“I assumed not. So we table the discussion.” She tugged his arm, getting him moving again. “But your mom’s coming today, so in between all those critical fuel mileage calculations, you might want to glance around and notice how your dad acts around her.”
“Between fuel mileage calculations, I’ll be pacing, talking to my drivers, talking to my crews and crew chiefs.” He sighed and fought the battle between being an owner and a son. Surprisingly, the son won. “How do you know?”
“I don’t know. It’s a gut instinct.”
Darcy’s gut was usually right. On some level, he and his siblings had never given up hoping for reconciliation between their parents. To Rachel, it was practically a quest. For years, Bryan blamed himself for the breakup, as his accident seemed to be what brought everything to a head. But Rachel had sat him and Cade down last summer and explained that while his accident had been a catalyst, it had simply been a reminder of his dad’s mortality.
His dad was afraid he was missing out on life. He’d moved out to reclaim his youth. And even last year, his sister suspected their father regretted his decision to turn his back on decades of marriage. He just didn’t know how to go back.
Better than anybody, Bryan understood regret. He understood how it felt to be abandoned the way his mother had; he understood his father’s desire to live life as if you were invulnerable. But how could they realistically repair their marriage? How would either of them ever be able to trust the other again?
Would he ever trust again? He was crazy about Darcy. Their bond as both friends and a couple was strong. He couldn’t say he’d ever been friends with Nicole.
Could that make the difference? Could he and Darcy last long-term? Wasn’t the idea that he was even considering her and the words long-term together a sign that he, like his father, was letting go of his past? That he could move beyond old pain and resentments?
“Here’s where I need to peel off,” she said as they reached the garage. She glanced up at him and squeezed his hand. “Wish Cade my best.”
“I will. And save me some breakfast.”
Her grin flashed. “I’ll do my best. Your guys are a hungry bunch.”
“But I’m the boss.”
“Uh-huh. How about you tell them that at mealtime?”
With more reluctance than he wanted to admit, he let her go. He actually stood still, watching her walk away, her hips swaying before he shook himself from the melancholy thought that he’d miss her. He liked having her by his side.
Melancholy? There’s no melancholy in racing.
Dismissing his weird thoughts, he headed to Cade’s garage stall. As expected, Sam was there, gulping coffee along with his team. The car chief and one of the crew members were checking each and every part and piece of the car to be sure everything was accounted for and in its proper place before it was due to go through the tech inspection process mandated by NASCAR. Bryan joined Sam in his silent stare at the car, as if they could push it to the front of the field by a sheer force of will.
“How are we?” Bryan asked the crew chief.
“Good as we can be. Cade’s edgy.”
“I noticed.”
“Seen him this morning?”
“Not yet. Expect him any minute, though.”
“You check the war wagon inventory?”
“Twice.”
“You talk to the other teams about their fuel mileage?”
“’Bout the same as Cade’s.”
They stared at the car again.
“How are we?” Cade asked when he walked up a few moments later.
“Good as we can be,” Sam said again.
“Is that good enough?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe.”
Cade paced.
“At least everybody qualified well,” Bryan said.
“So did a lot of other fast cars,” Sam pointed out.
“What fast cars?” Cade asked. “Faster than mine?”
Bryan wasn’t in the mood for Cade’s manic energy. If his brother didn’t slow down a little he wouldn’t have enough energy to drive four hundred miles.
Before Bryan could point out that fact, Emily, the PR rep for Huntington Hotels, stopped in front of him and Sam with plates of steaming hot egg-and-cheese breakfast sandwiches.
“Darcy made you a protein shake,” she said to Cade. “Do you want it now?”
“No, thanks.” He waved his hand. “Too nervous.”
Bryan and Sam thanked Emily and shook their heads at their driver. He’d have to eat something before the race. “We can always call Isabel. She’ll force him to eat.”
“Good idea.” Sam glanced at Bryan’s plate. “I got bacon on mine.”
“I see that. And when you can’t button your pants because all that fat has settled on your belly, I know who to call to work it off.”
“I guess you do.” Sam took a bite of his sandwich, chewed thoughtfully, then announced, “If you don’t marry her, I will.”
“Apparently, you’ll have to fight my dad for her.”
“Fight?” Cade asked urgently. “Who’s fighting with Dad? Not Mom again?”
Bryan pointed to the other side of the car. “Go pace over there.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“IT’S YOUR DAY,” Bryan said as he leaned against the window frame of his brother’s race car. “You’re going to win.”
Cade’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? You’ll jinx me.”
Bryan smiled and shook his head. Darcy was absolutely never wrong, as she’d predicted Cade’s exact reaction that morning. “I didn’t tell you that earlier, because I was afraid you’d starting hopping around the garage instead of just pacing a hole in the floor. But you could use the jolt of confidence now, I think.”
Cade stared through his windshield. “It’s just another race. I don’t know why I’m so worked up.”
“Because it’s not just another race.”
“Counts the same amount of points as all the others.”
But Indy was special. And Cade’s team could use a boost. The heated days of summer had slowed their momentum, which they’d need heading into the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup. Turning his head, Bryan glanced down the seemingly endless front straightaway toward Turn Four. How many drivers had taken that final turn and imagined the finish line being farther away than Mars?
Countless.
“This race is about history.” He met his brother’s nervous gaze. “We could be the only family in NASCAR with three Indy wins.”
“But no pressure,” Cade snapped back sarcastically.
“You live for pressure.” Bryan tapped his shoulder. “Go get ’em.”
Gentlemen, start your engines.
At the immediate roar of sound, Bryan stepped back, allowing Isabel to move in and squeeze her husband’s hand one last time. One of the crew members fastened the safety net over the window, then the cars began rolling behind the pace car.
Turning toward the pit area, he noted Isabel’s worried expression, mirroring Cade’s, so he patted her shoulder, too.
As he put on his headset, he saw Darcy waving at him. He waved back and wished for another good luck kiss—though they’d indulged in several less than an hour ago. Instead, he climbed his way into the command center hovering over the pit box and sat next to Sam, knowing Darcy was headed back to the motor home to watch the race. If Cade was in contention to win, she’d promised to come back at the end to support the team.
The team was well-fed, energetic and ready to go, so her job was over. Which really wasn’t her job at all, just something she volunteered to do every week. He frowned. Shouldn’t he offer to compensate her for that time? The whole issue of money between them was strange, given how their relationship had changed over the course of the season.
But as the green flag waved, his personal issues had no voice, since the packed grandstands roared as fiercely as the engines. They were all a part of history, too, and Bryan hoped they’d be telling their grandkids how the
y saw Cade Garrison’s first Indy win, live and in person.
During the race, he visited both Kevin’s and Shawn’s pits, as well, making sure their crew chiefs were on top of everything and didn’t need help from him. At one point, as Chance Baker came off Turn Two, his car wiggled, the back end nearly sliding out from under him.
Cade happened to be right next to him.
“Go low, go low,” Cade’s spotter announced over the radio.
Cade swerved and avoided contact with the other car.
Bryan clenched his jaw.
But as the race wound down, he put aside worries about Chance and his banzai driving and focused on Cade’s track position. Since it was notoriously difficult to pass at Indy, if they didn’t make a bold call on pit road on the last stop, he didn’t see how Cade would win.
He ran the idea by Sam, who’d already been thinking along that line, then he went by the other GRI teams’ pits to find out their strategy. In the end, he and Sam decided Cade was the only one who’d take two tires. Shawn’s position for getting in the Chase was too precarious to take a risk and Lars’s team had tried two tires earlier, only to have him lose several positions once he got back on the track.
Just as they were all contemplating green-flag stops, the caution flew for debris fifteen laps from the end of the race.
“Two tires,” Sam said into the headset.
“Two?” Cade answered back, clearly concerned.
“You need track position,” Sam returned firmly.
Bryan held his breath as Cade pulled his car into the box below him. Any mistake during the stop would negate the risky call.
“Go, go!” the gasman yelled as he jumped back.
Cade’s car roared off second.
The green flag waved, and Cade had passed the leader within a lap. The crowd was on its feet as he blazed across the Start/Finish line in first place, eight laps to go.
Bryan and Sam exchanged a glance, but said nothing. Left to hope that he’d made the right recommendation, Bryan leaned back in his chair, alternately watching the monitor and the track and listening to the spotter call information to his brother.
On the last lap, going into Turn Three, the driver in second surged toward Cade’s bumper, making a run for the lead, he pulled alongside the tire, but by the time they’d rounded Turn Four, Cade had put distance between them.
“Hold your line,” Bryan said over the radio. “You’re almost there.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion except his heart, which was pounding in his chest like a war drum. But when the checkered flag came down, waving over Cade’s car, the world exploded in flashing lights, roars of sound and speed.
Hearing Cade’s whoop of excitement through the headset, Bryan grinned and gave Sam a quick hug.
After scrambling off the pit box, he found his dad, Rachel, Parker, Isabel and Darcy all huddled together in a group hug of celebration. The crew members were high-fiving each other. Cameras and microphones seemed to be everywhere.
“This is a big win not only for your driver, but your family,” a TV reporter asked Bryan. “How do you feel?”
“I’m proud of everybody at GRI. They all worked hard and deserve this win. I know Cade is thrilled.”
“Your family has made history. Your father, you and now your brother all have Indy trophies.”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “We’ve done well.”
He’d never been very effusive with reporters, and when his dad walked by, the TV crew wrapped up and rushed over to him.
Bryan, meanwhile, found himself face-to-face with Darcy. He pulled her to him in a tight hug and lifted her off her feet. He couldn’t explain how incredible it felt to have her there as part of the win, part of the family. Though Cade and GRI had already won three times that season, a lot had changed between him and Darcy over the summer.
Within seconds, they were unfortunately separated. The family and team members were urged by the officials toward the celebrations in Victory Lane. More interviews and pictures ensued. But Cade’s megawatt smile as he climbed out of the race car was worth all the attention Bryan usually shunned.
Bryan kissed the bricks. Then he kissed Darcy.
With cameras flashing everywhere that probably wasn’t wise. Darcy would be a source of speculation and gossip. Not that everybody who went to the track each week didn’t already know they were seeing each other. And it wasn’t as though he wanted to hide, but their relationship was private.
Still, he insisted she be part of the pictures.
“Come on,” he said, tugging her hand as she tried to move away.
“The team is supposed to be in the pictures.”
“And you’re part of the team.”
It was more than that, of course, but he didn’t know how to explain, or even fully understand it himself. He only knew he wanted her as part of the picture he’d hang in his office and enjoy for years to come. And having her stand beside him felt pretty damn good.
THE LAST RACE BEFORE the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup was about to begin.
As Mitch walked the familiar path through the garage area toward Cade’s hauler, he reflected on what had passed and what was to come.
Cade, Chance and another driver exchanged the top three positions nearly every week. Shawn was holding tight around the seventh to ninth spot, and even though Kevin and Lars weren’t able to contend for a championship, that team had finished in the top fifteen for the last five races.
As the heat intensified on the GRI Chase contenders—or possibly because Bryan kept a tight rein on him—Lars had kept his mouth shut unless he was supporting his teammates. Cade had won two more races since Indy, and Shawn had gotten his first win of the season. Lars was one of the first people in Victory Lane to congratulate them.
Over his nearly forty-year career in racing, some things never changed—drivers fought for wins, owners and crew chiefs obsessed over details and teams that stuck together won championships.
On a personal level, Mitch had asked the entire family, including his ex-wife, to meet him for some professional pictures he wanted taken. Though everybody had a separate job to do in order to make sure the race went off as planned, he’d insisted, as all their pictures lately seemed to be missing one person or another. Looking through the scrapbooks that Barbara had meticulously kept over the years, he knew he couldn’t let one as important as this get by them without the memories documented.
And as a way to get Barbara to himself for a night, he thought it was pretty smart.
Two weeks ago, he’d broken up with Leanne, and she didn’t seem surprised. She’d obviously known for a while that he wasn’t committed to their relationship, and he was through trying to fool himself as to the cause.
He wanted his wife back.
He’d screwed up and thrown away the best thing in his life. Hard as it was for him to admit a mistake, he was forced to. While his kids were off finding happiness and success, he’d been acting like an idiot, searching for something he’d already had.
The love of a lifetime.
So, he’d just fix it. He’d find a way to get her back. He’d make her see that her forgiveness and love were all he thought about. Simple, right?
Thinking of Barbara’s cool stare when he’d seen her at the Atlanta race the weekend before, he wasn’t at all sure. He had a lot of making up to do, a lot of proving that this decision wasn’t flippant, but something he’d been struggling with, really, ever since he’d left in the first place. He’d made a terrible, terrible mistake, and he’d do whatever he had to in order to make it right again.
With determination and dedication, he’d gotten everything in life he’d ever wanted. Career. Family. Friends. He could do this, too. He had to—
“Oh, my gosh, you’re Mitch Garrison!” a shocked voice said as a pair of lovely young women stepped in front of him.
Smiling, he signed their autographs and thanked them for remembering the old-school guys who were still hanging around the track.<
br />
Being an adored NASCAR legend isn’t too shabby of a life, either, he thought as he walked away, sliding through the back door of Cade’s hauler.
Several of the team members were standing around, probably hoping the grills Big Dan had lit outside would soon burn with dinner. Darcy would no doubt be itching to get out there and help him.
Mitch had insisted Darcy be present for the pictures, which she’d worried about and Bryan had simply nodded about. His eldest child was notoriously closemouthed, so Mitch wasn’t sure how serious his and Darcy’s relationship was. But he personally thought his son was crazy if he didn’t grab that amazing girl with both hands and run to the altar.
Even if Bryan somehow lost his mind and didn’t, though, this picture was a reflection of their family as it stood now, and Darcy was a part of that. In the future, he hoped all his kids would be happily married, and he hoped grandkids would follow. He hoped there were championships and race wins and business and personal successes.
He closed his eyes briefly as he approached the door to the back-room office. I hope Barbara will talk to me.
When he opened the door, Rachel was busy rearranging the sofa and directing people around the room. “I’m not sitting beside him,” Barbara was saying. “We can sit at opposite—”
“Dad!” Cade called, rushing toward him. “We were just talking about where everybody should go.”
Glancing at Barb, Mitch knew exactly where she’d like him to go.
Reconciliation wasn’t going to happen overnight—much as he’d like it to. He was fine with them standing apart in this picture, since he had every confidence they’d stand together again in the future.
It was kind of like racing at Talladega. You knew the finish line was your goal, so it was up to you to bargain, maneuver, charge or coax—anything to get the prize. Naturally, while avoiding accidents along the way.
Calm—he’d run a lot of those races at Talladega, after all—he walked over to Rachel and kissed her cheek, then gave the same greeting to Isabel and Darcy. Finally, he moved toward Barb. She stood in front of the sofa with a tense, suspicious look on her face, as if wondering what he’d do next.
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