Winning It All (15 page)

Maybe Bryan was that man.

Drawing a deep breath, she pressed her palm against the cool tiles. She prayed and hoped. She suffered and ached.

And though she knew there was a secret stash of double-fudge ice cream hidden in a nonfat yogurt container in the freezer, she didn’t even want that comfort.

Tom had nothing anymore. Maybe she shouldn’t, either.

N
EARLY A MONTH
after Cade’s win at Dover, Mitch Garrison walked out of the drivers’ and owners’ motor home lot in Loudon, New Hampshire, and saw Darcy heading in.

Since he rarely had an opportunity to talk alone with the woman who’d been such a positive influence on his oldest son’s life over the last several months, he flagged her down.

“Hey, Mr. Gar—” she said, then stopped abruptly. “I mean—Mitch.”

“It’s not too hard to remember, is it?”

“It feels weird.” Her delicate-looking face turned pink. “My grandmother would be horrified by my manners.”

He smiled teasingly. “Your grandmother would tell you to listen to your elders.”

“Pardon me, but you don’t seem like much of an elder.”

“Racing keeps you young at heart. And if I’m not old, I don’t need the Mr. G stuff, do I?”

She angled her head. “That’s very clever.”

He winked. “How do you think I got all those trophies?”

“Fast and smart, are you? I can see where the guys and Rachel get their skills.”

“Actually, their mother had a bit more to do with their smarts than I did.” Because talking about Barb made him sad and regretful, he changed the subject. “Are you busy right now?”

“No. I’m all done with the lunch rush and everybody else is talking about either track bar adjustments or marketing campaigns. My head was spinning, so I thought I’d head to Bryan’s motor home for a while. Do you need something?”

“Just a track charity event. Would you mind coming with me? Leanne’s at a dermatology convention this weekend. It’ll give me a chance to share humiliating stories about Bryan, so you can use them against him when he’s being a pain in the butt.”

Smiling, she linked her arm with his. “With that kind of offer, how can I do anything else?”

“So, you really have my junk-food-loving son eating healthy?” he asked as they walked through the infield toward the hospitality village. “Actual green stuff?”

“Yep.” She leaned close and whispered, “He even likes most of it.”

“Doesn’t seem possible.”

“I had to bully him into trying some things, but when he saw the results, he was a lot more cooperative.”

“And his knee is better?”

“He saw the orthopedist last week, who said his range of motion is better, and he’s much stronger. He’ll never be one-hundred-percent again, but the doctor says Bryan has far exceeded his expectations.”

“Thanks to you.”

She shrugged. “He did the work.” She glanced at Mitch, her eyes twinkling. “I just held the whip and chains.”

Mitch could see where this woman, with her elfin features and bright spirit, could get a man to do anything she wanted him to. She seemed an odd match for Bryan—who’d always gone for the more sophisticated and reserved type—but they fit in an unexpectedly lovely way, too.

And she didn’t remind him at all of his ex-daughter-in-law. The fact that they were both blondes was the only thing they had in common. Nicole’s beauty had blinded them all to her nasty side. And while Darcy was certainly beautiful, her looks seemed to glow from within.

Barb had those kind of looks. Whenever she walked in a room, her smile touched every corner. The kids had inherited that quality from her. Cade especially. Star quality. The kind of person that drew everyone else to them.

When had her smile stopped working its magic on him? When had he stopped noticing how beautiful she was? How lucky he was to have her by his side?

Of course if the obsessed way he looked through photo albums was any indication, Barb’s smile had never lost its true power over him.

Darcy cleared her throat. “You know I don’t really have whips and chains, right?”

Mitch laughed. “Too bad. We could have sent Lars over whenever he gets too full of himself.”

“You could bring it up at the next strategy meeting.”

“I think Bryan’s decided Lars is out of opportunities for helpful meetings.”

“Yes, he has. It’s a good thing Lars has taken his advice.” She was silent for a moment, then she asked, “You sure there’s not more on your mind than Bryan?”

They walked a bit farther, seeing groups of fans who were headed to and from the campgrounds, either to the hospitality tents where they themselves were going, or into the grandstands for qualifying, which was due to start in a few hours.

Mitch steered Darcy away from the crowds. This was a private conversation.

“You’re a very intuitive woman,” he said finally.

“Are you worried about Rachel or Cade?”

“No. My kids are happy and healthy. Including Bryan. You’ve been a real blessing to our family.”

Her gaze darted to his briefly. “Thank you. All of you are special to me, too. Are you—”

“I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake.”

She didn’t seem at all fazed by his blurted confession. “With who? About what?”

“My wife. My
ex
-wife,” he corrected and still felt the pain of saying it. “Barb.”

“You’re not happy she’s dating that florist.”

Visualizing that smarmy guy’s hand sliding along the lower part of Barb’s back, he clenched his jaw. “No.”

“I don’t blame you. She’s a lovely woman, and he seems really interested in her.” When his surprise obviously showed on his face, she continued, “I get a lot of chances to stand back and observe people. Plus, I’m really good at reading faces. It helps when I need to know if I can physically push a client further or need to pull back.”

“Or when you need to tell him he’s full of bull.”

Her gaze darted to his. “Then, too.”

When she didn’t elaborate, he said, “I appreciate honesty.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“This is like a conversation between a driver and a crew chief—I have to know where the car’s going off track if I’m going to finish the race anywhere near the front.”

She nodded, then stopped, turning to face him. “Do you still love her?”

He couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He wasn’t a man who discussed his feelings easily, and yet Darcy seemed the perfect confessor. She was close to the family and knew all the players, but she could also be objective.

“If you do love her,” Darcy went on, “I think you need to tell her. If you don’t…”

“What?”

“Stuff your jealousy.
You
left
her.
If you can’t be happy with her, she deserves to have someone who can.”

“You’re very direct.”

“I know.” She sighed. “It’s good in some ways, lousy in others. I’m sorry if I offended you, I—”

He held up his hand. “Don’t apologize. You’re right. I can see why Bryan values you so much. And I don’t know what I feel exactly. But I know I don’t like that damn florist.”

“Well, in my honest opinion…” She glanced at him, obviously looking for his approval, so he nodded. “You can’t go to Barbara and tell her that. For one, she’ll slam the door in your face. For another—”

“I’ve lost the right to say anything.”

“Yeah, I think you have.”

They encountered more groups of fans heading toward the hospitality area. Inevitably, Mitch was recognized.

Though he always enjoyed the fans, and appreciated everyone who remembered him, as more people gathered, he regretted not bringing one of the PR reps or crew members to help him move through the crowds.

Concerned about Darcy, he looked around and was surprised to find her next to him still. She was so small,
surrounded by fans shoving autograph books, hats and T-shirts over her head for him to sign.

“Okay, folks,” she said in a loud voice. “Mr. Garrison needs to go now.”

Then she grabbed his arm and started walking. The progress was slow at first, but either the sound of her authoritative voice or the sheer determination on her face had people moving out of her way.

“Mr. Garrison has a commitment in the hospitality area,” she kept repeating as they worked their way through the pack. “Please check the GRI Web site for his appearance schedule. Thank you for your support.”

Some of the fans moved with them, still babbling excitedly about the first race they saw, or explaining they, their dad or their aunt Mildred were
huge
fans. Mitch kept signing autographs, and Darcy kept them moving.

When they reached the security gate to the hospitality village, several security people rushed forward to help with crowd control. Mitch signed some last-minute autographs, then followed a track volunteer to the tent where his appearance was scheduled.

“Everyone’s so jacked up about you coming, Mr. Garrison,” the volunteer said as he led Mitch and Darcy into the back of the tent, to a blocked-off area behind the stage.

Mitch nodded. “I was glad to do it. Nobody’s more vital to our communities than our firefighters.”

“Firefighters?”

At Darcy’s shocked tone, Mitch turned toward her. “Sure. That’s who I’m meeting with today. The track organized an appreciation—”

He stopped as her face turned white. She swayed on her feet.

Mitch grabbed her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I—”

Her eyes were wide, the pupils unnaturally dilated as she stared out at the rows of chairs and the men and women starting to file into the tent.

“Darcy?”

The sound of her name was barely out of his mouth when she crumpled at his feet.

He braced his hand underneath her neck at the last second, preventing her from hitting her head on the ground. The quick reflexes he’d had all his life apparently hadn’t deserted him completely.

As Mitch knelt beside her, grateful the stage blocked the audience’s view of them, the volunteer gaped. “Oh, boy. I don’t—What should I—What’s wrong with—”

“I don’t know.” And before the guy could ask any more questions Mitch didn’t have the answers to, he said quickly, “You have a tent full of firefighters, most of them probably paramedics, too. Go find one.”

The volunteer’s eyes darted from Mitch to Darcy, then to the gathering of event attendees only a few feet away. “M-my brother-in-law’s out there somewhere,” the volunteer said, his voice shaking.

“Find him.”

As the volunteer rushed off, a spark of panic surged through Mitch. What had happened to her? Why had she fainted?

Before he could do anything more than grasp Darcy’s hand in his, a woman knelt next to them. “Is there anything I can do?”

Though his mind was racing and his heart pounding, he noted she wore a chef’s jacket. Part of the catering staff, no doubt.

“Ice?” he suggested. “A cool washcloth maybe? I think she just fainted.”

Though why she’d passed out so suddenly, he had no idea. Darcy was the healthiest person he knew.

“On my way,” the caterer said, leaping to her feet and striding away.

Mitch stared down into Darcy’s pale face and willed her to open her eyes. “Darcy?” He patted her cheeks gently. “Darcy, it’s—”

“What happened?”

As a young man with light brown hair dropped beside Darcy, Mitch leaned back. “She fainted.”

The man, presumably the volunteer’s brother-in-law and a firefighter-medic, pulled back Darcy’s eyelids, then slid his fingers around her wrist, while looking at his watch. “Did she hit her head when she fell?”

“No, I caught her.”

“Is she on drugs? Any kind of medication?”

“Not that I know of.” He considered the question
more thoroughly. “She doesn’t take illegal drugs. She’s a nutritionist and rehabilitation trainer.”

“When did she last eat?”

“I don’t know. She usually has lunch with the team, though. That couldn’t have been more than half an hour ago.”

I need to call Bryan.

The thought zipped through Mitch’s mind as the medic continued to take Darcy’s vital signs and assess her condition.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, lurching to his feet and drawing his cell phone out of his pocket.

His fingers froze on the keys. Bryan was most likely working in the garage. He wouldn’t answer his cell phone. Ditto for Sam or any of the other team members.

Rachel. Or Parker. Better yet, both.

He dialed Rachel first. She picked up before the first ring was over. “Hey, Dad, how’s—”

“How quickly can you get to Bryan?”

“Last time I saw him, he and Sam were in Cade’s garage stall. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Get him and bring him to the hospitality village. Darcy fainted.”

There was a shocked gasp, then she said, “We’ll be right there. I’m heading toward Bryan now. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I asked her to come with me to an event honoring firefighters and the next thing I know, she’s—”

“Dad,” Rachel interrupted quietly.

“What? Maybe she didn’t eat lunch. She’s always cooking, but I assume she eats, too. Did you see her? What—”