Page 4 of An Uncertain Road

Mrs. Harrison glanced at Aggie, her eyes clearer than they’d been earlier in the party. “My dear, remind me when Fred will arrive?”

Aggie directed a soft smile at her mother. “On Thursday. He’ll be here in time for dinner with his wife, Beth. You remember her, don’t you?”

Mrs. Harrison looked affronted, in her right mind again now. “Of course, I remember my daughter-in-law.”

Next to her, Mr. Harrison slid his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. “There’s one more item to add to our schedule. I was hoping to wait for Fred and Beth, but I’m afraid with the wedding events, most of the week will be too busy. I’d like to arrange for all of us to tour the racing shop. Would tomorrow after church be acceptable to everyone?”

Nods and murmurs of agreement went around the small circle. Except for Jensen, whose scowl deepened. “I apologize, but that won’t be possible for me. Perhaps another time.”

Flora expected Mr. Harrison to accept the refusal and move on, but instead, he removed his arm from around his wife and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We would love your support for this family venture, Jensen. Can’t you spare a few minutes to join us?”

Red began to tinge Jensen’s cheeks as every gaze in the room locked on him. How awkward that he was being put on the spot in such a way. But then, Flora was hardly one to understand the dynamics of a healthy, loving family. Perhaps this push and pull between family members was normal.

Aggie jumped in, her sweet, even tone perfect for calming the tension that was rising in the group. “Please Jensen, it will be a quick tour. This is a big step for Harrison Goods, and you’re an important part of the company and our family. We want you to be there with us. And you could give input on increasing safety measures in the facility.”

Would he give in? Flora waited with the others while conflicting emotions chased each other across Jensen’s face. What was it that caused him to dislike cars so much that he would disengage from those closest to him over a mere visit to a racing shop? Would she get to know him well enough to find out?

The desire to discover more about Jensen was unexpected. His dour outlook reminded her a bit of Clement, which should have been an immediate cause to get as far from him as possible.

But Jensen Gable intrigued her. His loyalty to the Harrison family was especially intriguing. She could appreciate the way he doted on Mrs. Harrison. And it was hard not to be drawn to a man with convictions as strong as his, even if she didn’t agree with them.

After a long pause, Jensen’s expression settled into resolve, and the tension broke in the room. “I’ll join you at the shop. But only so I can see for myself that safety will be a priority.”

* * *

The next morning, Jensen made every effort to listen to the minister at the church the Harrison family had attended for generations. But he’d never found the elderly minister’s sermons interesting in any way. Ever since Gregory had been taken from them, church attendance had been a struggle—one Jensen more and more often chose not to fight. He preferred to keep what faith he had left to himself. Mrs. Harrison had implored him to join them for a few weeks while the family was together to celebrate Aggie’s wedding, though, and he could never say no to her.

Glancing down the pew past Aggie and Owen, he caught a glimpse of Mrs. Montfort on the far end. She didn’t look nearly as uninterested as he felt, instead hanging on the minister’s droning words. Why did her attentiveness spark such fascination in him? He had the urge to find her after the service and ask what was so riveting, what she was learning from the sermon that he was missing. Would her opinions about faith be as strong as her determination to drive herself everywhere?

Jensen shook off thoughts of her and let his gaze stray to the sun slanting through a stained-glass window next to him. He had much more pressing problems than an errant attraction to the sister of his soon-to-be supervisor.

One of those problems was about to face him head-on that afternoon.

The service finally ended, and the family all gathered at the Harrison home for a quick lunch, laid out by the cook, Mrs. Kern. Jensen rushed through his meal so he could take a moment to peek into the kitchen and thank the aging woman for her work. She’d always snuck him bites of the tastiest treats as a child, and he’d loved her for it ever since.

At two o’clock that afternoon, Jensen gathered with the others in front of a tidy brick building two blocks from Harrison Goods. Mr. Harrison beamed with pride when he saw Jensen examining the well-designed exterior, with the words Harrison Goods Racing painted in huge white letters around two arched bay doors facing the street. He nudged Jensen with eyebrows raised. “Are you impressed that I pulled this off without anyone in the company knowing?”

Jensen frowned. This venture was hardly a laughing matter. “I don’t know that impressed is quite the word, sir.”

Undeterred, Mr. Harrison made his way to the entrance on the side of the building and turned to address the group. “I’m thankful each of you could join us today. I hope you’ll see the care and effort that went into making this building a template for the future of auto racing. We consulted many drivers, mechanics, and team owners in the process of planning it, and I believe that will serve us well. Let’s not waste any more time. Please come in.”

Jensen didn’t expect the pang of regret when he realized he hadn’t been one of the mechanics Mr. Harrison had involved in planning the shop. Not that he would have agreed to participate in this scheme. But he would have appreciated being asked.

Conflicted, Jensen followed the others into the shop, their footsteps echoing through the space as Mr. Harrison switched on the lights. It was a far cry from the chicken coop at the back of the Harrisons’ property he and Gregory had commandeered to build their cars in, with dirt floors, grimy windows that let in little light, and a distinct lack of space. This was what an elite racing garage should look like. Electric lights hanging from the ceiling brightened every inch of the smooth concrete floors. There was enough space in the center of the room to work on at least four cars at once. Every imaginable mechanic’s tool hung in orderly rows above workstations lining the walls. It was a dream.

But cold reality splashed over Jensen when he caught a glimpse of a Peerless touring car in the back, awaiting a crew of reckless adventure-seekers to pilot it to their deaths. He squeezed his eyes tight against the all-too-familiar vision of flames engulfing an inverted car as men rushed toward it in the futile hope of saving a life. This shop was no dream, after all, but a nightmare where human lives were at stake.

He had a job to do here, and that was to stop this foolishness from happening.

Looking past the state-of-the-art equipment, he peeked into corners and under worktables while the others exclaimed in delight over the shop.

Finally, Mr. Harrison strolled over to join him. “Jensen, what do you think? Is it up to your standards?”

The entire group seemed to hold their breaths at once. He knew what they wanted to hear. But he couldn’t say the right words just to make them happy, not when lives could be at risk. “What fire prevention methods do you have in place? What about ventilation during chemical use? I haven’t seen a single first-aid kit. I can’t imagine you’d be willing to open this shop without planning for employee safety first.”

It might not be enough to stop Mr. Harrison from opening the shop altogether, but at least asking questions might delay him long enough that Jensen could convince the man this was reckless.

While everyone had their eyes fixed on him, Jensen felt Mrs. Montfort’s gaze most prominently. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her bewilderment. Of course, she wouldn’t understand his intentions. Most people thought of cars as either unnecessary inconveniences or exciting innovations. Unless they’d seen first-hand the damage these vehicles could inflict at high speeds, they had no idea the danger posed every time a person climbed into one. He could tell Mrs. Montfort was part of the latter group. It would most likely take a tragedy for her to realize how misplaced her passion for cars was.