Race to the Altar

by Judy Duarte

  When they reached the car, Chase checked it over carefully. The body work had been completed, which had repaired the dents and scrapes it had gotten during the last race.

  It had never looked better, he decided. And he looked forward to climbing behind the wheel again, to hearing the engine roar to life.

  “Why don’t we let Tommy sit in the car,” the cameraman said.

  That ought to give the guys from the news station the human-interest story and the pictures they’d driven out here to get. So maybe they’d be on their way before too long.

  As a man lifted the boy and let him slide through the window into the car, Diana grinned from ear to ear.

  A camera flashed, and Chase’s gut knotted tighter.

  “Can I sit in it next?” Tommy’s little sister asked, clapping her hands and hopping up and down.

  Apparently, everyone was happy, so Chase didn’t know why he was letting it bother him.

  Maybe because he was a far cry from being happy about any of it. In fact, he felt at loose ends—as if something was missing. And it, or rather she, was.

  What in the hell was keeping Molly?

  About the time he’d begun to wonder if she was going to show up at all, he spotted her car coming down the drive. Too bad he was on the far side of the soon-to-be-open buffet line. He’d have to hike quite a ways to reach her.

  He started in that direction, only to see Pamela reach her first.

  By the time Molly parked, took a moment to collect herself after the long drive and climbed from the car, her blouse was wrinkled from the seat belt, and perspiration had dampened her underarms.

  The visit to Urgent Care hadn’t taken much longer than an hour once they’d been called inside. The doctor had agreed that it was a good thing Wanda had come in. After he’d cut into the toe and treated it, he’d given her an injection. Then he’d written out a couple of prescriptions that Molly had taken to the pharmacy.

  After dropping Wanda off at home and making sure she was comfortable, Molly had driven to the ranch. But she’d had to stop twice and ask for directions, so she’d arrived later than she’d intended.

  The first person to greet her was an obviously pregnant brunette, who reached out her hand. “Welcome to the Circle B Ranch. You must be Molly, Chase’s friend. I’m Pamela Barden-Jones.”

  Molly recognized Chase’s ex-wife from the pictures she’d seen in the society section of the newspaper. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “We haven’t eaten yet,” Pamela said, as she walked her toward the tables where the guests had gathered. “You haven’t missed much.”

  Molly scanned the grounds in search of Chase.

  “He’s talking to the reporters.” Pamela pointed to where a shiny blue race car was on display.

  Several people stood near it, looking it over with smiles. A video camera was rolling, and a boy waved from the driver’s window, his arm covered with a red cast.

  “I was told this was just a little barbecue,” Molly said, “but it looks like quite a party.” And a major photo op.

  “You know Chase,” Pamela said.

  Actually, right this moment, Molly wasn’t sure if she knew him at all.

  “Chase downplays things a lot. And then there’s my father.” Pamela laughed. “Daddy usually throws a big party to kick off the racing season with a little pizzazz. But he went all out this year.”

  Kicking off the new season?

  Somehow, Molly had gotten the impression that this was an end-of-the-season celebration.

  Pamela’s steps slowed and she placed a hand on her distended womb. “Ooh. This kid is bound to be a soccer player. I swear, even if I hadn’t had an ultrasound, I would know this baby is a boy. I guess he’s eager to get out and join the party.”

  “When are you due?” Molly asked.

  “Next month, and I’ll be happy when it’s all over.” She rubbed her belly a moment, then began the walk toward the tables again.

  “Has your pregnancy been difficult?”

  “No, not really. But I guess I’m not one of those women who enjoys being pregnant.”

  Molly wondered if she would be one of them. She didn’t like the bouts of nausea, but she thought she would enjoy feeling the baby move inside.

  Again, she scanned the grounds, looking for Chase, and…speak of the devil…

  “Hey,” Chase said, as he approached Molly with a smile. “You made it.”

  Yeah, she had. And she was suddenly wanting to turn around and head home. But she offered him a smile instead.

  He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her close, which made her feel marginally better.

  “Have you seen Michael?” Pamela asked him.

  “He’s with a couple of the other guys, watching a ball game on television in the den.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Pamela started for the house, Molly said, “It was nice meeting you. Good luck with the baby.”

  Pamela smiled. “It was great meeting you, too. And thanks.”

  After she was gone, Chase said, “I was beginning to worry about you.”

  “I’m sorry I was late.”

  “That’s okay. How was your drive out here? Did you have any problem finding it?”

  “I took a couple of wrong turns, but it wasn’t too bad.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” He gave her an affectionate hug before heading toward the other guests.

  As they neared the people who’d gathered to celebrate the new season, Chase steered Molly toward the first of several tables, introducing her to one man after another, as well as the women they were with. There was no way Molly would remember all of them, but she did her best to be friendly, to make polite conversation.

  She had to admit they all seemed nice.

  One man, Ralph Collins, said, “It’s great to finally meet the little gal who tamed Chase Mayfield.”

  Molly glanced at Chase and smiled, even though something told her Chase hadn’t been tamed at all.

  When the introductions were finally over and they were alone, she slipped her arm through his. “You gave me the idea that this was a postseason windup, not a preseason rally.”

  “Does it matter?” he asked.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Well, we had a very successful racing schedule last time, and we’re hoping for another. And the first race is coming up in the next couple of weeks.”

  Molly’s hands grew clammy, and her tummy shimmied, setting off a wave of nausea. “I thought we were going to compromise.”

  “We will,” he said.

  “But you’re still planning to race?”

  His gaze locked on hers, connecting them in an uncomfortable way. “Of course. Racing is what I do, Molly. It’s who I am.”

  Her steps slowed, and her feet grew as heavy as chunks of asphalt. She’d never be able to get used to seeing Chase speed around a track, to watching him risk his life. And even if she could handle it, even if she was willing to take the risk or pretend it wasn’t there, she couldn’t do that to their child.

  Chase might like the idea of having a son or daughter. He’d probably even make a good father. But no child should have to lose a parent. And with Chase tearing up the track regularly, there’d always be that possibility.

  “We can talk more about this later,” he said, as he started to make his way toward a chest-high table that had been set up as a bar.

  But as much as Molly willed herself to continue on, to smile and make happy chatter, she could hardly move. She wanted to run to her car, to drive back to Brighton Valley before it got dark.

  And the only way to do that was to confront him. To admit that she’d misunderstood him, that she’d made a crazy assumption because she’d wanted to believe it so badly. That either way, she hadn’t counted on this.

  “Remember when I told you that we didn’t have anything in common, that I didn’t want to be involved with a stock car racer?”

  Chase, who’d slowed his pace to match hers, came to a comp
lete stop. “Yeah, but that was before we made love—”

  “You also said that we’d be able to work things out, that you’d be willing to compromise.”

  “Compromise?” he asked. “Or quit racing entirely?”

  Quitting was the only compromise she was willing to make. “Chase, I can’t support your racing. I can’t even watch. I…” She shook her head. “If you’re going to race, this isn’t going to work.”

  His eye twitched. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

  She sighed. “I hadn’t meant to, but I can’t help it at this point.”

  He crossed his arms. “You said it would be unfair to ask me to quit.”

  “You’re right. And it’s unfair for you to expect me to worry myself sick. I’m sorry, Chase.” She swept her hand toward the tables, the happy people talking amongst themselves, the race car that had been parked near the buffet line as a guest of honor. “But I can’t be a part of this.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  At his harsh tone, Molly turned and headed back to her car. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. More of an argument, she supposed. But much to her disappointment, Chase let her go.

  As she slid behind the wheel, she felt a bit uneasy about leaving without eating or saying goodbye to anyone else, but fear and disappointment won out. And so did the heartbreak.

  She couldn’t stay a minute longer. Besides, it had been tough enough finding her way here. And she had to get closer to Brighton Valley before darkness set in.

  She’d gotten no more than ten miles from the ranch when droplets of water began to splatter the windshield.

  “Damn.” She turned on the wipers, but the steady swoosh-swoosh did little to make her feel comfortable about driving home in the rain.

  It’s not that she’d never had to drive in bad weather before, she just hadn’t done so very often. Nor for more than a few blocks.

  She kept on going, hands on the wheel, eyes peeled ahead, watching for anything that could cause her to lose control of the car.

  Ten more miles, she told herself, knowing she’d turn onto a more familiar road then.

  Nine miles.

  Eight.

  If she weren’t so nervous, she’d cry. But she couldn’t afford to think of Chase right now, to grieve for what she’d lost.

  What she’d thrown away.

  She hadn’t wanted to issue an ultimatum, yet she had. And the unfairness of it struck her. Racing defined him, just as nursing did her. And she’d backed him into a corner.

  It wasn’t his fault that she’d fallen in love with him. Or that she would worry herself sick when he raced. Or that she was uneasy riding with him.

  Uneasy? Was that really it? Or was it stone-cold fear?

  No matter what she’d told herself, she was still dealing with the accident. And at times, her fear had crippled her.

  She didn’t want to live like this forever—alone. Afraid.

  She only had two options: she could live with Chase or live without him. Either way, the fear would remain in her life until she faced it and addressed it. And the first one who needed to hear her realization was Chase. She also owed him an apology.

  But it was too late to do that now.

  The windshield wipers continued to swoosh, ticking off the minutes and the miles.

  Ahead she spotted the sign that announced the turn she’d been watching for. Moments later she was headed to Brighton Valley, and her grip on the steering wheel finally relaxed. With each mile marker she passed, her mood rose.

  But the peace had little to do with getting home and sequestering herself in her house. It had come from her decision to call Chase this evening and tell him she was sorry, that she loved him, that they’d created a child together. And that she was willing to do whatever it took to have a life with him.

  That is, if she hadn’t destroyed what fragile connection they’d had.

  Either way, there were some definite changes coming in her life.

  Instead of going straight home, maybe she ought to stop by the medical center and talk to Betsy, who had a friend who was a licensed counselor. Talking it out with a professional might help.

  When she reached the four-way stop on Second Street, she braked, looked both ways, then accelerated.

  A horn blared. She reached the center of the intersection just as a white pickup came barreling out of the blue and slammed into her, spinning her car around and knocking her head against the window.

  Everything hurt—but all she could think of was the baby.

  Chapter Twelve

  Chase hated ultimatums.

  And he hated to be told what to do. He’d had enough of that crap as a kid, and then from his sponsors.

  So he’d turned away from Molly and headed back to the party, back to the people who cared about him.

  Or maybe they only cared about what he was able to bring them—victory and an adrenaline rush by proxy.

  How could Molly take all they’d had, all he’d wanted to give her, and throw it in his face like that? How could she tell him he had to give up racing or lose her?

  When he reached the tables, where the sponsors and their guests had gathered to await the go-ahead to get into the buffet line, Gerald strode up to him.

  The fiftysomething man, who stood six foot two and weighed well over two hundred pounds, placed a hand on Chase’s shoulder. “Where’d your lady friend take off to?”

  “Home, I guess.”

  “Why? Did you two have a fight?”

  Chase didn’t respond.

  “Well, apparently she’s not as crazy about you as you thought.”

  Chase turned to face the man who’d been like a father to him. “Listen, Gerald. I appreciate all you’ve done for me. But let it go, will you?”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to see your mind scattered when you need to be focusing on the upcoming season. And I don’t want to hear about you nursing a broken heart by carousing late at night and gallivanting with all the little groupies who flock around you.”

  For some reason, Gerald had a way of making Chase feel like a spoiled little boy who would never grow up, never be completely on his own. And it was getting old.

  Real old.

  Gerald raised his finger in a parental fashion. “Are you listening to me?”

  “I heard you,” Chase said. “But I’m not taking it to heart. I don’t mind you providing me with advice and direction during the racing season. But my private life is a different story.”

  Gerald stiffened. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

  “Who are you, Gerald?”

  For a moment Chase wondered if the man was going to roll up that index finger and curl his hand into a menacing fist instead. “I’m the guy who made you the driver you are today.”

  Oh, yeah? Well, Chase had been the one out on the track, choking on smoke and dust and doing what came naturally to him.

  And while Gerald had made it possible for him to reach a higher level of racing, he hadn’t been all that instrumental.

  Chase crossed his arms. “You know, to be honest, my father first spotted my talent when I was a kid. And he worked two jobs to enable me to compete on the junior circuit.”

  “Your dad wouldn’t have been able to afford to buy you a car like mine.”

  “You’re right. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have wanted to. Or that he wouldn’t have tried.”

  “Then why didn’t he?”

  The question poked a finger at Chase’s chest, daring him to think about things he’d been ignoring for ages. Like why had the wealthy man become a father figure to him? And why had Chase tried so hard to please him?

  At first it had been because of Pamela. And when Gerald had taken him under his wing, it had been nice not to have to compete against anyone else for that paternal attention.

  Chase’s gut clenched. Had he chosen a relationship with Gerald over one with his own father? A relationship in which he was already the top dog and didn’t have to try an
d bump one of his brothers out of the way?

  The possibility was unsettling.

  And not very admirable.

  Chase might have been an unplanned addition to the family, but his parents had cared for him. And he’d found his own place in their hearts, even if he hadn’t always thought the niche was good enough.

  Maybe his biggest competition had been himself and his need to be bigger, better, faster…

  “Come on,” Gerald said. “Let’s get a plate of food. The buffet’s open now.”

  Chase wasn’t hungry. And he definitely wasn’t in the mood for a party.

  A raindrop splattered on his face, followed by another. He glanced overhead, at the dark clouds that had been steadily moving in. The weather report had said there was only a ten percent chance of precipitation. But they’d obviously miscalculated.

  He thought about Molly on the road and tensed, uneasy with her driving in bad weather.

  As angry at her as he wanted to be, he couldn’t block an onslaught of worry.

  She’d told him that she preferred driving over riding, so he’d tried to tell himself that she was probably competent behind the wheel. But she didn’t drive very often. Not when she walked or rode her bike to work almost every day.

  He remembered how she’d practically clung to the passenger door when they’d gone to his parents’ house yesterday, at least for the first hour or so. And how she’d screamed when that fool coyote had run in front of the car.

  Maybe she wasn’t as competent and as comfortable as she’d wanted him to believe.

  And now she was heading home on unfamiliar streets, which would become wet and slick before long.

  “Listen, Gerald. I’m not going to stick around for dinner. I need to go.”

  “But you’re the guest of honor, Chase. I can’t let you leave now.”

  “You’re going to have to.” Chase turned to go, eager to catch up with Molly.

  Gerald grabbed his arm, holding him back. “What’s that little filly done to you?”

  “Nothing,” he said. But that wasn’t true. Molly had definitely done something to him. She’d burrowed deep into his heart. And right now, he needed to find her, to protect her. To tell her he’d do whatever it took to have her in his life. But none of that concerned Gerald.