by Robin Wells
“The pressure must be pretty intense. It’s an awfully dangerous sport, isn’t it?”
His head bobbed in a single nod. “One mistake out there and it’s all over.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Nah. Not for myself. I’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Right,” Frannie said dryly. “Just your life.” “Well, yeah, I suppose there’s that.” Austin shot her a rakish grin. “Or my mind. A few more head injuries, and there won’t be enough brain cells left to worry with.”
Frannie felt a surge of alarm. “You’ve been injured?”
“Oh, sure. I don’t think there’s a serious racer out there that hasn’t hit the wall or had a bad crash or two. It happens.”
“Doesn’t that worry you when you get behind the wheel?”
Austin shook his head. “Once I strap on that helmet, there’s no room for worry. There’s no room for thinking about anything but driving. It takes total concentration. That’s the thing I like best about it, I guess.”
“But while you’re concentrating, you still have to be aware of the risks.”
“Well, sure, but I don’t dwell on them. Like I said, I’ve got nothing to lose—no family to worry about, no wife, no kids. Aside from my pit crew, no one in the world is depending on me. And my crew could find other jobs in a heartbeat if something happened to me.”
The flat, matter-of-fact tone of his voice sent a chill up Frannie’s arms. “I can’t believe you can talk about your life like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s expendable.”
Austin shrugged. “Well, I guess it is. It’s of no value to anyone but me. And I like it that way.”
She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t help herself. “Why?”
“I don’t have to worry about hurting anyone else.”
“You could hurt another racer.”
Austin nodded solemnly. “Yeah. But I try to look at it this way—out on the track, it’s an even playing field. Everyone knows the odds. Everyone’s taking the same risks. So I just show up and do my best, and so far, my luck’s held out.”
“Sounds like an awfully lonely life.”
“It’s all I’ve ever known. Besides, having nothing to lose gives me a winning edge.”
Frannie gazed at him, trying to fathom the emptiness of a life that wasn’t connected to anyone else’s in any profound kind of way. “I can’t imagine living that way.”
Austin shrugged. “It’s easy when you’re accustomed to it.”
Frannie gazed at him. “What happened to your family?”
“I never had much of one. I was an only child, and my mother left when I was six.”
“What do you mean, left?”
“Left. Went away.”
Something hard in his tone of voice warned Frannie not pursue the line of questioning. She decided to take another tack. “What about your dad?”
“He died when I was sixteen.” Austin squirmed on his seat and cut a glance at Frannie. “So tell me about your family. Do your parents live at the Big Sky?”
It was an obvious ploy to change the subject, but Frannie decided to go along with it. Maybe she could get him to tell her more about his family later. “No. My folks have a house about a mile from the bed-and-breakfast, but right now they’re out of town. My dad’s mom had hip replacement surgery, and they’re in Minnesota helping her get back on her feet.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“One older brother. David’s with the F.B.I. in Atlanta. And I have three cousins who seem like sisters.”
“I’ve met Summer and Jasmine.”
Frannie nodded. “And the other one is Cleo. She runs the day care center in town. She just got married, so she’s off on an extended honeymoon with her new husband and his little boy.”
Austin shot her an interested glance as he turned the truck onto a side road. “Must be nice, having a large family. What are your parents like?”
Frannie grinned. “A couple of overgrown kids.”
“Yeah?” Austin’s eyes were amused. “In what way?”
“Oh, they’re outgoing and fun-loving and free-spirited.” Frannie smiled. “Sometimes I used to feel like our roles were reversed, like I was the parent and they were the children. They were always trying to get me to go out and have fun. I’ve always been kind of quiet and reserved and serious.”
“What line of work are they in?”
“Dad is an architect, and Mom helps Aunt Celeste run the B and B. Despite their careers, though, they’re both really spontaneous and adventurous. They’re a perfect match. They have a really close, loving marriage—the kind I hope to have some day.”
“How did you come to live at the B and B?”
“I spent so much time there when I was growing up that it felt like a second home. In fact, I started doing bookkeeping for the place when I was fifteen. After I graduated from college, Celeste offered me free room and board in exchange for continuing to keep the books. I didn’t like living alone and I was spending all my free time there anyway, so it was a perfect solution.”
“It’s a grand old house. Has it been in your family long?”
“Quite a while. Aunt Celeste and her late husband bought it before any of the kids were born. She and Mom ran it, figuring it’d be a good way to earn a living while raising a family—which it was. In addition to their own children, Aunt Celeste and Mom raised Summer, their late sister’s child.”
“Sounds like your family is awfully close.”
Frannie grinned. “We are. We’re like a big wooly blanket—large, close-knit and warm.”
“When I was a kid, I used to like to pretend I had a family like that,” Austin said. “I never could really picture it, though.”
The wistfulness in his voice struck a chord within Frannie, a chord that reverberated right to her very soul.
The pickup slid to a halt, and Frannie was surprised to realize that they’d already arrived at the restaurant. “Stay put,” Austin said. “I’ll come around and get your door.”
Frannie watched him circle the truck, a single word echoing in her head: lonely. For all of his success, Austin Parker was a deeply lonely man.
And he seemed to prefer it that way. What was it he’d said? Having nothing to lose gives me a winning edge.
She walked beside him across the parking lot, wondering why she was so attracted to a man who’d clearly stated he didn’t want a deep relationship. And why was she so talkative around him? She was usually closed mouthed and bashful around people she didn’t know well, yet she’d talked a blue streak on the drive to the restaurant.
They were thoroughly unsuited for each other, complete opposites. She wanted a home and family, and he wanted the freedom of being unattached. He belonged to an exciting world of fame and fast cars, while she craved anonymity and quiet.
So why did she feel more drawn to this man than to anyone she’d ever met?
The restaurant hostess seated them beside a window overlooking a portion of Blue Mirror Lake. The water was calm and dark, and the sky held a slight cast of purple as the sun sank into the horizon.
“What a wonderful view,” Frannie sighed.
“I was thinking the same thing.” She looked up to find Austin’s gaze fastened on her face.
Frannie felt her skin heat, and she suddenly wished she’d taken more pains with her appearance. The amazing thing was that Austin seemed to think she was just fine the way she was. He was looking at her with a light in his eye, with real interest, as if he saw beyond her glasses, beyond her casual clothes, beyond her skin.
A warm shiver chased over her.
“Tell me about yourself, Frannie. Have you always lived in Whitehorn?”
Frannie nodded. “Except when I went away to college.”
“Where did you go?”
“Montana State University in Bozeman.” Frannie looked at him. “How about you?”
Austin shook his head. “Af
ter my old man died, I had to go to work to support myself. I didn’t even finish high school. I took correspondence courses and earned my high school diploma, but college wasn’t in the cards for me. I’ve always admired people with a lot of education.” He leveled his eyes at her, and she felt another thrill of attraction. “What did you major in?”
“Mathematical sciences and literature. I had a double major.”
Austin let out a soft whistle and shook his head. “You must be a real brain.”
Frannie shrugged. “I’ve just always loved math and reading.”
“Lots of folks love reading—I’m one of them—but I don’t know that I’ve ever heard anyone say they loved math before.”
Frannie smiled. “I know. I’ve always been something of an oddball. My parents used to fuss at me about it.”
“How?”
“Oh, when I was a kid, they were always pushing me to get my head out of my books and go outside and play. When I was a teenager, my mother lectured me about not being sociable enough.”
“You seem pretty sociable to me.”
It was true. Around him, she even felt sociable. It was odd, how he made her feel both unsettled and at ease. She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve always found it hard to make small talk. I never much saw the point in it. I guess I like my connections with people to be deep instead of plentiful.”
“I was kind of a loner, too. But I can’t say that I enjoyed math.”
“People think math is hard, but it’s not, not really. It can be fun, like doing puzzles or riddles. In fact, I’ve always wanted to write children’s books that illustrate that.”
“So why don’t you?”
“Actually, I have.” Frannie twisted the napkin in her lap, immediately embarrassed. Why had she told him that? No one else knew about the stack of papers stuffed in her bedside drawer.
“You’ve written some books?”
“Well, they’re not books, exactly. I mean, they’re not published. They’re just some pages I’ve written down.”
“What are they about?”
“Oh, nothing. I mean, they’re silly.”
Austin regarded her solemnly. “I promise not to laugh.”
“Well, actually, they’re supposed to be funny.”
“Then I’ll laugh like a hyena.”
Why had she ever opened her big mouth? Now she had to tell him or appear rude. “Well, they’re a series of stories about a baby kangaroo. He and his koala bear buddy make up games about numbers and fractions and percentages, games that the reader can play along with.”
“Are they illustrated?”
Frannie nodded, her face growing warm. “I’m no great artist, but I can draw cartoon figures. Like I said, the books are pretty silly.”
“Are they finished?”
“As finished as I can make them. I have three of them.”
“Have you sent them to any publishers?”
Frannie shook her head.
Why not?”
“Oh, I’d be embarrassed. They’re really not all that good.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, they’re just something I’ve been playing around with. I’m not a professional.”
“No one is when they first start out. Everyone has to begin somewhere.” Austin leaned forward. “What’s the worst that can happen if you send it to a publishing house?”
Frannie shrugged her shoulders.
“They can tell you no, that’s what. And then you could turn around and put those manuscripts right back in the mail and send them somewhere else.”
Frannie gave a sardonic smile. “So another publishing house can tell me no, too?”
“Maybe. But then again, they might just tell you yes.” Austin leaned back in his chair. “In order to have a chance of winning the race, Frannie, you’ve got to show up at the track.”
“But what if every children’s book publisher in the country tells me no?”
“Well, then, you use all the information you’ve gained and you try again. You write another book.” Austin looked at her intently. “What do you have to lose, except a few dollars on postage?”
Frannie felt her chest tighten. “My dream,” she said softly. “I could lose my dream.”
“But by not taking action, you’re losing the chance of ever making it a reality.”
There was no arguing with his logic. Still, a part of Frannie resisted. “lt’s just…” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Her finger toyed with a loose thread on the tablecloth. “I hate to be rejected.”
Austin’s hand covered hers, enveloping her with warmth. “Everyone does. And sooner or later, everyone is.”
An edge to his voice made her look up. His smile had faded, and his eyes held an intensity she hadn’t seen before.
“You sound like you’ve had personal experience with rejection,” she said softly.
“I have.”
“By whom?”
“Oh, no one important.” His mouth quirked into a mirthless smile. “Just my mother.”
Frannie’s heart turned in her chest. She wanted to ask him more, but he cut her off by picking up her menu and handing it to her. “The waiter is heading our way. We’d better decide what we’re going to eat.”
They’d just placed their order when Austin waved at someone in the doorway. Frannie turned to see a familiar man with handsome Native American features walking toward their table. “Hi, Austin,” the man said, extending his hand. “How’s it going?”
Austin stood and shook the man’s hand. “Great. Frannie, this is Jackson Hawk, the attorney for the Laughing Horse Reservation.”
“We know each other,” Frannie said, shaking the man’s hand. “Jackson is a good friend of Gavin’s.”
“Nice to see you, Frannie.”
“Good to see you, too.” Frannie looked from Jackson to Austin, then back again. “How do you two happen to know each other?”
“Austin came to the reservation and spoke to our boys’ club last week.” Jackson turned to Austin. “I can’t thank you enough, either. You made a big impression on some kids who were veering off in the wrong direction.”
Austin shrugged modestly. “Glad I could help.”
Frannie looked at him, her heart growing warm. The more she learned about him, the more she found to like. And it scared her to death.
“What did Austin talk about?” she found herself asking Jackson.
“The importance of hard work and goal-setting,” Jackson replied. “He gave a really inspiring speech.”
Frannie grinned. “Why, that’s the very same speech he was just giving me!”
Austin laughed, but he shifted uncomfortably.
Jackson smiled. “The kids listened to him in a way they won’t listen to other adults. Austin’s a great role model.”
Austin gazed at the tabletop. It was funny, Frannie mused, the praise seemed to embarrass him. Who would have guessed that a man in such a high-profile profession would be so modest and unassuming?
“Are you meeting someone here?” Austin asked Jackson, as if he were eager to change the topic.
Jackson nodded. “Lyle Brooks. To discuss some business.” “On a Sunday night?”
Jackson nodded and heaved a sigh. “Afraid so. Lyle is the contractor building the casino and resort, and he wants to talk about moving the location to a piece of land he owns further north.”
“I’ve met the illustrious Mr. Brooks,” Austin said. “He left me with a bad taste in my mouth.”
Jackson’s lips tilted in a dry smile. “He seems to have that effect on people.”
Austin’s brow pulled into a frown.”You say he wants to move the site? I thought he’d already begun construction on the resort.”
“He has. He’s blasted and cleared a forty-five-foot-deep construction pit.”
Frannie leaned forward. “That’s what the equipment operator fell into, isn’t it?”
Jackson nodded somberly. “It’s a real tragedy, and it’s bringi
ng a lot of unfavorable publicity to the project. That’s what Lyle says he wants to talk about. Because of that man’s death and an old skeleton that was found earlier on a nearby site, he thinks the land is cursed. He says it’ll bring the tribe bad luck if we build there.”
“Won’t it be expensive to move the site now?” Austin asked.
Jackson’s head bobbed again. “That’s the oddest part. Lyle said he’d absorb the cost for any extra work involved. Says it won’t cost the tribe a penny.” Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know what he’s up to, but he tried to wring every last nickel out of us when he negotiated the contract. It’s hard to believe he’s suddenly willing to swallow tens of thousands of dollars out of the goodness of his heart.”
“From what I saw of the man, it’s hard to believe he even has a heart,” Austin remarked. “He didn’t strike me as the kind of person likely to look out for anyone’s interests but his own.”
Jackson grinned. “I’d say you’re a shrewd judge of character, Austin.” He winked at Frannie. “Not to mention of women.” Jackson glanced toward the restaurant entrance. “There’s Lyle now. I’ll steer him toward the bar and see if a little bourbon will flush out his real motives.” He gave a little salute. “You two enjoy your dinner.”
Frannie watched Jackson head across the room. “I wonder what Lyle is really up to.”
“My guess is it’s some kind of scheme to pad his pockets.”
“Well, I hope he’s more careful in his business dealings than he is at driving.”
“I don’t think our little encounter with Lyle was a matter of carelessness. I think he was acting with cold-blooded deliberation.”
“What do you mean?”
“It looked to me like he was deliberately aiming for that dog.”
Frannie’s eyes widened. “Why would he do a thing like that?”
Austin shrugged. “For the sport of it. Some men have no conscience.” He leaned across the table. “I gotta tell you, you scared me to death when you dashed out in front of his car.”
