Country Roads 3
Bang the Blower
Julie Jenkins should’ve died. After crawling away from one of the worst crashes in drag racing history, Julie faces rehabilitation manipulated by two stubborn cowboys. Somewhere along the way, she discovers her torrid past and accepts her racing failures as stepping-stones to a future filled with love.
Duke and Hank Hinman are troubled by Julie’s accident. They build an automobile with Julie’s protection in mind, hoping she’ll prefer stock cars to dragsters. When tampered brakes nearly put her in the wall, Julie reevaluates career choices. Someone wants to kill her, but the reason behind their quest isn’t clear.
Suspecting foul play will continue, Duke and Hank vow to protect Julie. However, they quickly discover it’s hard to win a race when the opponent refuses to show his face. And it’s harder still to defeat the challenger when the opposition refuses to lose.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 40,117 words
BANG THE BLOWER
Country Roads 3
Natalie Acres
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
BANG THE BLOWER
Copyright © 2011 by Natalie Acres
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-787-0
First E-book Publication: September 2011
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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BANG THE BLOWER
Country Roads 3
NATALIE ACRES
Copyright © 2011
The winner ain’t the one with the fastest car,
it’s the one who refuses to lose…
—Dale Earnhardt
Prologue
“Disaster struck the world of drag racing today when Julie Jenkins found herself airborne in a car destined for massive destruction. Jenkins seemed to bang the blower as both chutes were out at an estimated four hundred and ten feet. The car malfunctioned, crashed into the wall, and the dragster was surrounded by a whirlwind of dancing flames.
“A spokesman for the sport said this is by far one of the most devastating wrecks to ever occur in drag racing. Julie’s dragster burst into a blaze of fury, exploding into bits and pieces of metal while fires erupted on various strips of the track.
“Julie is in critical condition. Her representatives are protecting her privacy. However, Howard Leer—a spokesman for Julie’s racing team—told Racing Times Review earlier today that Jenkins is not expected to return to the sport anytime soon due to life-changing injuries…”
Hank Hinman glared at the television. Clips and replays of the accident sent harrowing chills up and down his spine. Gripping both sides of the leather recliner, he stared at the footage through moist eyes, resisting the tears he didn’t have time to cry.
“Will she make it?” Hank asked his brother as he entered the media room.
Duke cleared his throat. His face was red, his cheeks damp. He moved his lips, but words wouldn’t form until he took a deep breath and finally managed to say, “I just spoke to the attending physicians at University Hospital. It’s bad, Hank. She may never walk again.”
Hank slowly nodded. “What do you know about her injuries?”
“Other than the spinal damage—and the physicians won’t comment on her condition until they finish running tests—she has a broken arm, and severe burns on her back. A sliver of metal sliced through her suit so the cuts are pretty bad, but nothing that won’t heal.”
“How soon can you leave for University Hospital?”
“We won’t be able to see her,” Duke informed him.
“I want to be there when she wakes up. In the meantime, we’ll talk to the hospital administration and make sure she has everything she needs.”
“She’ll receive the best care,” Duke said. “Frank spoke to her crew chief and team owner this morning. He made sure they understood we’re picking up the bill and we expect her to have the best care money can buy.”
Hank gasped as another horrific image scattered across the screen. “How in heaven’s name did she crawl away from that wreck?”
Duke slowly shook his head. “I have no idea. Those close to the track all feared she was dead. She crawled a good fifteen feet away from the wreckage before she collapsed.”
Covering his mouth, Hank leaned forward and listened to the reporters as they bantered back and forth about what might have gone wrong. Normally, Hank would’ve been interested in hearing the various theories. Today, he was only interested in facts.
“Hank, there’s something else, too.”
“You don’t have to say it. I already know. Julie was one of the best drivers out there. There’s foul play somewhere.”
“That’s the word on the track,” Duke said, confirming his suspicions.
Hank narrowed his gaze on one final clip before grabbing the remote and clicking off the power. �
��Any word on who Julie may have pissed off this time?”
“According to her crew chief, there were several team owners who don’t appreciate her antics. Some drivers claim she’s a sexist bitch, and those fellas who don’t like her say she was the kind of driver destined to die in a dragster.”
Hank snorted at that. “She’s a sexist bitch, huh? Since when?”
Duke shrugged. “We haven’t seen her in a long time. Maybe when she left us, something snapped.”
“Maybe,” Hank mumbled while considering the possibility.
Duke sighed. “What do ya wanna do?”
“We’ll go to Pennsylvania and sit with Julie for a few days. After she regains consciousness, we’ll head to Indianapolis where we’ll ask questions. Somebody—mechanics, crew chiefs, fans, someone—knows what happened.”
“There ain’t a question in my mind. Someone tampered with that car but finding a witness who’ll talk won’t be as easy as you might think.”
“Maybe not, but we’ll buy our information.” A strike later, Hank added, “And we’ll keep paying until we know who was behind the crash that almost cost Julie her life.”
“Hank, she has a long way to go if she’s going to make a full recovery.”
“I know. I’m prepared for the worst and I’ve got nothing but time.”
Duke frowned. “I’ll let the boys know we’re bringing her home.”
After Duke left, Hank studied an oil painting depicting happier days. He and Duke were seated on a park bench. Julie stood behind them, leaning slightly forward. Her wide smile, twinkling brown eyes, and round, rosy cheeks made her look like the happiest woman in the world. Back then, she probably earned the title.
They adored Julie. They loved her as much as they could, but then like young men often will, they let her go, fearing the commitment she sought was more than they could provide.
What dumb men they were back then. They gave up the love of their lives for Annie Taylor, a woman who prided herself on one-night stands.
Annie didn’t hold a candle to Julie. Other women came and went but Julie was the keeper. Unfortunately, it took an accident of this magnitude to make Hank realize what he’d missed.
Hank closed his eyes and imagined the pain and heartache Julie must’ve endured when they parted ways. The hurt was nothing compared to what she faced now, and he planned to be there for her.
They had a long road ahead of them, and Hank was ready to ride out the worst of times with the woman he’d never been able to get off his mind. One way or the other, sooner or later, they’d have a bullheaded woman riding shotgun with them once more. And whether she liked it or not, he and Duke would be there every step of the way until she felt like herself again.
She would put up one hell of a struggle, because that was Julie for you. The fight lived within her. But one thing about it, she’d have someone to challenge her. If she became preoccupied with them, she’d fully recuperate before she’d wallow in the seriousness of her injuries.
Hank rubbed his temples as he considered the days ahead. He also recalled the history behind them. He came up with a theory. A sound one, all things considered.
He and Duke were to blame. If they’d loved Julie the way she needed to be loved, she’d be there with them—right upstairs, straight down the hall, last door on the right.
Instead she lay fighting for her life.
Chapter One
Three months later
University Hospital of Pennsylvania
Julie Jenkins rose from the wheelchair on wobbly legs. She used a cane to make her way down the sidewalk where she stood awaiting the unknown.
“Thank you for everything,” she said, turning to her physical therapist. “I know I wasn’t easy.”
“You weren’t as difficult as you might like to think,” he said, shooting her a wink and a sincere smile.
She knew better. When she awoke from the drug-induced coma, she fought those around her, although she still wasn’t sure to whom she owed an apology. Maybe there was a list somewhere since she remembered being restrained by several men and women.
“Really, Miss Jenkins, it was my pleasure to work with you,” the therapist reassured her. “You weren’t a problem at all.”
“I hope not,” she said quietly, wondering why her publicist and crew chief weren’t there yet.
A maroon SUV stopped curbside. Equipped with dark-tinted windows, the vehicle possessed front plates with a stock car emblem. She might have thought her ride had arrived if the car displayed a dragster on the tag instead.
She silently hoped whoever left the car didn’t glance her way. Since her accident, her publicist told her she’d become America’s sweetheart, the woman everyone in America, and not just the sports fans, wanted to see survive a crash that should’ve claimed her life.
Then again, stock car racing and drag racing often interlocked. Fans sometimes followed both sports like a religion. And evidently, she was quite recognizable now. Her face had been on numerous magazines. Her story told countless times by reporters searching for ratings.
A pedestrian passed her then and she turned her head to the side, fearing those never-ending pitiful looks, the eyes of sorrow staring back at her. She’d seen enough of those. She hated being on the receiving end of a stranger’s curious gaze almost as much as she disliked waiting for a ride. No one could accuse her of being a patient woman.
Taking a few uneven steps, she balanced her weight as best she could. Deciding she’d sit and wait on a nearby bench, Julie made her way toward the concrete seat while doors opened and slammed behind her. She hesitated before she turned around, but when she finally managed to make the effort, she had no choice but to acknowledge the familiar eyes staring back at her.
Her fate flashed in front of her. Life as she’d known it was forever over.
* * * *
Hank was the first one to approach her. Thank God.
Duke stayed put, standing firm on the ground underneath him. Julie didn’t look like she was glad to see them but then again, why would she?
The last time they’d been together, they’d parted on bad terms. Evidently, she’d worn her resentment toward them like a badge, too. As soon as she discovered he and Hank wanted to sit by her bedside, she denied them access. Raising complete hell, Julie informed the hospital staff they were not permitted to see her nor were they allowed access to her medical information.
She apparently didn’t have any recollection of the time they’d all spent together while she was in the intensive care unit, which was just as well. Duke was confident Julie would’ve found a way to sue the hospital had she known.
“Julie,” Hank said softly. “It’s good to see you.”
“You haven’t seen enough of me on television over the last three months?” she asked, bitterness in every word.
“I don’t watch the tube,” Hank retorted.
“Duke,” she said, tilting her chin his way. “Tell your brother he’s a horrible liar. He was glued to the news when I caught a glimpse of him as the nurses moved me to a private room, which I’m sure you both arranged.”
Duke’s heart was in his throat. She was as beautiful as the day she’d left them, and just as ill as the staff relayed. She always thought she had something to prove, but now things were different. Her eyes flashed anger. Her voice was laced with fury, and her expression was one he didn’t recognize. Julie was mad at the world.
“Hi, Julie,” Duke finally managed. This was a tough day for all of them, and it was about to become more difficult and pretty damn complicated.
“Hi, Duke,” she choked out, mockery in her voice. “What brings the two of you here today? Did someone tell you the administration decided to release me? I guess you’re here to gloat, aren’t you?”
“Why on earth would you think something like that?” Hank asked.
“I don’t understand either,” Duke admitted.
She snorted at both remarks. “I imagine you drove all this way so you could say
you told me so. Women have no place in drag racing, remember?”
“You proved us wrong,” Duke pointed out. “You were one of the best, Julie. I mean that.”
“Were,” she rasped. “I’m not dead yet, Duke.”
“I’m glad about that, by the way,” Duke immediately fired back, his heart breaking for her. He wanted to go to her then, wrap his arms around her small body and tell her to cry out her anger, latch onto him and hold on for dear life.
If he could only tell her how he planned to make everything all right again. Maybe then he’d see signs of the Julie he once loved, the Julie he knew still existed under the afflicted layers of sadness and defeat.
“We’re here to pick you up,” Hank announced. “I talked to Carl Carlton and he spoke to your publicist. You’re looking at the only ride you have today.”
“Remind me to switch race teams when I’m fully recovered,” she grumbled. “Carl has no loyalty.”
Duke ran his thumb and forefinger down the bridge of his nose. That was an understatement. Carl was after that almighty dollar and when he had an injured driver, he tried to save public face. Unfortunately, Carl’s interest in his driver’s welfare generally faded when he realized he wasn’t about to profit off their improbable return to the drag strip.
Julie’s gaze immediately shifted between Sam and Frank, two employees who worked for them in several capacities. Frank had been a longtime employee and they considered him a friend, practically family. Sam recently joined their team as a highly recommended mechanic. Lucky for them, he had a thing for farming, too.
Acres, Natalie - Bang the Blower [Country Roads 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 1