Acres, Natalie - Bang the Blower [Country Roads 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (18 page)

“How would you know something like that? I reckon you wouldn’t remember me coming over to dinner when your daddy was out of town.”

She swallowed hard and watched the old man’s hands tremble. Placing her hand over his, she said, “Frank, you really have been like a father to me. I know in my heart that if my father had lived, he probably wouldn’t have given us the chance to get to know one another. What a great catastrophe that would’ve been if I couldn’t have lived my life with you by my side.”

“I reckon that’s right by me, too.”

“I reckon it is,” she drawled, starting toward the barn.

“Julie.” Hearing Frank say her name stopped her. She turned around and waited, ready to listen to whatever words of wisdom he wanted shared. He pointed toward the mare he’d just purchased and said, “You wanna know how come you were always able to ride these crazy horses?”

She waited for his explanation. Apparently Frank thought he had it all figured out.

“It’s not as complicated as you might think, even though you could handle ’em when grown men couldn’t.”

“I just loved horses. Maybe they sensed it.”

“Nope, but you’re close,” he said, his eyes following an older gelding as he loped through the pastures. “You had no fear. The men who sold these animals often called them beasts, the devil’s creatures, and all sorts of nasty names. Of course some of them had a good enough reason. Me and you, though, we never bought any of ’em. We knew if we brought a horse home, gave it some attention and tender loving care, eventually they’d come around.”

“We’ve never had one that didn’t,” she reminded him.

“You’re right about that. It’s because these horses never sensed you were afraid of them.”

“I wasn’t.”

“That’s right. I don’t recall you being scared of anything I brought home for you to ride. You used to tell me, ‘Frank, I’m a big girl now. I can ride ’em all.’ And I declare you believed that from the time you were yay high.” He held his hand down to his knee.

“I may have been a tad taller than that.”

“Not much.”

“You goin’ someplace with this, Frank?”

“Julie, I want you to give that car a fair shot. Get behind the wheel and get a good feel of her, and see what you think when you’re only here among friends.”

She winked. “That’s where I was headed before I got detained.”

“You were?” Frank asked, his furrowed brow suddenly relaxed.

“Yes, Frank. Someone I love very much once told me: ‘If you want to have something in life, you don’t quit. You push forward when everyone falls back. You run the race when the others give up. You get up when everyone stays down. And you never get out of the race car until you pull into winner’s circle. Nobody wants to see you when you lose anyhow. After you get to that finish line first, then you can step out of the car with your head held high. Otherwise, don’t get out of the car until you’re back in the pits. Your fans don’t want to see a loser. The fans are only interested in winners.’”

“I said that?”

“You did,” she replied.

“I was some kind of crazy bastard back in the day, huh?”

“It was sound advice for a race car driver.”

Frank squinted his eyes and used his tented hand to block the sun. “Have you seen any of those around here lately?”

“Looked at one in the mirror this morning,” she replied, tossing aside her cane and running up the hill. “It’s a new day here at Hinman Racing, Frank. You’d better brush off your breeches and get ready to work! We’ve got a long way to go if we’re gonna win some races!”

Epilogue

Bristol, Tennessee

August 2011

Hank and Duke tried their best to help her relax. Duke rubbed her ankles and feet, even though they were covered in fireproof sneakers, while Hank massaged her shoulders. Frank paced back and forth in front of them, which may have been why she was so nervous in the first place.

“We’ve got less than ten. Less than ten,” he reported. “Ten and countin’.”

“Frank, it’s gonna be fine,” Julie assured him, taking a deep breath, wishing the first race was behind her.

“All right,” he said, squatting in front of her. “Let’s go over the strategy one more time.”

Before Frank had the chance to discuss how she’d win the race—and in Frank’s head she’d already claimed the victory—her lead mechanic yelled, “It’s time, Julie!”

“It’s time, little girl,” Frank said excitedly, yanking her away from the chair. “There’s no way we can go over everything again. Do you need to ask me any questions?”

“Frank,” she said patiently. “I can talk to you throughout the race, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s right. We’ll have us a good time out there today, won’t we?”

His enthusiasm touched her. If Julie had only known how much this meant to Frank, she would’ve made the switch from dragsters to stock cars long before now. Then again, the experience changed her life.

She strolled toward her car with the men she loved most walking behind her—Frank, Hank, and Duke. Lined up with the other competitors, Julie stood beside the machine love built, and couldn’t help but hold her head high with pride. Other drivers hugged their families. Most of them said good-bye to their wives. A few of them embraced their children or kissed a girlfriend farewell.

In racing, the drivers recognized the last kiss or hug before an event could be the final kiss or hug good-bye. Without thinking—not that it would’ve mattered, if she’d stopped to consider the potential fallout or media attention—she grabbed Hank and hugged him. When he released her too soon, she grabbed him again and kissed him like tomorrow would never come. Then, she turned to Duke and kissed him, too.

“You’re gonna cause a stink, little girl,” Frank told her when she pecked his cheek.

“I hope so,” she said. “That’s what I love about racing.”

“What’s that?” Frank asked, arching a brow.

“It’s a man’s world. It’s the only place a woman can act like a man without getting condemned.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hank said, tapping the car roof when she finally took her seat and secured the safety belts. “Good luck out there.”

“We don’t need much, do we, Frank?”

“No, little girl. We got all the luck we need between you and me.”

After the national anthem, the fighter jets flew overhead. As they ripped through the air, Julie thought about the fears she didn’t have then. In many ways, Frank’s life philosophies were right. The art of winning a race often came down to the man or woman who believed they’d already won.

“Here we go, boys,” she said, waving good-bye. “I’ll see you on the start side of the finish line, Frank.”

“I’ll be there!”

She never doubted that for a second. In his mind, she was the clear winner. Now, she had to show the world what made a champion in stock car racing.

With stark determination, she clutched her steering wheel. The Master of Ceremonies took the microphone. “Men and women, start your engines!”

“Go on out there and win this race!” Duke exclaimed.

“We’ll do it,” she assured him and winked at Hank. “You two hang around. After I win this thing, I’ll be ready to celebrate.”

“After you win this thing, we may take you out and marry you,” Duke teased.

“As long as I don’t have to say ‘to have and to hold,’ we should be okay.”

“What?” Hank screeched, yelling over the roar of engines.

The cars started darting out of the pits taking their place on the track. Before she pulled out, she called out behind her, “You’d have to catch me first!”

THE END

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