The Davenports(49)

“I like your cap,” he said.

Helen yanked it from her head, smiling. “I take it you have plans with my brother,” she said.

“We’re meeting with some of his friends. The agenda is yet to be revealed,” he answered.

She used her fingers to count. “Cards, smoking, boxing.”

His eyes widened.

Helen smiled. She liked that she had surprised him. She shrugged. “John’s friends aren’t very original.”

Mr. Lawrence recovered quickly and came around the automobile, leaning his hip against its side. His long legs stretched toward her. “So, this is where you work, when you’re not . . . preoccupied.”

Helen nodded. “I come down here sometimes. To clear my head, to tinker.”

He picked up the wrench she’d had earlier. “Tinker.” He shook his head. “I don’t know any young ladies who’d willingly touch one of these. In a good way, of course,” he added.

Helen’s skin prickled. After his help a few days ago, she decided they would be friends. There weren’t many people she trusted. It was hard for her to make connections with girls her age. Most wanted to befriend her to get closer to John, and she shared so little in common with them and Olivia. She thought about what Mrs. Milford had said. Though Jacob Lawrence wasn’t the type of person she’d suggested Helen befriend. I have to start somewhere, she thought.

“What do you hope to do with all this tinkering, Miss Davenport?” He examined a screwdriver and watched her off-load the tools from the bags.

“Could you not,” she said, straightening. “Helen will do just fine.” This was her space, the one where she earned the same treatment as anyone else.

“All right.” His voice was softened by his smile. “Only if you call me Jacob.”

Helen thought about this for a moment. It was improper, yes, but they were friends, right? Soon to be family. “Jacob, I think about what it would be like to work at the Davenport Carriage Company one day.”

There was something in the way Mr. Lawrence looked at her that felt like a gentle nudge to continue. She tried not to think about the way his first name tasted on her tongue. Sweet and unlike anyone else’s. “I know John’s meant to take over, but I’m sure if I were a boy, there would be a place for me.”

“You don’t think there’s a place for you now?”

Helen threw an oil-stained cloth into a hamper. “If John was in charge, maybe.” She sighed. “If I were a boy, I could have done an apprenticeship with a mechanic, undergone formal training, instead of being forced to sneak in late at night when the house is asleep. I would have been carrying the notebooks and manuals instead of my skirts or a parasol.” She blushed at her words.

Mr. Lawrence pushed off the automobile. He didn’t say anything. Just handed her the screwdriver. His fingers grazed hers. It felt like that first sip of coffee in the morning—smooth, rich, and laced with an energy that shocked her system. Her throat was suddenly dry, the room too hot.

She exhaled. Her reaction confused her. It felt different from her interactions with John’s crew. Sure, the twins took her presence in stride, even joked with her. Henry especially shared his knowledge, knowing how desperately she wanted to do an apprenticeship with a mechanic. But an accidental brush of their hands as they passed a tool didn’t trigger such a response.

An unexpected friendship. That’s what this is, she told herself. She returned the screwdriver to the bag, not really seeing, just letting her hands move as she felt Mr. Lawrence’s eyes on her. He saw her, she knew deep down, in more ways than most people did.

John appeared at the garage door in a new shirt and his hair slicked back with a fresh coat of pomade. “There you are.” His eyes measured the distance between Helen and Mr. Lawrence.

“I forgot my hat,” Mr. Lawrence said by way of explanation.

John stared at the gentleman for a beat longer than Helen thought necessary, then asked, “Ready to go?”

Helen, relaxed by the task at hand, faced Jacob Lawrence as he attempted a goodbye. “Don’t play poker with Lonnie Lynch,” she said. “He cheats.”

Jacob laughed. “Good to know. Anything else?”

“Good luck,” she said.

Jacob Lawrence bowed like he had that day he’d helped her escape. Helen swore she heard him whisper Extraordinary before he left.





CHAPTER 22


    Ruby



Ruby watched the small clock on the mantel. She waited in the foyer, hat and gloves in hand. Harrison Barton was due to arrive at any moment to take her somewhere special, he’d said, piquing her interest. They’d been to all the popular places, where could be left? She sighed now and paced outside her father’s study—Mr. Davenport and John were inside. A perfectly timed chance encounter between John and Harrison Barton was just the thing her plan needed to get things back on track. The men’s voices were muffled. The least they could do was allow her to glean some news worthy to share with Olivia.

She straightened at the sound of movement within, and managed to appear as if she were just walking down the hall when the door swung open.

“Mr. Davenport, good afternoon,” she said. Ruby then turned the full wattage of her smile on his son. “John.” Both gentlemen greeted her.