Winning Ruby Heart

by Jennifer Lohmann

  “Dotty, come!”

  Her dog looked confused for a moment, then figured out the correct direction and ran alongside Ruby for a lap. At the finish, Micah was mimicking filing his nails.

  “You may have won the race,” Ruby said, “but I get karma points for saving a straying dog.”

  “Dotty would have figured out which way to run, or at least gotten in another lap.”

  They fell into some slow laps around the track, each one of them catching their breath, with Micah and Ruby arguing about whether or not Ruby got karma points and, if she did, if they were worth a dollar. Ruby lost the argument, as she’d known she would, and interrupted her break to get Micah more money.

  “Two dollars,” he called, holding up his fingers in a V. “I want my two dollars.”

  She returned to the track, slapped the bills in his hand and jokingly asked if he was going to follow her to the ski slopes for his two dollars, acknowledging the reference he’d made to Better Off Dead.

  “Maybe. They make adaptive skis. I grew up in Arizona, so I don’t know how to ski, but I’d learn if you were there.”

  Ruby turned her head so quickly to look at him that she worried she’d strained something in her neck. He’d been hot and cold and hot and cold and she’d been having such a hard time getting a read on him. “If you were there” was definitely hot. Except now he was muttering nonsense to her dog as if he hadn’t just implied they should take a ski vacation together.

  A ski vacation was not research for any NSN series involving her—it was a futuristic statement about their relationship once this series was over. This stupid series, which she’d agreed to out of spite and was now regretting. Or, not regretting so much as feeling the burden of being on TV again and the exponential increase in awful things said about her on Reddit for the weeks following her small-screen appearance. And this stupid series that had been Micah’s excuse for becoming a different person for several months.

  Unfair, Ruby. She had been career driven for years. It hadn’t served her well, but that wasn’t Micah’s fault. Only...she wished their relationship wasn’t caught in the cross fire. She wished they could always be as free and easy with each other as they were right now.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Micah pulled out the three bills he’d stuffed in his shirt and held them toward her. “I’ve got three dollars, so I can afford a lot of thoughts.”

  “Nothing. No thoughts to tell.” Which was a lie.

  “We have more laps to do,” she added. Which was truer than her statement that nothing was on her mind.

  Her worrying took all the fun out of the last of their laps. She still lost every race, but the banter was gone and even Micah’s wicked sense of humor couldn’t bring it back. Every dollar bill she handed over only rubbed salt into the wound.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “ARE YOU CRAZY? You changed your registration from Diana to Ruby?” Micah stopped undoing his gloves and looked at Ruby, who was seated on the bench at the edge of the track. The crazy woman. Certifiable. With no sense of self-preservation. And in desperate need of a manager or agent. “For your safety, we release information about the races you’re running when I say we do.”

  And she had the nerve to lift her head from her shoelaces, her face tightened in anger. “I thought you said you weren’t going to try to cage me.”

  The Velcro on his right glove made a harsh, satisfying noise as he ripped the fastenings. “I thought you said you would be sensible and not take unnecessary risks.”

  The line between promoting Ruby’s story and having another network at a race, releasing better video, was narrow. Especially since NSN didn’t have exclusivity contracts with any ultra race. No network did. King’s big mouth didn’t help, despite all of Dexter’s interference. And the secrecy wasn’t just so NSN could sit on one of the biggest sporting news stories of the year until they were ready to milk it for all the ratings it was worth, but also because Micah had argued that maintaining a low profile was for Ruby’s safety.

  The interview had exposed her, but once the NSN series was filmed and aired, there’d be enough goodwill around her name to offset the negative comments. The NSN story would change how the public interpreted the Ruby story—and public opinion was gold.

  “This is necessary.” She turned her attention back to the knot in her laces, as though this argument wasn’t even worth having. “I may be redefining myself and my life, but I know myself well enough to know that Ruby Heart is a runner.”

  “No one is saying you’re not a runner. Between the shelter, coaching Eric and your own training, you run more than ten miles a day. Hell, NSN is banking on you being a runner and on people getting behind you being a runner. But we’re also invested in your safety.” He gritted his teeth against his anger, and a sour taste he recognized as fear. “Controlling the message, Ruby. I’m here to help you control the message.” Micah threw his gloves into his kit bag.

  “Has it escaped you that I am the message and so perhaps I should decide what name I’m running under?” She matched his irritation with a throw of her running shoes into her gym bag. After losing to him all afternoon, she won this contest—his gloves couldn’t compete with her shoes for irritated-statement power. “And I thought the message was that I’m back and I’m running and I don’t care what anyone thinks about it. I thought the message was that I’m reformed and I can take my place in society again.”

  “That is the message. We’re also trying to control how it’s released.”

  “How angry do you think people will be when they find out I’m running races as Diana Heart? Do you think they’re going to believe in my honesty?”

  He ignored both her argument and the perfect reasonability of it. “I’ve had a hell of a time convincing NSN to sit on this series until after your one-hundred-mile race. They want to run it now, in bits on SportsDaily, without building in the sympathy story I’ve been writing for you. I’ve had to convince them that this story, my story, would get better ratings.”

  She arched her brow at him. “I’m sorry? Better ratings? When you started this argument, the issue was my safety. Or is my safety code word for ‘there’s no story if Ruby is dead’?”

  Micah gripped his wheels before he gave in to his urge to shake them at her. “Don’t be stupid. You as my lead is gold. You as my lead because you’re dead is the forty-niners, ‘strike it rich never have to work again’ kind of gold.”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “Better ratings for one night, but not as good long-term.”

  His hands flew up and out at her. If he couldn’t shake some sense into her, the least he could do was mimic shaking sense into her. “Could we get away from the idea that this is all about my ratings? I care about more than just the ratings.”

  “I remember. You care about me. And you care about conflict of interest, too. I get that. Buds. We’re buds and that’s good. I’m still racing under my own name next week.”

  Argh. He pulled the skin of his face, stretching it as much as Ruby was stretching his nerves. “You of all people should know that one bad moment can ruin a career. And my career is important to me. You should get that, too.”

  The muscles of her face softened to match her voice. “I get that. I do. But then you get it all and you get it all on your timetable. And I get buddy Micah because I can’t have Micah and be the star of your series. But it’s my life, too. At the very least, my name is my own to have control over.”

  “What’s the big deal about running under your own name right now? The big race is in March. Can’t you wait until after that?”

  “Do you sit in your wheelchair while on camera?”

  She might as well have printed out and handed over a map, because he could follow the trajectory of her argument as sure as if she’d given him directions. “Being on camera in my chair was a hard-fought battl
e, and I’m not even sure I won. It’s true, I get to be me on camera and it’s important for people to know and see me, but every time a NSN reporter who is not me does a story on an athlete with a disability, people email the network to ask if I died and they missed the obit. Because crippled athletes are surely the beat of the crippled reporter and no one else.”

  “But I’ll bet you wouldn’t go back. If I’m going to move forward, I can’t keep living as if I’m in the past. And that means that for good or bad, I have to perform as me.”

  “I’m not the one getting rape threats online.”

  “No one’s ever acted on it.”

  “Yet.” Micah said the word he knew Ruby was thinking. “Ultra races have long stretches where it’s just you and the trees. That makes you an easy target.”

  “And he won’t be able to catch me.” She said the words with all the confidence of an Olympian and medalist and a woman who had run faster than all the boys until she hit college.

  “It might not be a footrace, Ruby.”

  “Look,” she said, slapping her hands against her legs, “I refuse to be trapped. Besides, anyone who wants to threaten me can find me here if they really want to. And I’d rather be out running a race.”

  “Yeah, exposed, tired and possibly hallucinating. At least here you have a dog with you.”

  “I’ve not yet hallucinated while racing.”

  “Yet is the key word there again.”

  “You’ll be there.”

  “I’ll be there at the start and at the finish with Amir and a production van. What good are we to you when you’re in the woods?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve done it and I’m not undoing it. I don’t want to undo it. I’m sick of not being me.”

  “I just...” He shrugged, not entirely sure how to express what he was feeling because he didn’t understand it himself. “I would love to sit in that SportsDaily anchor chair, but not if it means you’ve been discovered dead in a ditch somewhere along the side of the road. Call me crazy for wanting to see you finish the race. For wanting to see you win the race.”

  “Oh.” Her brown eyes got soft and gooey and he could tell that he’d surprised her, especially since he’d been so careful to maintain a professional distance between them.

  He didn’t even try to follow the uncomfortable unburdening of his emotions with a kiss or a come-on to make him feel more in control of the situation. Because he wasn’t in control. Ruby wasn’t in control. They had a path laid out in front of them, and anything beyond the next bend was completely hidden. And as risky as it was, he liked traveling on that path with her and he hoped their paths didn’t diverge.

  And if that wasn’t already a conflict of interest, he didn’t know what was.

  “Yeah. I’m willing to sacrifice my story for your safety. Why are we fighting about this?”

  Her nose twitched and her eyes darted around the track as she searched for an escape. Now that Ruby Heart had discovered she’d been imprisoned, it seemed she mistook any attempt to express concern or caring as another steel bar set into her world.

  He sped up his words so he could finish what he wanted to say before she accused him of trying to cage her again. “I’m doing my best to respect your right to your decision. I really am, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

  “I’ll be fine. Really,” she said, though her repeated attempts to reassure him weren’t comforting. “I’ve been here before. And these men, they talk big, but follow-through requires more balls than they’ve got. The worst that will happen is that one of the other runners will call me a cheat and tell me I don’t belong. And they’ll be right about at least half of that statement.”

  But he could tell by the shadows falling across her face that she didn’t believe her reassurances any more than he did. “But thanks for caring about me.” She reached over and patted his leg, as she had in the car, only this time she didn’t remember that she might as well be patting the bench for all the comfort it gave him.

  Yet another sign that Ruby Heart thought she was doing something stupid and was determined to do it anyway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  TWO WEEKS LATER, Micah sat at the starting line watching Ruby shake out her muscles. Though he’d been in this very position before, this time was different. Ruby knew he was watching, and she didn’t dart behind other runners or offer him a challenge in her glance before darting off into the distance. If he wasn’t mistaken, the look Ruby was giving him after she’d finished warming up could best be described as “come hither.”

  Damned story. They would be playing games with each other until the stupid series was over...or he broke.

  Micah rolled his way over the dirt and rocks through the crowd, the wide berths spectators gave his wheelchair working to his advantage as he scanned the crowd. “For what?” he muttered to himself. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.” It wasn’t as if he was a cop, or even an investigative reporter.

  He supposed he was looking for someone with as much interest in watching Ruby as he had. Maybe more. Being about four foot ten in the chair meant watching people’s facial expressions required him to torque his head. One guy in a gray sweatshirt was looking in Ruby’s direction, but when Micah turned his head to follow the man’s gaze, he saw another man wave, and the gray-sweatshirt man waved back. Not interested in Ruby but in the person next to Ruby.

  He wove his way in and out of people chatting and pointing, examining each face, so it was pure luck that he noticed one man’s hands clenched tightly in two fists. The force with which the man clenched his hands was evident in the tightness of his arms and how his shoulders played patty-cake with his earlobes. The man’s muscles twitched and he looked around. Micah didn’t bother trying to hide his interest; a man in a wheelchair was only considered a threat when people assumed he was homeless, and even then he would be ignored. This man reacted no differently to Micah. His gaze went right over his head, and so Micah was able to follow the man’s interest right back to Ruby.

  Could it be this easy?

  Micah almost missed the gun’s bang that signaled the start of the race. Ruby darted forward, only not nearly with as much push as she usually did. He looked back at The Man, who was watching Ruby intently enough for Micah to almost believe the force of his stare was holding her back. When Ruby was out of view, The Man’s shoulders relaxed and he took a sip from his Starbucks cup, and Micah was left wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing.

  * * *

  RUBY HAD PUSHED herself a little and, at the halfway mark, was maybe fifteen minutes behind the lead woman. She was fatigued and her body hurt, but she had run twenty-five miles and she wasn’t any more tired than she expected to be. Rethinking her strategy and the finish, Ruby slowed down a little to conserve energy for the end. There were at least three other women between her and the lead woman. She wasn’t here to win—she was here to prove that America’s Darling could run under her own name and that she could finish with other elite runners.

  But every time the words win and finish flittered through her mind, Ruby’s chest puffed out in anticipation. Greater. Faster. As she caught up to three men in front of her, she clamped down on her competitiveness to stay in line with them. At least until the next aid station, and then she’d pass them.

  Up around the bend that marked the official halfway point, she spied Micah and waved. He lowered a set of binoculars to his lap and waved back. After she had been weighed, he rolled over to her with a water bottle and granola bar. At the previous aid stations, Ruby had taken her food and run. But this time she decided to stop long enough for support from a friend and to discard the empty water bottles from her belt.

  “You’re holding back,” he said, taking the water bottle from her outstretched hand and handing her another full one to tuck into her belt.

  “I need to save
my energy for the finish.” She shifted her weight back and forth on her feet, trying to keep her legs loose and warm. The weather was cool, and the difference in temperature between the chill of the air and the heat of her body could cause cramping if she wasn’t careful. “Besides, I’m not trying to win. I want a competitive time.”

  He raised both his eyebrows at her, looking thoroughly disgusted with her excuse. “The first time you ran was to see if you could. The second time was to beat your time and be competitive. How about trying to win this time? You’re not that far behind the lead woman.”

  Ruby took a large, angry bite of the granola bar and chewed, her irritation coming out in every chomp. “To make your interview a bigger success?”

  His only response was a lift of his eyebrows.

  “Let me worry about my strategy,” she said, which was as close to a peace offering as she could handle right now.

  “I hope your anger fuels you to run faster,” he said evenly, as if she’d never spoken in anger. “I can sell your story no matter how you finish, and if that’s all I cared about I wouldn’t be at this station—without Amir—handing you a granola bar.”

  “You’re right,” she said, before taking another bite. Micah was here with water and food. He’d given her a lift to the race. And, most important, she wouldn’t be on her own for dinner tonight. “I’ve not had the luxury of running one of these races with a support team before. I do appreciate it.”

  She hadn’t been keeping an eye on the trio of men she’d headed into the aid station with the way she should have. When she looked up, they were out of her view, so she took a last swig of water and shoved the bottle and the granola wrapper at Micah, then took off, going slightly faster than she had before without ruining her rhythm. If she was steady but faster, she’d catch them.