Free Bicycle Built for Two by Alice Duncan Page A

but it wasn’t easy to do. “Why
are you being so belligerent, Miss Finney?”
    “I’m not belligerent!” she shouted.
Realizing she’d raised her voice, she hissed, “I’m not a fool,
either, Mr. Alex English. I want an answer.”
    “Why do you call me Mr. Alex English, Miss
Finney. I don’t understand why you need to use my name as a
bludgeon. You may call me simply Mr. English, if you like. Or even
Alex, if you want—”
    “I don’t.”
    Alex smiled wryly. “Yes, I imagined you
wouldn’t, although I’m not sure why.”
    “You’re not sure why?” Kate did a fairly
good job of looking incredulous, although Alex imagined nothing
much ever surprised her. She’d grown up in surroundings that killed
off most people before they got to be her age. He imagined she went
to great pains not to be surprised by anything—which might, he
thought suddenly, be one of the problems here.
    “Listen, Miss Finney, I know we got off to a
rocky start—”
    “Ha! You tried to throw me out of the
Exposition!”
    He nodded with some comprehension. “I
didn’t, actually, but I understand why you might harbor that
opinion.”
    “Nuts. You were going to make me leave
without even meeting me first, and you know it. You were going to
deprive me of my livelihood because my father’s a no-good son of a
bitch—er, gun, I mean. Darn it, don’t lie to me! And I want to know
why you put Ma in a private room!”
    Alex hesitated and glanced at their
surroundings, hoping no one he knew would walk by. Dash it, why was
the woman getting so overwrought? It was embarrassing, standing out
here with her screaming at him like a fishwife. “Keep your voice
down, please, Miss Finney,” he whispered, hoping to inspire her by
example.
    “Very well,” she whispered
back. “Why? Why? What do you want from me? Darn it, if you think
I’m one of those women, you’d just better think again!”
    Alex goggled at her. “What is the name of
heaven are you talking about?”
    Kate’s lips pressed together once, and Alex
could swear he saw the color creeping into her cheeks under all
that outlandish Gypsy paint. “Just answer me, will you? Why did you
put Ma in a private room?”
    Hoping that honesty would keep her from
yelling again, Alex decided to tell the truth—as much of it as he
himself understood. In a loud whisper, he admitted, “I—Dash it, I
felt sorry for her.” Because he felt compelled to, he added, “And
you.”
    The play of emotions on Kate’s face was
fascinating to behold. Alex clearly saw fury, shame, and pain chase
each other across her expressive countenance. He wasn’t happy to
behold any of them.
    Kate’s voice shook when
next she spoke. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Mr. Rich Man English. I don’t
need your damned pity!”
    Alex, who never swore himself unless he was
alone, and who was shocked when he heard profanity fall from the
lips of gentlemen, was aghast when the word left Kate’s mouth.
“Well, really, there’s no need for—”
    “What?” Her body had taken
to shaking in time with her voice. “What is there no need for? Me
to say damn ? Or
your pity?”
    “Dash it, I don’t pity you! I do feel very
sorry for your mother, and whether you want to admit it or not, I
can afford to pay for better medical care than you can!”
    “But why?” Kate shouted.
“ Why are you
paying for it?”
    Damned if he knew. Alex couldn’t say that.
Especially not after being shocked at Kate for swearing. “I like
your mother, Miss Finney. She’s a—a very nice woman.”
    “Yes,” Kate said, her voice still wobbling
precariously. “She is. But she’s nothing to you.”
    “That’s not true. I met her. She’s in my
life now. I couldn’t—I can’t—” Alex felt helpless. He didn’t know
what had compelled him to help Mrs. Finney. “Dash it, she deserves
better.”
    His astonishment when Kate wiped a tear from
her eye was totally unfeigned. He hadn’t believed the wench had a
tear in