Two of a Kind (Fool's Gold #11)

“I heard most of those who complained at the Fourth of July festival were converts by the end of the long weekend,” the mayor said.

“Ignore the whiners,” Eddie called out. “You obviously know what you’re doing. Stick to your guns.”

Gladys nodded. “She’s right.”

“Thank you,” Felicia said, gratified by their support.

“While I don’t like to encourage them,” the mayor said, “I have to agree. We’re all very pleased with the changes you’re making. Stay the course, dear. This town is lucky to have you.”

Felicia nodded, her throat too tight for her to speak.

* * *

GIDEON CHECKED HIS watch again, then wondered if he’d made a mistake. He’d been in town earlier when he’d seen the display of mountain bikes outside the sporting goods store. He had the idea that it was something the three of them could do together. Not only would it help to fill the weekends, but the days were still long enough that they could go riding when Carter got back from camp.

But from the second he’d unloaded the bikes, he’d started to think he’d made a mistake. Carter might be too old, or think the idea was boring. What if Felicia didn’t know how to ride a bike? He didn’t like the worry, and he sure didn’t like not knowing if he’d done the right thing.

Before he could pack everything up, Felicia and Carter drove up the mountain and pulled into the driveway. He was stuck standing by the garage, the bikes right in front of him.

Carter climbed out of the car and hurried over.

“You got these?”

Gideon nodded.

“Wicked. I’ve seen bikes like this in a magazine, but I never thought I’d have one.” He went over the bike, calling out details. “Can we try them out now?” he asked eagerly.

“Sure.”

“Did you get helmets?” Felicia asked.

“Killjoy.”

She walked over to him and put her hands on her hips. “If you like, I can provide you with the statistics on bike safety and brain damage that results from bike accidents.”

“With a breakdown by age group?” he asked.

“If it’s important to you.”

If Gideon hadn’t already been climbing on his bike, he would have pulled her close and kissed her.

“I got helmets,” he said instead.

“Carter,” she began.

“I know, I know,” the teen grumbled, getting off his bike and walking over to her. “Helmet first.” He took his and put it on, then waited while she adjusted everything.

“I can do that myself,” he told her.

“I know, but I feel better doing it.”

Carter glanced at Gideon and rolled his eyes. “Women.”

Gideon chuckled.

Once they’d all put on their helmets the three of them set off up the mountain.

Carter led the way on the private road by the side of the house, pedaling fast. “We’ll go really high,” he called over his shoulder.

“There’s a lookout about two miles up,” Gideon told him.

“As long as we don’t go onto the highway,” Felicia said, keeping up easily. She was wearing khakis and a sleeveless white blouse, but her office clothes didn’t slow her down.

“No highway,” Gideon agreed.

“I heard that,” Carter yelled. “I’m old enough to stay safe.”

“No highway,” Felicia repeated.

“Is there a back way to town?”

“We’ll find one,” Gideon said.

The sun was high overhead, but the tall trees provided shade. In Fool’s Gold the temperature was probably close to ninety, but up here, it was a good ten or fifteen degrees cooler.

“When did you learn to ride a bike?” he asked.

“One of the lab assistants taught me.” She pedaled steadily beside him, her face a little flushed. “He thought I should know how. Later he convinced the professor in charge of me to sign me up for swimming lessons.”

“He sounds like a nice guy.”

“He was. I think he felt bad I was alone in the lab so much, but by then, it was all I knew.”

By then. Meaning she’d known something else before. She was so intelligent, he hadn’t given much thought to the connection between what had happened to her and how it must have felt for a four-year-old little girl to be abandoned by her parents.

“You must have had someone looking after you at first,” he said.

“The university hired a nanny to stay with me. There were houses for professors on campus. I was given one of the smaller ones at first, and there was always someone to prepare my meals and stay with me at night. Later, when I was about twelve, I moved into one of the living units in the applied sciences building. There were a handful for the graduate assistants.”

“You were on your own from the time you were twelve?”

“Mostly. By then I’d published several papers and cowritten a book, so I had income to buy food. I saved the rest of it. Having a way to support myself financially made it easier to show the judge I was ready to be an emancipated minor.”

Despite his months of torture, Gideon knew that pain came in more than one form.