Adventurer Gone Page 2

  Ro laughed. “I think you’ll find a way to drive that is so funny that I’ll wreck just watching you.”

  “I’ll do my best to drive in a way that humors you.” Hettie’s head cocked and she said, “I think it might be more fun to ride together. Maybe we should get a tandem motorcycle. Do they make those?”

  “I think they make something for more than one person.”

  “Do you think it could be an auto?” Hettie asked, causing Ro to pinch her back.

  Ro sniffed righteously as though Hettie were being naughty during Sunday services. With a snobbish tone, she said, “It’s important for you to wreck sometimes too. It can’t only be me. With you scratching the Rolls—”

  “Who can see a scratch after what you just did? Besides, I’m very, very sorry that happened, but I feel certain it wasn’t me.” Hettie knew her gaze was sparkling with mischief. Her mother had called it her ‘bedevil me’ expression.

  Ro ignored Hettie and continued snobbishly, “It would be so unfair for you to miss the pleasure of walking away from your own disaster.”

  An auto bypassed them as they walked down the road and Hettie gasped. “Those fiends.”

  “They’re quite rude,” Ro agreed. “I’m sore from the accident, these heels were meant for street fights, not long rambles, and—”

  “Were they though? Did you ask for street fight shoes?”

  “I asked for adventure shoes.”

  “Your problem then is you were shopping with a fool of a clerk. Adventuring shoes are clearly sturdy boots wherein one doesn’t end with mud between their toes.”

  They cackled their way through the outskirts of a village and Ro felt, not for the first time, a gratitude for Hettie’s existence that muffled any echoes of the heartbreak Ro had experienced before they’d met.

  Hettie was a gift from the heavens and Ro simply couldn’t wait to see what adventures were around the next bend. With Hettie as accomplice, she was certain there was nothing that could dim the light that her late husband had tried so fervently, yet unsuccessfully, to extinguish.

  “Do you think I could get a purple one, Hettie?”

  “I’ve never seen a purple motorcycle before, but I suppose with enough money and patience, you might be able to arrange for one?”

  Ro scrunched her face as though she’d just eaten a moldy piece of cheese. “I’ve got the money, but I’m low on patience. Remember, we’ve only got just a few weeks until summer comes to screeching halt.”

  “True. We may have to slum it and purchase whatever they come in normally. Men probably choose them, so—grey. Possibly a very manly green. Certainly black. Given this afternoon’s events, I doubt they’ll last the year. We can special order something for next summer.”

  Hettie’s brain was a treasure trove of lovely, very practical ideas. Ro told her so, and they spent the rest of their walk imagining motorcycles in every color under the sun.

  The look on the garage manager’s face was enough to send Hettie into a round of giggles so non-stop, Ro had to explain their predicament.

  “You drive?” the man asked. He was named Joe and he had a disparaging look on his face.

  “Yes,” Ro said brightly and Hettie’s laughter increased.

  “You were at a street fight?”

  “Obviously,” Hettie got out through her laughter. “Surely you can tell by our wardrobe?”

  The poor man stared at Hettie for so long, her giggles started producing tears.

  “The one on Kingsley Lane? The next town up?”

  “Yes,” Ro said, this time trying for merry.

  It didn’t help. He rubbed his oil-blackened fingers on his coveralls and then rubbed his brow. Ro just stopped herself from pointing out that the coverall hadn’t removed the oil, and he’d left a streak of black on his forehead.

  “That’s no place for a couple of girls.”

  “Women,” Hettie told him without laughter.

  He blinked stupidly at her and then looked back to Ro as though she were somehow the more reasonable one of them. Ro decided to not tell him she’d been the one to wreck the auto.

  “Then you drove yourselves home?”

  “Yes, yes. Of course we did,” Ro said again. She’d left behind bright and merry and was trying for clarity.

  “And you crashed into Farmer Abel’s field?”

  “Is that the one with the cows that have horns?” Ro scrunched her nose and considered giving up beef until she’d forgotten the lovely brown eyes of that cow.

  “Ah, yes. He’s not going to be pleased.”

  “We didn’t hit any cows,” Hettie said with only stray giggles. “They were all quite all right.”

  He shook his head at them and Hettie and Ro glanced at each other. It wasn’t as though they were speaking in French.

  Hettie cleared her throat. “What we need is for you to get the auto out of the field.”

  “Yup,” the garage man said.

  “Oh and my pearls, if you would,” Hettie said carefully and a little too loudly in case the problem was that he was hard of hearing. Ro made a note to try the same.

  “You left your pearls?”

  “They were quite broken,” Hettie explained, “and all over the auto. Quite frankly, I was lucky to have gotten myself out. I got quite jammed up, you know, between the dash and the seat. It’s unwise to drive with your feet propped up. Well, at least when Ro is driving. Anyhow, climbing back in didn’t seem quite worth it.”

  “Hettie!” Ro hissed. “I was going to blame you.”

  “Me?” Hettie shot Ro a dark look that promised a short-sheeted bed or all her stockings having their toes cut out. She shook her head and turned back to the garage man. “So if you could get the auto here, return it to working order or let us know at The Hotel Cristina in London if that’s not possible. And you know, get us to the train?”

  “The train?”

  “Yes, you see,” Hettie said very slowly and precisely, “we can’t get home without either an auto or a train.”

  “Home being the hotel?”

  “Yup,” Hettie said.

  Ro didn’t need her to explain she was trying the man’s own language as if that would help him understand. Their situation shouldn’t have been so difficult to understand, but perhaps they were a little confounding.

  “You are the oddest dames I’ve ever seen. Wait till I tell my Jenny.”

  “I wonder,” Hettie said brightly, “if you might tell her after you get us to the train?”

  “You look a mess,” he told them.

  “Yup,” Ro said, trying the man’s dialog.

  “Gonna get some odd looks.”

  “Yup,” Hettie said, nodding.

  “You might be more hurt than you think. Crashing an auto will leave you bruised and hurt.”

  “All the more reason,” Ro snapped, losing patience, “to get us to the train, so we can get back to the hotel, call Hettie’s favorite doctor, and take a bath with Epsom salts.”

  “He should check you two out for hysteria. My cousin had that. We had to put her in an asylum.”

  “Did she want to think for herself?” Ro demanded.

  “Or marry a man of her own choosing?” Hettie snarled.

  “Or not marry at all?”

  “Or wear pants?” Hettie lifted a brow at Ro and they nodded. Pants were definitely going to be part of the new wardrobe.

  “Or drive?” Ro stopped and then said with horror, “Drive with pants?”

  “Adventure?”

  The garageman held up his hands. “Ah, I’ve got a truck out here. I can take you to the train and then get your auto fixed up, shall I?”

  “That would be lovely. Tell your Farmer Abel to send us the bill for his fencing,” Ro added with a smile. “We’re quite sorry about the damage and any hysteria we may have caused in the cows.”

  Chapter 3

  “This one seems promising,” Ro said, taking in the store front and signage from her position on the sidewalk. The word Raleigh
was posted in big letters with a tagline in smaller letters. England’s luxury motorcycles. “It starts with an R, just like my Rolls and I’ve decided that R is my lucky letter. Besides, it’s got luxury right in the description and luxury, I’ve decided, is my new middle name. I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

  Hettie rolled her eyes and smiled simultaneously. “Your middle name is Lavender.”

  “Well,” Ro said through pursed lips, “now it’s Luxury Lavender. I guess my lucky letters are now R and L. It’s kismet, dear one. Kismet, I tell you.”

  Hettie laughed. “I suppose your superstitions are as good a method as any to pick our new toys. Let’s see if they have colors we like.”

  “As long as they have colors that begin with L or R. Lavender or perhaps red?”

  “If you find a color you like that doesn’t begin with an L or R, we’ll simply add an adjective that begins with the appropriate letter to put in front of it. Lucky black or regal silver.”

  “Once again, you find ways to tolerate me in a way that moves our agenda forward. What do you suppose these men will think of the two of us coming in to purchase these on our own?”

  “Let’s find out, shall we?” Hettie said with a wicked grin. “I’d love to confuse some of the boys today, wouldn’t you? Like that poor garage man. Though I have to say, I was quite shocked when he delivered my pearls, earbob, and headpiece to me. A confused but honest man.”

  “Yes,” Ro agreed, “he was quite a regal peach.”

  “A luscious leader of…”

  “Letches?”

  Hettie shook her head, and they laughed. The poor man. He hadn’t deserved them. But really, Hettie thought, merrily. Who did?

  They waltzed into the sales office of Raleigh motorcycles and Hettie’s breath caught at the sight of so many shiny motorbikes. A gentleman with ginger hair, kind eyes, and a toothy smile approached them. He looked quite sharp in his suit and Hettie found herself in a tiny daydream about riding on the back of his motorcycle. Only, of course, if his chest were worth clutching.

  “What are you gals up to this fine afternoon?”

  Hettie smiled wide and tried to turn her charms on the dapper fellow. “We need to purchase two of your motorcycles today and arrange for private lessons. My friend and I are committed to learning to drive motorcycles, especially as my friend’s Rolls has suffered the most unfortunate accident.”

  At the mention of the Rolls Royce, his eyes lit up, though Hettie imagined it was from her charm as well. “Welcome to Raleigh Motorcycles. I do hope your Rolls isn’t too banged up?”

  “It’s hard to say,” Hettie replied. “It was gushing liquid and there was wicked steam escaping the engine compartment as we walked away from it. The garage man still has it in his rather tender and lenient care.”

  The ginger salesman blinked while Ro snorted, but his smile was sincere when he said, “Oh my, how horrible. I’m sure it was a beautiful auto.”

  Hettie waived her hand dismissively. Easy to do since it wasn’t hers. “I suppose it was beautiful. It wasn’t sassy or sunny, and I think that’s the key. Perhaps one day it will be again, but in the meantime, we need to learn to ride these motorcycles.”

  “I see. You want to drive away in two motorcycles today then?”

  “Yes, sir, we do. Can you help us?”

  Whether he saw dreams of money at their request or was simply a kind man, Hettie couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t care as long as he complied with their request.

  “Shall I tell you more about the motorcycles before you make your selection?”

  Ro shook her head. “We’ve done our research and understand that Raleigh is England’s foremost manufacturer of luxury motorcycles. We’ll take two of…” She looked around the large room and pointed at a particularly shiny black one. “Two of that one right there. Hettie? Any opposition?”

  “Racy black. It’s perfect. Yes, two of these. I’m sorry,” she said, addressing the ginger-haired fellow. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Calvin, but you can call me Cal.”

  “Thank you, Cal,” Hettie said, aware that she was trying to make her voice drip with honey in an entirely too flirty way that was likely coming across as sickly, but continued anyway. “Now, we’ll be writing a check for these. Who can teach us how to drive these home?”

  “I think I have just the perfect person in mind for you. Much as I’d love to teach you myself, I’m afraid I’ve never learned how to ride a motorcycle.”

  Hettie’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. “You sell something you don’t know how to drive?”

  His face turned crimson and Ro was quick to continue.

  “I think that is quite charming, Cal,” Ro said, flattery dripping from her tongue in an easy manner. “In fact, it quite sounds like something my dear Hettie and I would do. Perhaps, after we learn, we can teach you. I can promise you’ll not find teachers more adventurous. How do you feel about the cows with those long horns?”

  His face returned to a normal color and he smiled warmly with a bit of a lopsided grin, despite the confusion in his gaze. “I suppose that would be quite lovely. What a lucky man I’d be to spend some time with the two of you. In the meantime, I’ll make a phone call and see if someone from a local motorcycle club, Raleigh Motorcycle Club of London, is available to teach you some basics this afternoon. They are a club of Raleigh owners who get up to hijinks and madness together.”

  “Oooh,” Ro said, “I like them already.”

  He left them to peruse the selection of motorcycles, even though they’d already made up their minds.

  “Oh!” Ro exclaimed. “Our luck continues. Hettie, do you think, in the spirit of being prepared for anything, that we should purchase four motorcycles? Lady Luck does seem to be shining upon us.”

  Hettie snorted. “It’s a fine, ridiculous idea, Ro, but I propose that we wait and purchase two more at a later date so that we have a reason to come back and visit with Cal again. I always like a good ginger. Can you imagine the two of us teaching a motorcycle salesman how to drive a motorcycle? It appeals to my soul.”

  “We are really quite philanthropic. Think of the good cheer we are spreading, both with our money and our willingness to teach those in need of a mentor.”

  “A skill we don’t have.” Hettie laughed so hard it was painful, or perhaps that was those bruised ribs Dr. Hale had scolded her over. He had been dismayed in the extreme at their summons and their state. Her head tilted as she said, “Dr. Hale has lovely eyes, doesn’t he? Better, I think, than sweet Cal.”

  Ro’s brows lifted and her expression went from joking to strict. “He does.” Her tone, however, ordered Hettie to turn her mind from Dr. Hale.”

  “I have been thinking,” Hettie told Ro, “about mourning periods of past generations.”

  Ro groaned.

  Hettie was forced to hold up a hand to gather Ro’s attention and explain. “I am not saying that I want to marry anyone this moment. Or that I should follow the dictates of any of the previous generations. After all, their philosophies landed us in this mess.”

  “Mmmm,” Ro agreed, expression shifting from light to dark.

  “But I do think I’m all twisted up inside and I’m going to refuse to even remotely consider any man for a year.”

  Ro’s head tilted.

  “I want to feel like myself in my head again. Before Harvey. Before marriage. Before heartbreak. Before abiding anger that feels like it poisoned me. Right now, I feel a little bit like a rebellious child who doesn’t know her own wants or needs. I want to know those things before I ever think on a partner again.”

  “Do you want to marry?” Ro’s tone told Hettie that her friend found the idea horrifying as well.

  “I don’t know,” Hettie admitted. “Sometimes when I see Dr. Hale’s eyes I think it would be all right. I always wanted to have a child. Tea parties, the chance to play with toys again, reading my favorite childhood books to them. I’m not too old for children, but I a
m too twisted up in my mind for them.”

  “So for today,” Ro said, “motorcycles.”

  “Rambunctious adventures.”

  “Rousing, refreshing roguery.”

  “Stop being so amusing, Ro.” Hettie hoped her tone conveyed love and a willingness to leave the last snatch of a conversation in the past. She had rather ruined the frivolity of the moment. Amends would have to be made.

  When Cal came back, they’d mostly composed themselves. Hettie noticed Ro’s gaze lingering. She leaned in to whisper in Hettie’s ear before he was in earshot, “In accordance with our agreement to protect each other from ourselves, I’d like to formally request approval to flirt with Cal. He’s charming in a boy next door kind of way.”

  Hettie sniffed, knowing Ro was trying to show her that flirting could just be fun.

  “I’ll allow it. But flirting only, Ro. No dates, no romance. A special for today only. Deal?”

  “Deal.” She turned to Cal when he stopped in front of them. “Cal, have you found someone who can help us learn to drive?”

  “I have, if you have an open mind.”

  “Depending on the topic, you’ll not meet two women with more open minds.”

  “There is a member of the club, one of their mechanics who sometimes does side work for our shop, who is available to teach you.”

  “That sounds wonderful and also doesn’t seem like it requires an open mind.”

  “Her name is Sadie Morgan. She has a way of speaking that offends some, especially those of say, a higher social order.”

  “She?” Hettie demanded, ignoring the way that Ro let her fingers travel down Cal’s arm. “She sounds absolutely perfect. Well done, Cal. How much should we make the check out for?”

  "I’ll put together your totals and have the motorcycles readied for you. Sadie is on her way over now. While we are preparing the paperwork, she can give you a brief tutorial on the basic functions like the hand brake and perhaps help you learn to balance on one of our loaners. By the time your purchase is complete, Sadie should have you ready to at least get home. If you’re very careful.”