Oliver's nefarious warning did little to deter Jack from wanting to spend more time with the man. If anything, the town's disapprobation awakened a rebellious streak in Jack, and his secrets only engendered more curiosity. Thus, when Sunday afternoon came and Jack returned from church, she walked over to see him.

Donovan and Jack hadn't spoken much since the Ragtime party. Perhaps he was keeping his distance because of the mysterious men at the dance. Though he often waved at her and smiled when she and Minnie departed for the factory, he hadn't spoken to her at all. Jack briefly wondered if their kiss had scared him away, but then she remembered his answer when she asked him if he had regrets. "Not for a moment."

Jack believed him. A man wouldn't kiss like that if he had no interest in a woman, and she had every reason to believe he was as good a man as any in her acquaintance. She certainly didn't regret the kiss, and she hoped it wouldn't be their last.

That brought her to the Bookers' front door Sunday afternoon after church. She had a proposition for Donovan that he wouldn't refuse. Jack changed out of her Sunday best into a loose shirt, a pair of men's trousers, and scuffed boots and marched to the Bookers' front door under the delicious August sun.

Jack lifted her chin as she crossed the bumpy field to the Bookers' house, letting the rays of sun wash over her tanned feature. Oh, how she loved the summer, and now that the end of summer was drawing near, she wanted to revel in every last moment. And she had just the plan to enjoy it.

The Bookers' home sat uphill from Jack's, a square brick house with a stout chimney and a view that nearly stretched to the nearby ocean. Jack had half a mind to drive and see it today if she could convince Donovan to go along with her plan.

Jack wracked her knuckles against the door, painted a dark green by Minnie in the spring. She tugged on her shirt as she waited, eager for a response. Finally, the door swung open and she was greeted by Julius, wearing a mismatched vest, shirt, and pants and no shoes. Ink was smeared above his left eye and he blinked against the sunlight.

Though absent-minded, the town's newspaperman was the most intelligent man Jack knew and she admired his absent genius. Julius was lucky to have Hannah Benjamin to keep the newspaper on schedule.

"Jack? Why, hello. Are you here to see Minnie?" he asked, an easy smile appearing on the man's broad face.

Jack's face pinkened as she contemplated her reply. "Actually, I'm not. Perhaps...is Donovan here? I'd like to speak to him."

Julius cocked one eyebrow and smiled at her. "Yes, I suppose he is. Shall I fetch him?"

"Yes, please."

Julius nodded and disappeared from the doorway and Jack kicked at a loose stone with her boot. Was she too bold in coming to their home to request an audience with a man she barely knew? Perhaps, but Jack had always been audacious. When she saw something she wanted, she went after it. No one had given her anything, so she worked for what she want.

"Jack?"

Donovan's smooth lilting voice interrupted her reflections and she looked up to find him standing in the doorway, his black hair loose from its tail. The dark strands fell around his face and Jack lost her train of thought for a moment. Mercy, he's handsome.

"Jack? You asked for me?" A smile lifted at the corner of his mouth and Jack knew she'd been discovered in her overt admiration.

"Yes, I...are you busy this afternoon?"

He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes washing down her face. "I'm not."

"In that case, I have a proposition. That is, if you've not grown weary of my company."

Donovan took a step towards her, heat flaring in his near-black eyes. When he touched her arm, his hand seared through her thin shirt. "Never. I just--there's danger in this, Jack. For you."

"I'm not some blinded teenager, Donovan," Jack said, her voice softening. "I'm well aware of what people will say."

He sighed and his lips parted as if there was something else to say, but finally he just smiled. "Alright, then. What's your proposition?"

"Teach me to drive." Jack gestured to the shiny Model T.

Donovan's eyebrows shot up. "You can't be serious."

Jack put one hand on her hip. "Can't I? I want to learn how to drive, and you just so happen to have a car. Please, teach me!"

Donovan's eyes lingered on the shiny automobile and Jack watched his indecision. "Jack, I..."

Jack tugged on his arm and looked up at him with the most imploring smile she could muster. "Oh, come on! We can drive to the beach, and..."

"Fine," he said, closing the door to the Bookers' house. "I trust you know what you're doing?"
"Not at all," Jack said, grinning up at him. "But I'm certain I can learn."

Donovan ran a hand through his long hair, looking between Jack and the car. "You're going to get me into trouble, Jack Harrison."

She punched him in the arm, her laughter rising in the breeze like a bird at flight. "Oh, don't complain. You like my trouble."

Donovan captured Jack's errant swing and hooked her arm in his. "That I do, Jack. That I do."

Jack walked around the shiny automobile, running her hand along the smooth black paint.

"This is a Torpedo Runabout," Donovan declared with pride. The automobile was low to the ground with a retractable roof, large wheels, and a glass windshield. It was smooth and svelte and Jack wondered just how fast it would go if she pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

Jack eagerly opened the front door and hopped onto the leather seat, her hands readied at the large wheel. "Alright, I'm ready. Let's go."

Donovan chuckled and fetched a pair of black gloves from the seat. "It's not quite that easy, Jack. Here, put on these gloves."

Jack took the gloves and pulled them onto her hands, the material soft on her calloused fingers. "Now what?" Jack asked. "How do we start this machine?"

Despite her confidence, Jack really had no skill with modern contraptions like the car as Mr. Cartwright insisted she avoid all the machinery at the factory due to an unfortunate incident a few months prior. Jack preferred to deal with things she understood: plants, animals, nature. Still, the concept of flying over the ground on four small wheels intrigued her. Oh, the places she could go with such a contraption!

Donovan motioned for Jack to dismount the automobile and approach the right side of the car. "This is the choke. To start the car, you must pull on this while at the same time turning the crank under the radiator."

Jack stared at him for a moment. Radiator? Choke? The words he used made no sense. "What in tarnation?"

Donovan laughed and slid away from the trinket he called the choke. "Here, pull on this while I turn the crank."

He gestured to the crank, which much resembled a butter churn, and started to turn it. "But what does it do?" Jack asked, her curiosity awakened as she pulled the choke.

"It's priming the engine with fuel," Donovan said. "Now I start it."

Donovan climbed into the driver's position, fishing a key from his pocket. Jack remained standing on the ground beside him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Come on, Jack! Get in!"

"But I want to drive!" she declared, all too aware that she sounded like a petulant child.

"You will, but I have to show you how first," Donovan said with a wink and Jack acquiesced, hopping up the sideboard into the seat next to him and leaning eagerly forward to watch his every movement so their arms brushed. "This is the ignition. You insert the key and pull the throttle to put it into neutral."

His words were a blur to Jack but she watched as he turned the key and pulled on a lever. Still, the automobile's engine didn't start. He dismounted the vehicle one more time, cranked a lever at the front, and finally it rumbled to life. Jack cheered for Donovan's success and he climbed in for the last time, grinning at Jack like a boy who had just won a dance with the prettiest girl in town.

"Well done!" Jack cried, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Now I just pull the throttle down and it speeds up, and I use the pedal on the far left to move the gears up."

Before he tugged on the throttle, however, he smiled at Jack for a long moment, his eyes dark and warm and alive. He rested his arm along the edge of the seat and leaned forward, slowly, achingly. He touched her shoulder, his fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve, and Jack felt goosebumps break out down her arm.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but Donovan silenced her with his lips before a word escaped her. This kiss was entirely different from their first, stolen on a bench in the dark of night. This was brazen and bold, not hesitant and hidden. His fingers traced up her arm to her neck, tilting her face so the kiss deepened until Jack sighed against his lips.

When he pulled away from her, his hair brushing against her cheek, Jack smiled. "What was that for?"

"I can't resist you, Jack," he said, turning to change the gears. The car lurched forward and Jack slid against Donovan, and she laughed as the car leapt over the rocks.

They drove in silence for a while, stealing sunkissed glances at each other like teenagers in love until Jack grew tired of watching Donovan drive and she tugged on his arm.

"My turn."
Donovan shook his head but pressed the brake pedal, slowing the automobile to a stop. He slid over on the seat and Jack slipped past him, his hands touching her waist as she moved, feathery light. Jack took her place in front of the wheel, only half listening as Donovan reiterated the functions of the three pedals and the various levers. Jack wasn't overly concerned with anything but the lever that increased the speed--she wanted to fly, to go, to be free.

When Donovan finally relinquished the wheel, Jack kept her feet from the pedals and just let the car go, and it hurtled forward. Jack could barely control the wheel as the car flew over the ground and she started to laugh, the sound rattling in her chest.

"Jack, slow down!" Donovan cried.

But Jack didn't listen. She only felt the wind sliding through her hair, the roar of the engine under the automobile's hood, Donovan's hand on her arm. Finally, smoke rose from the engine and it started to sputter, so Jack reluctantly touched the brake and the car jerked to a stop.

Donovan quickly turned the engine off, and his face was marked by shock and relief. He stared at Jack in mixed awe and horror, and his hand was a little shaky when he touched her.

"I...I think I need to get out for a moment," Donovan said, laughing as he exited the automobile, his legs wobbly. "Mercy, Jack. You're wild behind the wheel."

Jack glanced at the fields behind them and saw the dust flying from their trek, and she laughed again, a full hearty sound that echoed in the silence left by the Model T. Donovan leaned against the automobile and studied Jack has he often did, watching her face contort in laughter and the way she turned her face to the sun.

"I'm not sure I'll ever let you drive my automobile again," he remarked.

"Well, I'll just have to get my own then," Jack said, leaning against the automobile next to him. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, a feeling of utter contentment overwhelming her.

Jack didn't want to worry about what was happening between them or wonder where it would go. She didn't want to fuss over what people would think or how their relationship would be received. She wanted to enjoy these stolen moments far away from every distraction in the world. She wanted to kiss him until she lost her breath. She wanted to lose herself in this feeling and forget all else.

And nothing in all the world would stop her. 

Do you remember the first time you drove a car? Were you cautious (like me) or wild like Jack? Tell me in the comments!