Winning Ruby Heart

by Jennifer Lohmann

  Love was more exhausting than he’d thought.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  MICAH’S NEWLY FREED-UP schedule meant he and Ruby had gotten to spend more time with one another outside of trips to the gym. They went on dates and spent nights together. Fortunately, Micah had done most of the work for the ultra series already, leaving only this final hundred-mile race for King and Amir to film before the series was over. In theory, there wasn’t much for King to fuck up. In practice, Micah didn’t trust the man at all. Especially since the race was about to start and King was nowhere to be found.

  Amir stood at the starting line with his camera and a large spotlight targeted on Ruby. Micah looked through the dark and the crowds for King. Not being present at the start of the big race, the climax of this entire series that NSN had put staff hours and lots of money into producing was inexplicable and inexcusable.

  The announcer began his countdown and Micah turned his attention to the woman he couldn’t have ever dreamed he would love, watching her shake her muscles and herself awake. Her goal was to run the hundred miles in seventeen hours, which would put her in line with the best ultra runners in the Midwest.

  After the NSN interviews, her presence in the sport was no longer a secret. A man Micah had remembered from the Missouri race greeted Ruby and seemed genuinely interested in the competition she would provide. Everyone else did their best to ignore her, though they gave her long glances out of the corners of their eyes.

  Ruby Heart, America’s Darling, was impossible to ignore.

  The starting gun went off and Ruby leaped in front of the male runner who’d been talking to her, her back straight, her arms pumping and bliss on her face. Micah wouldn’t see her again until the third aid station. The first and second aid stations had been deemed inaccessible, even by Micah’s standards. Josh would be waiting at those. Glancing at his watch, Micah judged that he had enough time to head back to the hotel and grab breakfast before he could reasonably expect Ruby at mile forty.

  Back at the hotel, he slipped his room key into the slot and opened his door. One of the benefits of being fired and having his relationship with Ruby out in the open was that hotel rooms, especially cheap hotel rooms, were better when shared. He wheeled himself through the door, smiling at Ruby’s clothes piled on the floor.

  A rustling noise came from the bathroom and Micah gripped the wheels of his chair, then quickly relaxed his hands, taking a deep breath. Whatever was in the bathroom was better handled with loose, agile muscles than clenched shoulders up around his ears. His wheels barely made a noise as he traversed the room to the bathroom, though whoever was in there seemed too engaged to notice anything. Hell, the person hadn’t even heard the door open.

  Before he had gotten into a position where he would be visible from the bathroom, Micah looked back over his shoulder and considered the door. If it had been open, maybe housekeeping was here. Only it was six in the morning and no hotel by the freeway supplied housekeeping this early in the morning. And the door had been shut. Sticking his key in the door to unlock it hadn’t been a figment of his imagination.

  Micah used his arms to push himself forward enough to be able to peek into the bathroom, then pulled back. King’s presence in his bathroom was as inexplicable as his absence had been from the race. However, King’s absence from the race could be explained away by incompetence—his presence in the bathroom could only be due to malice of some kind. Micah eased his phone out of his pocket and dialed nine-one-one. Then he set his phone on his lap and pushed himself into King’s view.

  King was so engrossed in his task that he only turned when a barely audible voice said, “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

  Micah replied in an even, clear broadcaster’s voice. “Someone has broken into my hotel room. They are still here.”

  King dropped what he had been holding and it shattered on the floor. His gaze was wild around the bathroom, not even stopping at Micah. Finally King said, “It’s not true. He broke into my hotel room.”

  “I’d love to hear you explain to the cops why you were assigned to a wheelchair-accessible room and how both my clothes and Ruby’s clothes came to be in here.”

  The operator’s voice said, “The police are on their way. Please identify which hotel room.”

  Micah said, “Four-oh-six” at the same time King said, “The police aren’t needed.” King kicked a large shard of glass over to Micah’s chair. “Look, Micah, we can discuss this on our own.”

  “Discuss what? You breaking into my room?”

  “You girlfriend is doping again and you know about it. The proof is in this room. And the cops are coming. Good.” King brightened. “I’ll call Amir and he can be here when they arrest her.”

  Micah examined the bathroom, taking in all the details, including the small addition of a needle package and some medical tubing. Not enough to be absolute proof, but enough to be damaging to Ruby’s reputation. And his. “How much effort did you put into this frame job, King Ripley?” Micah enunciated his coworker’s name, all the better for the taping device to capture in the nine-one-one office. “Is there a needle in the trash with Ruby’s DNA on it? Or is this just to tarnish her reputation, not to actually put her in jail?”

  “You’re the only person who gives a fuck about Ruby’s reputation. She’s another in a long line of doping athletes. But she will make my career. And it could have been your career, but you were stupid enough to climb into bed with her. How long did it take her to convince you to help her with the transfusions after you started sleeping together? She had you pegged. All that medical knowledge you’ve acquired with your, your...”

  “Disability is the commonly accepted word. Paraplegia would be medically accurate.” Micah shut his mouth before King remembered the phone was still on and the operator on the other end was still listening. The man was doing a fine job talking himself into a hole without Micah getting in the way.

  “Whatever. You don’t really belong at NSN, you know. A pity hire who kept getting promoted. You only got that original Ruby story because of the chair. It should have gone to me.”

  “So this whole thing is about me?”

  That a couple people around the office agreed with King’s rant was no secret—no matter that Micah had never shied away from a story, had never been late with a story and generally worked as hard if not harder than his colleagues. The pity-hire charge would hang over him until the end of his days.

  “I hope you never work in broadcasting again, Micah.”

  “Getting fired from NSN wasn’t enough for you? Taking over my story?”

  “Ruby wasn’t even supposed to be a story.”

  “You were at the same race I was. You could have seen her, and then maybe you would have earned the story instead of getting my sloppy seconds. Think how much better you would feel about your life right now if you had paid attention to sports history.” Needling King was unnecessary, but Micah was too pissed off to control himself.

  A knock came to the door. “Police.” Another knock, this time accompanied by shuffling and the scraping of the key in the lock. From his position at the threshold of the bathroom, Micah could see a hotel employee jump aside and two uniformed policemen enter.

  “Is everything okay here?” one of the cops asked. The cop was young, with his shoulders thrown back to puff out his chest and a wide-legged swagger.

  “Officer, I came into my room and this man had broken in. I found him in the bathroom.”

  The second officer, a man who looked too old for his crisp uniform and acted like he knew it, looked at Micah, then up and around the room. “This here’s your room? Whose bra, then?”

  “Pete, that’s Micah Blackwell,” the younger cop hissed at his partner. “The other guy is King Ripley.”

  “Am I supposed to know who they are?” The older man couldn’t
take his eyes off the bra.

  “SportsDaily reporters. You know, the one who was...” The young cop looked at Micah and Micah shrugged, still too angry to say anything that wasn’t rude, and so he kept his mouth shut. “Micah is the one who was fired.”

  “That’s right, I saw those pictures of that woman leaving your apartment building. A runner or something.”

  “Officer,” King said, seizing the advantage, “wait until you see what’s in the bathroom.”

  “Like a man who was breaking into my hotel room, lest we all forget why I called nine-one-one.”

  “Right.” Finally the older cop pulled his attention away from the bra and looked at King skulking in the doorway. “The manager said this was Mr. Blackwell’s room. Why are you here?”

  “If you watch NSN, and it sounds like you two officers do, then you’ll know I was assigned the Ruby Heart story after Micah’s suspension. Well, I became suspicious and so I came here looking for evidence of doping. And I found it. Micah was even helping.”

  “I suggest we all retire to the station,” the older cop said, “where we can sort this out.”

  “Officer, Ruby’s running the race over at the state park today. I’m supposed to be at the third aid station for her. I’d like to be there at the finish.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible...” the older cop said. At the same time, the younger one said, “We’ll see what we can do.”

  “Can I at least text her brother so he can be at the aid station for her?”

  The younger cop spoke before the older one could open his mouth. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  The older cop was apparently unwilling to argue with his colleague in front of the suspects, but he clearly wasn’t happy with that answer. Micah took what he could get and texted Josh the barest bit of information. Anything more would sound ridiculous, which this situation clearly was. Then Micah put his phone away and agreed to talk with the cops at the station, so long as he could drive himself over there.

  King was making arguments of his own, talking about the importance of the story and how he was the innocent one and he didn’t need to come down to the station.

  It was going to be a long morning.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  RUBY SLOWED AS she entered the aid station. Carter, a runner she’d met in Missouri and one of the top runners in the Midwest, had about a five-minute lead on her. But she’d also seen the extra effort he put into his kick to pull away from her. He wasn’t at a pace he could sustain—at the end of the race he’d have to slow down. While Ruby would still have enough left in her to speed up.

  She climbed onto the scale, not paying attention to the weight. The volunteer declared her good. While she went through the medical check, Ruby found Josh, who handed her a water bottle and a granola bar. “Where’s Micah?” she asked, not bothering to swallow her food before talking. She may have enough juice left in her to catch Carter, but that didn’t mean every last second didn’t count, even in a seventeen-hour race.

  “All I got is a text from him saying something happened in your room having to do with King. And that’s why Micah couldn’t make this aid station. He hopes he’ll be at the finish, but he wasn’t certain.”

  “What the... Never mind. I can’t worry about this right now. I have a race to win.”

  Ruby shoved her questions out of her head and her trash at her brother. She couldn’t fix whatever was happening in their hotel room, but she could beat Carter. The rustling of the trail under her feet and the rhythm of the running drowned out everything but the push inside her.

  * * *

  RUBY CROSSED OVER the finish line thirty-nine seconds after Carter did. The last two miles had been an all-out sprint between the two of them and, in the end, he’d been a half minute stronger than she was. She staggered to the medical check with Josh at her elbow. It wasn’t until she’d completed the final medical check that she realized Micah wasn’t by her side.

  She’d been running for herself, sure, but it had been nice knowing there was a person waiting for her at the end. Just any person wasn’t enough, though. She was glad to have Josh by her side as she congratulated Carter on his win, but she wished Micah were here instead of her brother. As she collapsed in a chair, she wished she knew where Micah was.

  Amir and his camera came into view. No Micah. No King either, which was a good thing. She didn’t have the energy to put up with him. Bells announced the coming of another runner. Ruby gestured to Josh to help her up. Getting her standing required effort on both their parts, and she staggered to the finish line to start cheering.

  Micah didn’t show up until the fifth finisher had crossed the line, a full forty-five minutes after Ruby. “I missed your finish,” he said, reaching his arms up for a hug.

  She bent down and embraced him, too worried about him to be upset. “If it had taken you another forty-five minutes, I’m not sure I would be able to bend down.”

  His hands were warm on her face. His grip was strong and there was something urgent in the way his fingers clasped her jawbone. No matter how tired her body was, she recognized the relief in his kiss. She didn’t pull away until bells announced the coming of the next runner, and then she had to brace her back to stand up straight. When Micah held out his hand for assistance, she took it and didn’t let go.

  In between cheering for the finishers, Micah told Ruby what had happened in their hotel room and about his multihour adventure at the police station and the accompanying call to the NSN offices. “King is suspended pending further inquiries, and I’m back on your story. Freelance until paperwork goes through.”

  “Do we need to do an interview now, then?” She was exhausted in mind, body and spirit, and the news of King’s attempt to sabotage her fledging reentry into running didn’t help. Come morning, exhaustion would probably hit her like a ton of bricks. It might be days before she had the energy to fully process what had happened.

  “No. We can wait.” A pleased expression must have crossed the fatigued muscles of her face because he gave her hand a squeeze and said, “And it’s not me putting you and our relationship in front of my career—NSN will have their hands full firing King. Your story can wait until tomorrow.”

  “What comes after that? For you? For us?”

  “How does Southern California sound? For me and for us?”

  They paused to cheer for three runners who finished all together.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t just get your story back. I also got offered an anchor position at the new SportsDaily studio in Los Angeles.”

  “Can we live closer to the mountains so I can train there?”

  He blinked several times, her quick acceptance catching him off guard. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

  “This race qualifies me for Western States next year,” she said, referring to one of the elite races in ultramarathoning—a hundred-mile run through the Sierra Nevada mountains. “There’s no way I can train for the mountains here, but if we move soon, I’ll have plenty of time.” Her fatigue couldn’t cover the way her voice sounded like the pants of an eager puppy.

  He laughed. “I guess it’s settled, then. We do this, and we do it together.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from PROMISES UNDER THE PEACH TREE by Joanne Rock.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  THE NIGHT MACK FINLEY lost his virginity with Nina Spencer, the kisses had been peach-flavored and the summer night had been hot enough to sear the scent of the orchard into his brain.

  Now, he couldn’t set foot in his Tennessee hometown of Heartache without memories of Nina lambasting him from all sides. It didn’t matter if it was late summer when the trees lined the road, heavy with ripe fruit. Or if someone simply mentioned her name. Today, when both things happened at once, Mack’s thoughts took an extended vacation to that teenage summer eight years ago.

  “Mack?” His brother’s voice came through Mack’s Bluetooth as he wound through the Tennessee hills to the west of Interstate 65 in his old Eldorado convertible. “Are you still there? Can you hear me?”

  Mack raked a hand through his hair as he cruised past the gazebo in the town park that had sheltered every family reunion and major wedding anniversary for as long as he could remember. He went past the ancient hardware store that was still independently run despite numerous attempts by chain stores to move into town.

  “Yeah. I’m here.” In the tiny town of Heartache, where he’d grown up. He’d stepped away from his bar business for a few days in order to help his oldest brother, Scott, with the town’s Harvest Festival. It was a tradition their father—a longtime mayor—had resurrected to restore community pride during a tough economic period. After his dad’s death last spring, the town council lobbied hard for the Finley family to spearhead the event to honor their father’s memory. Mack dodged most family commitments, but he couldn’t pass off this one because his brother needed him. Not much else could have brought him back to this town. Heartache. Yep. Town’s name summed it up damn well for him. “But I must have heard you wrong.”