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Race To The Altar

Page 24

by Patricia Hagan


  She stood and began rolling her carry-on bag.

  The boy fell in step behind her. “Hey, lady. Would you want to sell that cap? I can give you a couple of dollars.”

  She smiled, pleased as always to accommodate a true race fan. “I’ll do better than that,” she said. “Here.” She took it off and placed in on his head. “It’s yours.”

  “Gee, lady, thanks,” he cried.

  “That’s real nice of you,” a voice called loudly from across the room, “but you might want to hang on to that cap, because there aren’t going to be any more.”

  Liz turned, swayed in wonder, and had to reach out and clasp the boy’s shoulder to keep from falling.

  Rick was coming toward her, as fast as his bandaged ribs would let him. A woman was beside him, helping him along.

  “Hey, it’s Rick Castles,” the boy shouted. “Oh, man, will you autograph my cap?”

  Someone produced a pen. Rick scrawled his name on the cap’s bill, eyes on Liz all the while. “You can’t go,” he said. “Not till I know if I was just dreaming when I heard you say you loved me.”

  Liz was oblivious to those around staring and listening. “I…it was no dream,” she stammered. “I did say it. I had no right. I mean, you have someone.” She glanced at the woman with him. Was it Wendy?

  Rick sensed what she was thinking. “This is my sister, Marcie. Marcie, meet Liz. I’m hoping I can talk her into being your new sister-in-law.”

  Marcie smiled and nodded.

  Liz was too overwhelmed right then to do anything but murmur, “I don’t understand.”

  Rick closed the gap between them and put his arms around her. “I lied to you. There never was a Wendy. There never was anybody else after I met you, Liz. Can you forgive me for being such a fool? I thought I couldn’t give up my career for you, and I knew you couldn’t deal with it, but it doesn’t matter now. All I want is you.”

  Liz blinked in wonder. “Deal with it? But Rick, I’ve been dealing with it for nearly a year, and—”

  “No, no, honey. I don’t mean things PR. I’m talking about your being so miserable the past few weeks, how you couldn’t stand being around racing anymore.”

  “But that was so you wouldn’t know how it was killing me to leave it.”

  “And,” he rushed on, “there was that incident in Talladega when you were about to come to blows with a girl for coming on to me so strong, and—”

  “Wait a minute.” Liz recalled the incident and quickly moved to set him straight. “That wasn’t about you. I figure you can take care of yourself when it comes to female fans. The reason I got in her face was over a dog she’d left in her car as hot as it was, with the windows rolled up. If she hadn’t left to take care of it, I probably would have gone nuts, because—”

  “Because you’re wonderful,” he said with a laugh, then grimaced and bent slightly with pain from his bandaged ribs. “Sorry. It hurts to laugh. But you are wonderful, Liz, and I apologize for getting the wrong idea.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I thought you were like other women I’ve known who go to pieces over the least little thing. They can’t handle the stress connected with racing. But believe me, Liz, if you were like that, it wouldn’t matter, because I’m ready to give up my career for you. And I’d still feel the same even if I had won the title and kept the sponsorship. I love you, and I want to marry you.”

  “You…you’re proposing?” she gasped as a spattering of applause broke out among those still waiting to board the flight to L.A.

  “Yes,” he said, lips trailing across her face. “I love you, Liz, and now that I know you love me, too, I want you to be my wife. I’ll get a real job, and—”

  “But you’ve got a job,” she cried, eyes brimming with happy tears. “You’re a race driver, Rick. That’s all you’ve ever wanted to be, and that’s fine with me. And the only pressure I’ve had was with my career. Not yours. I was so determined I wouldn’t fail, and I was afraid to fall in love. But then it happened. When I saw it could never work because you didn’t want me, I just pretended to be fed up with everything so you wouldn’t guess the real reason I asked to be transferred.”

  “And I was such a fool, Liz. Such a fool.”

  Neither cared that others were listening, but the number became fewer and fewer as the trailing passengers boarded the plane.

  “As long as you love me,” Liz rushed on, “there’s nothing the two of us can’t handle.”

  Rick blinked against his own tears as he cajoled, “Well, if you’re sure you don’t want me out of racing, maybe you can use your connections to get me a new sponsor.”

  She grinned. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like pizza, anymore?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She pulled from his embrace and took the morning paper from her bag, opening to the sports section so he could read the headlines.

  “Castles Crashes But Keeps Big-buck Sponsor.”

  Rick sucked in his breath and again winced with pain. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

  “It does.” She wound her arms about his neck. “Mr. Staley announced at the press conference last night that even though Jack Blevins won the championship, Big Boy’s is staying with you. They said anybody who would do what you did to keep from T-boning a driver is the kind of hero they want to sponsor.”

  “So that’s what Mack was trying to tell me when I hung up,” Rick said, remembering the excitement in Mack’s voice.

  Giving her a playful tap on her chin, Rick said, “So now that you saved me, you’ve got to take care of me the rest of my life.”

  “That wasn’t heroics. I just happened to know how that harness worked when nobody else did.” She wrinkled her nose impishly. “After all, I learned about it while I was trying to figure out how the potty worked that NASA was supposed to be so interested in.”

  “I refuse to laugh,” he said, struggling not to, “and there’s only one way to prevent it.”

  Their lips met in a kiss that threatened to never end, and it was only when someone called out that they drew apart.

  It was the gate attendant. “Miss, if you don’t board right now, you’re going to miss your flight.”

  Liz was clinging to Rick, unable to take her eyes from his adoring face. “Maybe I will miss the plane…but not the chance for happiness with the man I love beyond belief.”

  Rick drew her closer, no longer caring about the discomfort of his injuries. “And he loves you just as much, Liz,” he fervently vowed, “and always will.”

  Epilogue

  Mack, standing next to Rick, gazed across the lake and infield to the packed grandstands and grinned to say, “I thought she just wanted a small wedding with a few close friends.”

  Rick, also sweeping the distant crowds, grinned right back. “That’s what we’re having. A small wedding next to the infield lake with a few close friends.” He nodded to acknowledge the rest of the pit crew, along with Jeff Strohm and Gary Staley, who were nearby.

  “And what about a couple hundred race fans?”

  “They’ll be listening over the loudspeakers. But it’s the reception that will test the fire code at the country club. We’ve invited all the drivers and crews, the media, and the track personnel. It’s going to be something.”

  “You just keep your mind on the race,” Mack said, giving Rick a playful clip on the shoulder with his fist. “That’s some tux you’re wearing, by the way,” he added to tease.

  Rick glanced over at Gary Staley with a nod of approval for his new racing uniform with the Big Boy’s logo. He would have worn a tux if Liz hadn’t scheduled the wedding right before the start of the Daytona 500. As it was, there was no time to change. But she’d said that’s how she wanted it—that since they met at the track, she wanted the wedding there. And that was fine with him. Heck, anything she wanted was okay, because he never knew he could love someone so much.

  “I guess the bride will be wearing slacks and a bl
azer,” Mack said. “Since she’ll be going directly to the pits as soon as the race starts.”

  “Not this time,” Rick said, beaming to see the white stretch limo coming off the fourth turn and heading down the backstretch.

  It eased into the grassy area and stopped. The driver hurried to open the door, and Liz stepped out, dazzling in a white satin and lace wedding gown.

  Tears came to Rick’s eyes as he watched her coming toward him. She was carrying a bouquet of black and white carnations with checkered ribbon streamers. She had told him when they were making plans that since racing was a vital part of their life, so, too, would it be a part of their wedding. As for the gown, she had firmly asked where was it said that white was reserved for virgins? In her opinion, it meant first and lasting love…which was what she felt for Rick and swore she always would.

  He held out his hands to her, and she clasped them as she stepped to his side. Leaning close so no one else would hear, he intimately whispered, “Thank you for coming into my life, Liz.”

  Liz’s eyes also glimmered with happy tears. “And I thank you for making me a part of it. I love you so much, Rick Castles, and I always will.”

  He could not wait for the end of the ceremony to kiss her, and, drawing her into his arms, claimed her lips then and there. Only when Mack and the rest of the crew began whistling and teasing did he let her go and declared, “You made me realize there’s only one race that truly meant anything, Liz—the race to the altar.”

  “And here we are, my darling.” She lovingly touched her fingertips to his cheek. “And our own special checkered flag is about to wave.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-4388-0

  RACE TO THE ALTAR

  Copyright © 2001 by Patricia Hagan

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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