by Dora Hiers
Was this what love felt like? Thinking about him all day long, and then again after she’d crawled under the covers at night, when he managed to wriggle into her dreams.
Lessa smiled. “Just like the pastor talked about today. There’s no room for fear in our lives when we experience God’s perfect love.”
Remi remained silent. She’d felt the pastor’s gaze drilling through to her very core. As if he’d preached that message directly to her. But how could he have known before today that she would brave going to church?
“Honey, you can trust God with your fears. And your man.” Lessa flicked her head toward the race. “He’ll take care of both.”
“How can you say that?” God hadn’t kept Remi’s father from destroying his life and those around him. “What about Dad?”
Lessa sighed, but her expression was one of peace and finality. “Honey, your father chose death over life because it was less painful. For the same reason, you’re willing to give up on love. Because it terrifies you. But is that really how you want to live?”
The truth of her mother’s words rammed the breath back into Remi’s lungs. She slumped back against the counter and stole another glance at the race.
Cars whizzed around the track faster than she could keep up. The numbers and their positions scrolled across the top of the screen. Mason appeared to be running in fourth position.
He was a man of faith, confident and committed. He’d shown her his character over the last few weeks. But was he a man she could count on for a lifetime? Not to be so full of himself because of the constant media attention and the groupies who followed him from track to track? Would he stick with her when times got tough?
What if, like her father, he went through a losing streak and couldn’t regain his momentum? What then? Would he still be the same man?
****
Ten laps to go.
Mason steered through turn two, gripping the wheel until he was sure his knuckles were white underneath the protective gloves. Sweat dripped down his back. His neck ached from four hours of constant stress.
Closing in on the end of the season, drivers were scrambling for points. Some of the wildcards ran all over the field, making stupid mistakes like cutting too close when they passed, and the tires weren’t holding up like they should. Two of his drivers had been knocked out of the race since the midway point.
Mason didn’t like racing under these conditions. Somebody was bound to get hurt. And he sure wasn’t looking forward to being that somebody.
He pressed the gas then backed off slightly to go around turn three. The car behind him hit the gas and nudged Mason’s rear bumper. Mason fought the natural turn of the car. Saved it. He punched the accelerator, and his car shot forward.
Nine laps to go. He was still in good shape for a win. If he could only keep these yahoos from acting crazy.
Another lap down.
Eight more, and he was closing in on the back of the pack. Ahead of him, a car turned sideways and rammed into the rail then slid down the track. Cars hit the brakes and jammed together. Smoke covered the track.
“High or low? Which way?” he muttered, concentrating on finding a way through the carnage of steel.
“Slow it down. Cars all over the track.” Shane, the replacement spotter, practically yelled into the radio.
Mason mashed the brakes, sailing straight into the cloud of smoke, totally dependent on the spotter’s instructions.
A mangled car drifted up the track in front of him. He jerked the wheel hard to the left.
A car slammed into the back of Mason’s, sending him into the fray of spinning cars.
****
“Oh, no!” Remi buried her face in her hands. An arm closed around her shoulders, but she didn’t dare open her eyes to see whose it was. She didn’t care.
Someone had crashed into Mason’s car, careening it into a huge pileup.
Remi trembled. What if he was hurt? Worse! What if he was killed?
She bolted from the couch and fled to the kitchen. She couldn’t just stay here and do nothing. But what could she do? How could she find out if he was all right?
Her gaze drifted to her phone.
No. She couldn’t call him. He’d just been in an accident, and she didn’t have any emergency contact numbers.
“He dropped the window net, Remi.” Jillian’s words should have soothed her nerves, but they didn’t.
“They do that to let everyone know they’re okay.” Camdon glanced over his shoulder.
Chilled to the bone, she paced the kitchen floor, rubbing her arms. Why hadn’t she just gone to the race like he’d asked? She could have been there, could have seen with her own eyes that he was all right.
Because she’d allowed fear to rule her life. As usual. And she was getting might sick of it.
Soft footsteps padded the ceramic tile behind her. An arm slipped around her shoulders.
She didn’t need to lift her head to know that it was her mother. She recognized the comfort of her mother’s warm hug and the vanilla scent. Fingers squeezed her shoulder. “Honey, he’ll be all right. He’s out of the car and headed to the infield hospital.”
“The hospital?” Did her heart just stop? She couldn’t breathe.
Camdon walked into the kitchen and poured another glass of iced tea. “Remi, it’s protocol. When drivers are involved in an accident, they are required to be checked out in the hospital. But he doesn’t appear to be hurt too badly. He walked to the ambulance.”
“Well, he was limping a little, but he’ll probably be all right.” Jillian rested her forearms on the counter, a sly look on her face.
Remi’s jaw dropped.
Mason was limping? She closed her eyes, and her chin dipped to her chest. Oh, dear God, please let Mason be all right! Please hear my prayer this time!
Her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket. She dug it out with shaky fingers and fumbled it on the floor. She bent to scoop it up, her heart stuttering and stopping at Mason’s smiling image on the screen. Relief made her legs go weak, and she fell back against the counter. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. I wanted to let you know I’m okay. Just on the off chance you were watching.” His deep drawl reached across the miles, his tender concern settling the tremors and warming her from the inside out.
The man just plowed into a dozen cars, but he cared enough to call and let her know he was all right? A sigh came from the deepest part of her soul.
“I was watching.” She looked up to see four necks craned in her direction, curiosity all over their faces.
Mercy! Couldn’t a girl hold a private conversation in her own house?
“Yeah?” Pleasure mingled with the disbelief in his voice.
“Yeah. Everyone’s here. Jillian. My brother. My folks.” She glared at the lot of them before twisting around to face the sink.
“Wow. Sounds like a crowd. I won’t keep you then.”
“Mason?” She held on to the phone as if it was a lifeline. She needed to hear his deep voice, yearned to see those crinkles that fanned out from his eyes, to smile at his contagious rumble of laughter.
Craved his touch. And those oh-so-sweet kisses.
But she had to settle for a staticky connection and a few hundred miles of space between them.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry you wrecked your car.”
“It’s just a car.” His voice held the tiniest note of frustration.
It might have been just a car, but he’d been in it.
“We lost three cars today. Not a good day for our team, but each of us walked away from the devastation. Remember what I said, Remi? God can take your fear and replace it with His perfect peace. He can heal you if you’ll let Him.”
“Is that what you do, Mason? Otherwise, I don’t see how you can buckle yourself into a car and drive so fast.” Or handle the hundreds of television cameras and microphones jammed in his face afterward.
“It’s the only way, Remi.”
“If you were here, I’d give you a hug.” And maybe a kiss, but she kept that to herself.
An awkward silence widened the gap between them. Maybe she’d said too much. She blew out a breath. “I—”
“Sorry, sweetheart. My crew chief was talking in my other ear. I’ll collect on that hug when I see you. Soon. Very soon.”
The call disconnected, and she realized she was smiling. She slid the phone back in her pocket and turned around to find four anxious faces peering at her, the house eerily quiet. “What?”
“So, he’s okay?” Lessa asked first.
“Yeah. He’s fine.” Remi sighed, and probably didn’t mask the dreamy expression quickly enough.
“More than fine if the gleam in your eyes means anything.” Jillian gloated.
Remi glared at her. “You’re not helping matters.”
One blonde eyebrow hiked in challenge. “It depends on which matter you’re referring to.”
Lessa hugged her. “I’m so glad, honey. But if he asks you to go to one of his races again, you should probably go. You might feel better about what he does, and you’d see for yourself that he was all right.”
Remi nodded. If Mason asked her again, she had every intention of saying yes.
****
Remi punched the pillow a couple times then rolled over on her other side with a huff. She’d been in bed for over an hour now, but sleep? Forget about it.
One thing kept her awake. Rather, one man.
A certain good-looking charmer who was wooing her with his sweet phone calls and generous help on the farm.
Was he for real? She’d been lonely for so long, maybe she’d just cooked up a companion. Like children playing with their imaginary friends.
A helicopter’s chuff-chuff sounded far off, growing louder as it neared. Strange. She’d never heard a helicopter flying around the countryside of Harrison at midnight. But then, she was usually asleep by now.
Remi pushed the comforter off and slid out of bed. She padded to the window in bare feet and lifted the curtain.
The helicopter sounded as if it hovered directly over her property now. She angled her neck, looking out the window in both directions. Then it zoomed over the house, and a spotlight aimed straight down. In her yard.
What?
She hurried to the front door and braced herself for a blast of cold air. When she flung the door wide, the chopper’s rotors slowed, and the engine finally stopped its straining.
What she didn’t brace herself for was the man who hopped down from the enclosed cab. Or the dog that followed.
“Mason.” The name came out on a whisper, from the very core of her damaged spirit.
She stepped out on the porch, hugging her chest, and moisture leaked from one eye. She brushed it away with her sleeve. Was it stupid to cry because a man visited a gal at midnight, by helicopter?
Mason reached the end of the chopper’s blades and stretched to his full height, slanting his cap-covered head to the house. With the help of the bright moon, she made out the droop of his shoulders, the heavy trudge of his steps. Even Goliath moved a little slow.
Not her. She took the steps two at a time then her bare feet glided through the wet grass to greet him. A couple feet away, she slowed to a stop.
Now that she was closer, she could see the smudges of fatigue lining his eyes. But, as tired as he must be, he still managed a warm smile and opened his arms wide. “I came to collect on that hug.”
She didn’t hesitate. She flew into his arms, resting her cheek against the coolness of his leather jacket. She closed her eyes and breathed in his essence, rejoicing in the fact that he was here, safe and no worse for the wear.
Was this a gift from you, God? Did you hear my prayer?
****
Mason’s arms closed around Remi and she snuggled against his chest, all warm and cuddly in her fleece pajamas.
He sighed, exhausted, bruised and banged up, but content. He’d made the right choice asking his pilot to swing by here.
With his cheek resting against the silky smoothness of her hair, he closed his eyes and savored the rapid rhythm of her heart. So fast, it rivaled his own.
Oh yeah. He wouldn’t mind coming back every Sunday night from four days of tracks and life on the road, from male egos and flinging testosterone, to Remi’s sweet embrace, to seeing the relief and welcome slide across her face. But then, he’d rather have her with him.
Hmmm…tough choice.
When she pulled back, he lifted his head to see what was in her eyes. He liked it.
The upcoming winter might be slinging its icy darts at them, but Remi reminded him of springtime. Of tiny buds popping out from dormant trees into an explosion of vibrant color. Like witnessing a new day dawning on the horizon. A new beginning.
Her fingers grazed his jaw, his rough whiskers making a scratching sound against her soft hand. He stilled her hand with his own then pulled it to his lips and caressed the inside of her palm. “I missed you.”
She angled her head, that cute little dimple flashing and long brown wisps of hair sticking up in all directions. “Did you?”
He leaned down and kissed her until she couldn’t possibly doubt his words. When he finally pulled back, he traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Yeah.”
“I missed you, too.” Tremors shook through her. From the cold?
He couldn’t let her get sick, could he? He tugged her back against his chest. Her breath tickled his neck, and her arms wound around his shoulders like they were made to fit. Cinnamon, jasmine and berries mingled with the scents of the animals, grass and hay. All scents he’d come to love as much as rubber and steel.
Reluctantly, he stepped back, away from the fire she sparked in his veins. If he didn’t leave soon, he wouldn’t be able to. She was too innocent, his faith too precious, to go down that road.
But tonight, his need was overwhelming and his loneliness intense. He wasn’t looking forward to going home to the big, empty castle.
“I need to go, sweetheart.” He planted a soft kiss on the top of her head and nodded in the direction of the chopper, his prearranged signal with the pilot. The engine whined, breaking the stillness of the night.
“Do you mind if I come back tomorrow?” There was no way he could wait until Tuesday to see her.
A shaft of moonlight spotlighted her dimple and the glimmer of a sweet smile. “I’d love that.” Her glance pinged to the chopper and back to him. “But maybe leave the escort behind?”
“A chaperone isn’t such a bad idea.” Maybe she didn’t need one, but standing here in the yard under a star-studded sky, holding her so close he knew she wore nothing under the fleece pajamas, staring into those sleepy amber-flecked eyes, he was barely hanging on to his last thread of self-control.
God, help me be the man Remi needs. Use me to help her crush those fears and take back her life so that we can walk Your path together. I love her, Lord.
13
Mason locked the gate to the llama enclosure and headed to the barn. Time to head out for the weekend.
Again.
How could the week have disappeared so quickly?
He sure didn’t like leaving Remi every Thursday, knowing that he wouldn’t see her again until Tuesday. Four whole days of not seeing her beautiful face, not hearing that soft tinkle of laughter, not stealing a few minutes to share coffee and a chat. And occasionally, a kiss.
His sigh came out loud enough that Jillian could probably hear it down the road. Trotting alongside, Goliath looked up at him with big, mournful eyes. Mason patted him on the head as they continued their trek. “Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean to scare you. It’s getting tougher to leave every week, isn’t it?”
He made sure all the tools were picked up and put away and grabbed the handful of dirty shirts. Jumbo was a little more sociable these days. Only three crud-blasted shirts in the stack. He grinned. Crazy, lovable llama.
What if Angela hadn’t asked him to check out this place? He mig
ht never have met Remi or these precious animals, who’d quickly become his friends too.
Doubt pricked him. Maybe that wasn’t quite accurate according to a recent sermon at one of the tracks. The way he understood the pastor’s message, so long as Mason stayed in close fellowship with the Lord and stepped out in faith, the Lord would shape his path.
And that path had led to Remi. So, even if Angela hadn’t sent him, the Lord still would’ve found a way to connect their paths.
“Come on, Goliath. Let’s go say good-bye to our girl.” The dog bounded alongside as they made their way to the renovated stable.
It was growing on him. Remi’s soft touches made it homey and comfortable, giving it a much more lived in feeling than his house, which felt colder and more sterile every time he walked in the door. Maybe he should invite her over to come up with ideas on what he could do to make The Castle feel more like a home.
Or maybe he just felt more comfortable here because this is where Remi was.
He pressed the doorbell three quick times before going in, their code.
She sat at the table, hunched over a laptop, one palm holding her chin, the other hand fluttering over the mouse.
More grant research probably. Stubborn little thing kept refusing his check.
“You know I could save you a lot of time,” he growled. Goliath sauntered over to the area rug in the family room and plunked down.
She tore her gaze away from the monitor, appreciation glowing from her face. “I know, but I can’t let you.”
The same argument every time he brought it up, and he hadn’t won, yet. “One of these days you will.”
“You think so?” Her tone full of challenge, she hiked that cute little chin.
In two steps, he was at her side. He reached out, tugged her off the chair, and swallowed her in his arms. He kissed her, slow and teasing, loving the way her lips and heart responded to his touch.
“Yeah. I think so.” Confidence oozed from his voice.
A soft gurgle came from her throat, and those gorgeous lashes finally fluttered open. “Is it time to go already?”
He could get lost in those flecks. They changed from brown to amber, depending on the lighting and her mood. Right now, she looked like she was in the middle of a wonderful dream. Dare he push the issue?