew that her own passing would wound her mother. She guessed she was the stronger of the two of them. Therefore, it ought to be Kate who endured the pain of living. Her mother had taken enough abuse in her life. She’d probably be better off dead.
And, on that dismal thought, Kate removed her clothes and began washing herself, using cold water left over from before she left for the country, and wishing she were somebody else.