They’d asked Sam and Frank to come along for several reasons. Sam was a huge fan of drag racing but recently came to Hinman Racing when he heard the circulating rumors about a possible new driver joining their team. Frank was invited along for another purpose. Julie respected him. He was, in many ways, like the father she never had.
“Frank,” she whispered, a flash of genuine appreciation softening her cold, empty eyes as soon as he rounded the front of the SUV. “What brings you up this way?”
Frank shot her a gentle smile. He hurried toward her with open arms. “I heard my little girl was getting released today.”
“Uh-huh,” she muttered, embracing him. “And let me guess, you couldn’t make the trip from Tennessee alone? Either that or the Hinmans were afraid they couldn’t handle me.” She quickly released him as she tossed out the accusation.
Poor Frank looked ambushed for about a minute. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and bowed his head. He lifted his gaze again and his eyes met hers. They were moist, but not because he felt sorry for Julie. Oh no, those piercing black eyes with folds of wrinkles underneath held nothing but love for a woman he often called “his” little girl.
Julie was visibly shaken by the old man’s expression. She tilted her head to one side and said, “You have to overlook me, Frank. I’ve been in a bad mood for the last ninety days or so.”
“Me, too, little girl. Me, too.”
Duke was touched by the older man’s reply. Frank tucked Julie’s free hand against the bend of his arm. “I have a feeling we have brighter days ahead.” He took a first step toward their rented vehicle, but Julie resisted.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Frank asked, studying her face.
Julie shook her head. “I know what you’re doing, Frank, and I can’t let you manipulate me like this.”
“Can’t and won’t are two different beasts. If you can’t because you’re disabled—and you aren’t, by the way, which is obvious—then that’s one thing. If you won’t because you’re stubborn as a damn mule, or even scared, then that’s somethin’ we’ll overcome together. We always do.”
“I ain’t scared, Frank.”
“Well that remains to be seen, I reckon,” Frank said, nodding toward the car. “Thing is, if you get in that backseat there, you belong to Hinman Racing. You ain’t backin’ out, because I won’t let you. We’ve got a plane waitin’ at the airport ready to fly all of us to Nashville. Hinmans have a nice little practice track over in Columbia, and I happen to think you’ll like it there.”
Julie gulped. “I’m not racing again.”
Frank took a deep breath, studied Hank and Duke for a moment, and just when Duke thought the old man might give up, he came back with a full-fledged rebuttal. “I hope you never sit down in a dragster again. I told you from the time you set your sights on a-racin’ that dragsters were no good. You wouldn’t listen. I tried to tell you, but that’s yesterday’s conversation. Today, I’m gonna spout off and say what I should’ve said then.
“I think you could be one of the best stock car drivers the sport has ever seen. You’re gutsy, smart, and have good instincts, remarkable reflexes. You grew up around stock cars and horses, Julie. How the hell you ended up inches off the damn ground in one of those death traps beats the beejeezies out of me, but you were determined to do things your way.
“Now, I want you to try something different. Give stock cars a shot. You tried your way. Now it’s time to try mine.”
“Don’t you mean theirs?” she asked, pointing at Hank and then Duke.
Hank cleared his throat. “Julie, we’ve got a car that’s unbeatable. We need a driver that wants to win.”
“Since when did you start giving handouts, Hank?” She addressed Hank but looked at Duke.
“This ain’t charity,” Duke said, feeling a strong “no” was inevitable. Julie had already been here and done this. She wasn’t a woman who typically jumped backwards.
Julie pressed her lips together. She studied Sam and after a brief moment of strained silence, she asked, “Who are you?”
Sam stuck out his hand. “I’m Sam McMann. I followed your career in drag racing. No one out there had your skill. I just joined Hinman Racing because I want to work with you. If you’ll give these fellas a chance, I think we’ll put together an unconquerable team.”
Immediately, Frank glared at Sam. Duke felt that sudden stabbing sensation in his gut, too. Julie never once raised her arm and shook his hand. Instead she stared at his splayed fingers and then tilted her chin and looked away.
“You joined Hinman Racing because the word is out, isn’t it?” When he didn’t respond, she addressed Hank. “You told him I was definitely joining your team.”
Hank narrowed his gaze and rubbed his chin, taking his own sweet time providing a reply. “I promised Frank he could handle you but the truth is, I don’t want anyone to handle you except me or Duke. Now, you can say no to Hinman Racing. That’s your choice, and if you decide to turn down the offer we put on the table, it’ll be your loss.
“But Hinman Racing is offering one deal. Me and Duke? We’re offering something else altogether. We moved our entire team from Daytona to Columbia because we have better facilities there. We’ve got a car with your name on it. We’ve got a room decorated to your tastes, and a physical therapist already relocated to the guest house, which has been converted into a rehab facility.
“Whether you drive for us later or not, you’re going home with us. You’ll see the group effort that’s gone into the Columbia farm. I think you’ll appreciate the people who made our place comfortable enough for you. Now, like I said, you’ve got two deals here—Hinman Racing and Hinman men. One is negotiable. The other, isn’t. Accept it.”
Julie’s eyes were wide. She held her head as high as she could manage and squared her shoulders. “I’ve experienced the Hinman men and believe me, I was less than impressed. What makes you think I won’t feel the same about Hinman Racing?”
Duke grunted but then put aside the blow she delivered. “The team is just that, a group effort, and our guys are winning races. Hinman Racing isn’t just me and Hank. It’s a conglomerate of the best mechanics, designers, and engineers in the business. Best I remember, you always liked team sports, Julie.”
“I used to,” she said thoughtfully. “Things have changed. You’re looking at a woman who had her life flash in front of her. There’s more to life than racing.”
“Maybe,” Duke said, not buying her reply for a second. “But there’s more racing left in you, too. So what’d ya say?”
“No,” she said firmly, looking the other way. “No all the way around.”
“That’s about what we figured you’d say,” Hank remarked, inching closer and closing the distance between him and Julie. “For the record, the racing we’re willing to talk about. The other part, sugar, isn’t open for discussion. I thought I explained that well enough. Apparently, I didn’t.”
Duke strolled toward her, grabbed her around the waist, and lifted her into his arms. At the same time, Hank removed the wooden cane from her small hand.
Seconds later, Duke secured her against his shoulder. “I never took you for a quitter, Julie. And like it or not, you don’t have a choice right now. You’re not quitting on us before you get started. You did that once already. I don’t have the stomach to watch you walk away from the people you love all over again.”
Chapter Two
The next day
Columbia, Tennessee
Julie dreamt of revving engines. She heard the squealing of tires, the magnificent sounds of a rumbling crowd cheering for their favorite drivers. Her mind’s eye captured clips of a round track, probably a half-mile or so, completely packed with bumper-to-bumper stock cars. A checkered flag was raised high in the air, and then an explosion took her back to the car she knew best—her dragster. A fiery storm replaced what might have been something substantial in terms of a win, a strong finish, or something positive to overshadow the gloom and
despair which became her reality.
Her wreck was then in vivid color. She saw the wall, heard the crash, and the fumes were as strong and as suffocating as they’d been on the day she wrecked. Gasping, she came out of the bed, clutching to the sheets and screaming at the top of her lungs.
Her eyes were wide. She saw a huge form coming toward her right before someone shook her.
“Julie!” he shouted. “Julie! Wake up! It’s Hank! You’re having a bad dream!”
When she came out of her sleepy stupor, her face was damp. Her arms were looped around Hank’s neck and her body rocked in one continual tremor. The violent ramifications of a horrific dream wracked her body and threw her into turmoil. She was still spinning around and around. Even though she realized where she was, who was holding her tightly against his chest, she couldn’t leave behind the nightmare she’d lived, the bad dreams that continued to haunt her.
“Shh,” Hank whispered, stroking her back. “I’ve got ’cha, baby. I’ve got ’cha.”
“Hank,” she choked out.
“Yes, it’s me,” he said, swaying back and forth.
A few seconds passed before she pushed him away. “Of course it’s you!” she screamed, unable to stop herself from the anger enveloping her. “Who else would be ballsy enough to pull this stunt?”
Hank jerked. He looked confused, but his expression quickly changed. He rose from the bed, walked over to the door, slammed it, and returned immediately where he took a seat on the mattress. After he crossed his muscular arms and set his stiff jaw, she realized he planned on staying a while.
Reaching for tissues beside her bed, Julie wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. Tossing the damp paper to the wastebasket, she said, “I don’t like company while I’m sleeping.”
“We got that in common,” he muttered, his jade eyes dancing with the memories he apparently wanted her to acknowledge.
She recalled them without much effort. The last time she was in his bed, he’d asked her to leave, told her he needed to get a good night’s sleep, and she’d left him with a promise. He’d never have to worry about her outstaying her welcome again.
If only she’d known then how eventually, no thanks to their current living arrangements, he’d make a liar out of her.
“I remember that about you,” she grumbled, tossing the covers over her head and rolling over to her sore left side. “You never wanted to cuddle in the mornings, and you often skipped foreplay. Man, you made some woman a happy wife, didn’t you?”
“I’m not married yet, and you know this.”
“How would I know anything about you, Hank? We lost touch. We didn’t write or call. If memory serves me correctly, I didn’t get a postcard, never sent an e-mail.” She took a deep breath and decided against picking an extended argument. She thought about reaching for the pill bottle located next to her bed but decidedly preferred a clear head, something she hadn’t desired often since her accident.
The discomfort was often more than she could bear, but managing her pain was easier with distractions. Hank provided an alternative to drugs, although she wasn’t sure if he was the lesser of two evils.
In terms of addictions, she felt confident she could beat a potential pill problem. A Hinman dependence was worse than any substance abuse imaginable. After all this time apart, Julie was certain of one thing—she’d never kick the habit.
“You’ll work with your physical therapist this morning.”
“I just got here yesterday afternoon. I can’t—”
Hank yanked the coverlet away from her head. “I don’t remember asking you if you wanted to work with Don—he’s your PT, by the way—and I don’t think I said please. Get your pretty little ass up and meet him downstairs in thirty minutes. The two of you should be done by noon. I’ll meet you out by the track around then.”
“I’m not racing!” she shouted, slapping her palm against the mattress.
“I see some things never change,” Hank said, glaring at her hand. “I never said you were sliding behind the wheel today. I just said I’ll meet you around twelve.”
She grunted, flipped over, though it was more like a slow roll, and buried her head under the pillow. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, aware her muffled voice made her sound like a helpless child.
“Because you would do the same for me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I wouldn’t, Hank.”
“Yes you would,” he assured her, caressing her back. “And I’d love you for it.”
“Humph, you wouldn’t know love if it looked you square in the eye.”
Hank slowly removed the comforter she used in order to hide. Then, he gently lifted the pillow. She stared into a soft gaze, one rarely found in a Hinman.
“I think I would.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and left.
About that time, the jingle jangle of spurs alerted her to the man behind a cowboy’s walk. Duke Hinman entered her room seconds later. “Rise and shine, gorgeous,” he sang, raising the window overlooking the barnyard. “We’ve got a surprise for you down at the stables.”
“I don’t like surprises,” she grumbled.
“And I have a hard time with grumpy women.”
“I’m serious.” She should’ve added that she owned her share of issues with domineering, egotistical cowboys.
“Okay, I’ll play along. Best I remember, you loved to be caught off guard. When did that change?”
“You have to ask?” she questioned him, using her hands to move her legs to the side of the bed.
He pointed toward her lower body. “You know you’re pretty damn lucky. Be thankful for what you’ve got and for what you didn’t lose.”
“Why, because a doctor told me I’d never walk again, and I beat the odds?”
“No, because you lived to come here and argue with me. A lot of women would pay to be sitting right there staring at me right now.”
“I worry about you, Duke. You lack confidence, self-esteem, and a cowboy’s cocksure attitude. How do you get by?”
“I ask myself that very question every single day.”
“I’m sure,” she said, reaching for her cane.
Duke grabbed the wooden crutch before her hand landed on the curve hook shaping the top. “You don’t need that.”
“Yes I do.”
“Not today,” he said, tossing the stick away. He held out his arm. “I’ll help you.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“You may not, but you have my assistance anyway.”
She teetered around, grabbing for the nightstand in an effort to keep from falling. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m here for Frank. I’m trying this because if I didn’t, Frank would somehow feel like he let me down. He carried a lot of guilt and blame after the accident. I’m not here for you or your brother. I’m here because Frank is like a father to me and he asked me to come, expected it really.”
“Frank isn’t to blame. Hank and I accept that responsibility.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I chose to leave here.” A beat later, she added, “And even though you tossed me over your back and acted like Rambo, I still made the choice to come home with you. I can leave whenever I want. I’ll walk out of here in the middle of the night if I have to.”
“Don’t you mean hobble?”
“Fuck you, Duke.”
“You might,” he said, his eyes flickering with a hint of lust. “On second thought, that’s probably a given.”
She grated back bad words then and thought of all sorts of nasty names she wanted to call him. Duke sat on the chair next to the bed, shifting his hips back and forth until he was obviously comfortable. He kicked up his dusty boots and studied them as he crossed his ankles, observing his spurs as if they were the most interesting accessory he’d ever purchased.
“You can’t just come in my room and make yourself right at home.”
“I am at home so yeah, I can pretty much do anything I want whenever I take the notion.�
�� After a good stare down, he added, “And about leaving here in the middle of the night? I’ll talk with Hank and see if we can’t do something about these sleeping arrangements as soon as possible. I’d hate for you to get it in your blasted head that you want out of here.”
“I’m not sleeping with either of you.”
He shrugged. “It’s a precautionary measure really.” He looked at his fingernails and picked at the cuticles. “It’s a dangerous world out there.” He studied the pill bottles on her nightstand and finally added, “Besides, what if you have a reaction to your medication and find yourself wandering around outside without any direction? We can’t have that. I couldn’t live with myself if you got lost in the middle of the night. What if you couldn’t find your way home?”
“I can live without the sarcasm.”
“It’s true. Hank and I went out of our way to get you back. We’ll have to do our best to protect you while you’re here.”
“From myself?”
“If need be,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.
She sat again. “Duke, why are you doing this?”
He shifted and his boots rocked, a clump of mud falling to the floor. She grunted when she saw the mess he’d left on a new pale pink rug. “I’m not able to clean up after you anymore.”
“I’d never ask you. Besides, in case you haven’t heard, we’re rich enough for housekeeping services now. We’ve got a maid who’ll be at your beck and call, twenty-four-seven, while you’re staying with us.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “Real fine.” A beat later she looked closer at the glob of mud and decided it was manure. She wrinkled her nose. “I’d still appreciate it if you didn’t track up my room.”
He shrugged. “I’ll work on my bad habits if you’ll try to overcome yours.”
“I don’t have any.”
“Oh yes you do,” he said, a singsong quality to his voice. “You’ve become the grumpiest woman this side of the Mississippi, and I don’t like it.”
“Well damn,” she drawled. “Imagine how disappointed I am to find out you’re displeased with me.”
Acres, Natalie - Bang the Blower [Country Roads 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2
