Chapter Twenty-Two
Kace pulled up at Kennedy’s pub. He hadn’t been here in weeks, not once things between them became strained. After his accident when he returned home all bandaged up and pretty pathetic, she had hinted at taking their relationship from friends to more. He couldn’t understand her change of heart about them other than to wonder if his injuries made him more attractive to her. He didn’t want affection because he was hurt or because she pitied him. He wanted Tara who treated him as if he didn’t have a concussion that wouldn’t go away or he was about to break into tiny pieces.
He pushed out of the truck into the morning air. Clouds hung low, and a drizzle beaded on the paint of his truck. If the weather was like this at the racetrack, the track would be slick, and the tires would take longer to grip the asphalt. He wanted to get back to work more than anything, which was why he had left a message for Drew, accepting his offer.
Jett and Lock might not ever speak to him again, but last night after his mother gave her blessing to sell, he thought he could move forward. The conversation with Paxton about his pending marriage to Tara also pushed him to give Paxton a yes. He had misread what happened between them. What he thought was something more than physical attraction proved to be nothing but an appreciation for each other’s bodies. He was about to get what he wanted, and still his stomach burned with something he didn’t completely recognize—uncertainty. Wavering on the track was dangerous.
Kennedy’s red Beetle sat in its usual spot in the lot. He had asked to meet her here instead of driving to her place or her to his. He wanted as much neutral territory as possible and no misunderstandings, but it might be too late for that.
He dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Tara’s number. What would she say when she found out about his day at the track with Kennedy happening not twelve hours after they’d been in bed together? Maybe nothing at all. He was the only one filled with jealousy. How could she accept Drew’s offer after what they shared?
He needed to see her. It couldn’t wait. He grabbed the truck’s door handle. He’d explain to Kennedy, somehow.
“Kace? You’re here. Great. We can leave.” Kennedy hurried toward him in her ripped jeans and leather jacket. She carried a cooler in one hand. She was pretty with her shoulder-length hair and curvy body, but she wasn’t Tara.
He couldn’t blow off Kennedy now. They were friends, and she deserved better than him making the fast getaway. She also deserved his honesty. “Just arrived.”
“I have snacks for the ride in case we get hungry. I also made up some chicken Caesar wraps for tailgating when we get there. I brought beer and water in case you felt like either. I wasn’t sure if you were drinking. I can drive if it’s going to make you feel sick to drive. How do you feel, by the way? Your mom mentioned you never talk about how you’re doing.”
He took the cooler from her and put it in the back of his truck. “How about we table the concussion talk for the day? And I’ll drive.” He would have to remind his mother to stop gossiping about his health.
“Sure. Whatever you want. I’m just glad we’re going.” She placed a small kiss on his cheek. The gesture left him hollow and embarrassed.
“Kennedy, I think we should clear something up.” His phone vibrated in his pocket. “I need a second.” He took the phone to the other side of the lot, hoping the call was from Tara, but a glance at the screen made his insides burn. He didn’t need this now.
“What?”
“You accepted an offer to sell.” Jett’s riled voice echoed through the phone.
“The lawyer called you already.” Because it was Saturday and because he had only left a message for Paxton saying he accepted, he had hoped Jett wouldn’t find out until next week. It would give him time to get up the nerve to tell Jett himself.
“You didn’t have the balls to tell me. You let me get blindsided by a call from some hotshot attorney.”
“You knew this was happening. I can’t invest in the team without the money. You still have plenty of land left. Your guests won’t even notice.” But Jett would. And his grandfather would. His grandfather had risked everything by leaving the reservation to marry a White woman and buy land on loan. The land should stay in the Ryker family, but this Ryker wasn’t a rancher. Maybe his grandfather would understand, after all. He had chased his dreams. That’s what he was doing now.
“We’re through, me and you. You got me?” Jett continued to yell, and he pulled the phone away from his ear. “I need every inch of this land to save this ranch from that lawsuit because if I lose, then I have to sell off pieces to pay up. Me. Did you hear that? Me. I’m the one responsible here. Not you. You and Gage didn’t stick around. You wanted another career. So fine. Go. This ranch belongs to me. It’s my hard work and Lock’s that make this place happen. Not you. You had no right to accept any offer. You selling a fourth of what I own will ruin me.” Jett hung up.
He stared at the phone before shoving it in his pocket. Kennedy stood at the back of the truck, watching him.
He shoved the anger down before it poured out of his mouth in a stream of curses. His head pounded. The lot tilted before righting itself. He needed Tara, but he’d screwed that up by leaving in an angry rage. Had he stayed calm, told her he understood her fears, maybe she wouldn’t have said yes to that marriage proposal.
The only thing that had made sense in his life was driving. If he couldn’t have Tara, then he had to go to the one place that made him feel better.
“Are you ready?” He jumped into the truck and kicked over the engine.
She slid in beside him. “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” And he peeled out to prove his point.
****
Going to the racetrack with Kennedy had been a mistake. Kace had never believed he would say the words racetrack and mistake in the same sentence before today. She had flirted with him the whole ride over. Now they sat on the tail of his truck and ate lunch. She hinted about wanting to go out again. He had tried the friends speech, but that didn’t appear to be working. And why would it? They were friends.
“We should head inside. They’ll be opening the doors for ticket holders to go to the pit.” She jumped off the truck’s tail and straightened her shirt.
He didn’t move. He wasn’t ready to go inside if he couldn’t drive in the race.
“Are you feeling okay?” Her smile wavered.
“You don’t need to keep asking me that.” He closed the tailgate and dug out his phone, hoping to see Tara’s name on the screen, but only some social media notifications lit up. He should just call her. “I need a sec.”
The call went to voicemail. “Tara, please call me back. I need to talk to you.”
He turned to Kennedy, who watched him with wide eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her, but Tara was in his heart now.
“All set?” Her smile faltered.
“Let’s go.”
They followed the small crowd inside and toward the back. He knew the path that would lead to where the pit crews gathered. Kennedy rambled on about something, but he wasn’t getting it all. With each step the pain in his head increased. He wanted to rip the posters off the wall. This was all supposed to be his. He deserved his chance to make it. He’d worked his whole life for that moment, and it was over. Even with the investment in the new team, if he didn’t feel better, would he crash again?
Someone took their tickets. Heat filled Kace’s face. He had become nothing more than a spectator to his sport. His fists clenched at his sides. He needed Tara’s hands on his knotted shoulders.
“Isn’t this fun?” Kennedy placed a hand on his elbow.
“Sure.” He couldn’t meet her gaze and didn’t have the energy to remove her hand.
The tour guide brought them around to the places where mechanics worked on cars and orders were shouted for new brakes, nuts, and bolts, but he didn’t listen to a word the guide said. He could build an engine himself. He didn’t need to hear the dime-store explanation of an engine part. The smell of oil and grease turned his stomach. Once they got to the stands, he’d feel better. He could bail halfway through the race with the excuse of not feeling well. Kennedy would understand, especially with the long drive back.
“Thanks for coming, everyone. Enjoy the race.” The guide held the door open. He was almost home free.
“Excuse me. Would you happen to be Kace Ryker?” A man in a white suit and matching cowboy hat gripped his arm and offered a bright smile.
“He is,” Kennedy said before he could decide if he wanted to admit it or not.
“Well, I’ll be. Roy Burger.” The man held out his hand. “I’m a fan, son.”
“Roy Burger? The Roy Burger?” Kace shook hands. Roy Burger was a billionaire oil tycoon who also owned stock-car racing teams. He was the only small-team owner to make the top ten in the Southern November championship race against all the other major teams with huge budgets. And Roy Burger knew him.
Roy slapped his leg and laughed. “One and the same.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir. But how do you know who I am?” Sure, he’d been around the track a few hundred times, but he had never come out of the semipros. Someone like Roy Burger wouldn’t pay attention to him.
“I was at the race where your accident happened. I wanted to know about the young man who was injured. After I did a little digging, well, wooey, boy, was I impressed. How ya feeling, son?”
“I feel great. Never better.” He avoided looking at Kennedy. Even though he had never admitted to her how he really felt, she might see through his lie this time.
“Glad to hear it. Are you visiting some old friends?”
The words explaining his presence as an average tour goer dried up on his tongue. He swallowed. “No, sir. We’re here to watch the race.”
“From the stands?” Roy’s forehead wrinkled with confusion.
“Looks that way.”
“I won’t have that. You come sit in my box and watch with me. I have a team racing here today. I happened to be in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop in to see them. It’s my lucky day to find you here in the crowd.” Roy gestured toward the door, and they went into the labyrinth of the stadium’s back half.
“Thank you, but you don’t have to host us in your box,” he said.
Roy punched the button for the elevator. “Nonsense. You can’t have a beautiful lady like this one here sitting with the crowd. You didn’t introduce your lady friend, son.”
“I’m sorry. This is Kennedy Stark.”
A red blush rose up Kennedy’s neck. When had she become so quiet around him? Was this the same woman who always had given Gage a bad time for hurting Calista? Kennedy seemed like someone else. Timid. Unlike Tara, who would have squared her shoulders and introduced herself with pride and confidence.
“My pleasure, Miss Stark.” Roy tipped his hat and allowed her to pass him into the elevator.
“Nice to meet you.”
They entered a small viewing box. One wall was lined with tables of food. A server in a black-and-white uniform stood at attention at the far end of the table. High-top round tables for two lined the other wall, offering seating for eight. The box opened to more seating that allowed spectators a great view of the track. The chilly, damp air outside came through the open sliders and mixed with the heat inside the owner’s box. Three people had already taken their seats to watch the race. The roar of engines lining up on the track along with the music of the introduction lap drifted toward them.
Roy pointed to the table and held the chair for Kennedy. “When are you coming back to racing?”
The server brought them plates of food and sneaked back to her spot in the corner. Kennedy nibbled on the puffed pastry.
“I’m hoping soon.” As of this morning, sooner than he thought. He could invest in the racing team and get a chance behind the wheel again.
“Has another pro team approached you to drive for them?”
“Not exactly, sir. I think that specific opportunity has passed. Most pro-owners don’t want a driver my age. They want the younger guys. I’m investing in a brand-new team willing to take a chance.”
“A new team, huh? That’s a mighty big expense.” Roy cut into his baked bacon jalapeno wrap. “Do they have enough sponsorship?”
“I’m not entirely sure how much independent sponsorship they have. They’re taking more of the approach that everyone on the team will invest.”
“That’s risky business. It’s hard for new teams to last.” Roy signaled for the attendant to bring over cans of soda.
Kace knew the risks of investing in a new team. He had seen many teams crumble and go under because their funding ran out. “It’s my only way back to doing the one thing I love most.”
“Did your father get you into racing?”
“No, sir. My father passed away when I was eight. A family friend started me on go-karts to help get over the loss.” He would owe Gus eternally for that.
“Miss Stark, what do you think of your young man’s racing?” Roy pointed with his fork and smiled at Kennedy.
Her face turned three shades of red. “I’ve known Kace our whole lives. The thing he loves most is racing. Nothing else comes close.”
“You don’t mind sharing him with his mistress?”
“We’re just friends.” He jumped in before she could answer. Maybe she’d understand now. Even if Tara did marry Drew and left him, he and Kennedy could never have what he and Tara had shared even for a brief moment.
“How old are you?” Roy said to him around another bite of food.
“I’m thirty-six.”
“That’s mighty young in my book. I’ve been around racing my whole life. What it doesn’t need any more of are these young guys who want to race only for the money. They don’t have the heart and the wounds that go with a long-term career. Something tells me you understand that.”
“I believe I do.”
They talked for a while more before taking seats to watch the race. Instead of leaving halfway through, they stayed until the end. He and Roy talked the entire time about racing strategies and car development. He told Roy about Gus and how he was the man integral in bringing racing into his life. Roy gave him a good-ole-boy hug goodbye and walked them to the door.
“I’ve got a proposition for you,” Roy said.
“What’s that?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. Roy would probably ask Kace to visit the garage next time he was in town or come by and work on some cars.
“How about you come work for me?”
“Do you need a spotter or something?” Just as he figured.
Roy slapped his leg and laughed again. “Are you pulling my tailpipe, son? I told you I looked you up after that accident. A spotter.” He shook his head. “I want you to come race for me in the Southern November. We fought our way into the finals, but my driver is out. We’re the underdog again, and I think someone with your fire could give me another win against the big boys.”
“I’m not sure. I mean, thank you, but I have some commitments to this other team.” And two brothers that were ready to kill him for dividing their family. Rykers didn’t do that. It was unforgivable.
“Do you really want to spend your money and risk losing it all in one crash? It could happen with this new team of yours. You come race for me, and the risk is all mine. You just have to drive. Isn’t that what you love doing? You don’t want to worry about being the boss of an entire team, do you?”
“I just want to drive.” He hadn’t thought about the pieces of being a team owner. The idea of driving had blinded him to any other thoughts.
“Then save your money and invest in a team when your driving days are behind you. You could race for another twenty years if you wanted.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” If he didn’t invest, he wouldn’t have to take Drew’s offer. If Drew and Tara married, then he wouldn’t have to see her all the time. And Jett would stop being mad at him. He didn’t want to fight with his brother. He just wanted him to understand.
He’d have to tell the other investors he couldn’t get the money. What would that do to Gus and his reputation? No matter his choice, someone would be let down. “Thank you, sir. I’d like to take you up on the offer.”
“Well, woo-ey!”
Night had fallen by the time they returned to Backwater and he pulled into the parking lot of Kennedy’s pub filled with the cars of her loyal patrons. She hadn’t said much on the ride home, and he hadn’t encouraged conversation. His mind had looped around the entire day and the luck he finally had.
“Thanks for a nice day.” She grabbed her bag from the floor of the truck.
“I should be thanking you. If I hadn’t been there today, I wouldn’t have the chance to race.” He wanted her to understand he would always care about their friendship, but he couldn’t give her anything else.
“I’m pretty sure he would’ve tracked you down. Looks like you’re going back.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“Looks that way.” He pulled away.
“This is a dream come true for you. You don’t sound excited about it. I don’t understand.”
“I am.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“No problem. Listen, I don’t know how to say this. I really appreciate you getting the tickets and all. But I meant what I said to Roy. You and I, we’re good friends. I want it to stay that way.”
She hopped out of the truck and turned back to him. “It’s that new woman working at the ranch. The one you called earlier today. You like her.”
“It’s not that. I just…” He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t explain how he felt about Tara without hurting Kennedy. And since no chance of a relationship with Tara existed now, what difference did it make if he tried?
“It’s okay, Kace. I thought maybe there was something more between us, but you don’t want that, and I don’t think I do either. Watching you in your element today showed me you would never look at me the way you look at a race car. I can’t compete with that. And I don’t want to. I’ll see you, okay?”
He stared at her, unsure of what to say. She was right about his love of cars and racing. Until recently, he couldn’t see anything else. The track had helped him today in more ways than one because Kennedy understood he couldn’t belong to her.
“Sure. I’ll see you.”
She headed into the bar, and he pulled out into traffic. Oncoming headlights blurred on the rain-splattered windshield until the wipers kicked in. A renewed energy circled in his blood.
Today, while he sat with Roy and listened to the possibilities of a future in racing, a future that didn’t include the pain and dizziness that plagued him all the time, his chest had filled with pride. Pride for having worked hard at his sport. Pride for making something of himself that his father would be proud of. Pride for keeping his symptoms to himself and not complaining about them. Today he felt like a man. He wanted to share the whole experience with Tara, but she had never called him back.
He turned right at the fork to head back to the ranch. At the main building, he turned right again instead of left. He had a stop to make before heading to his cottage. He hoped he wasn’t too late.
****
Tara turned in circles in her small cottage. She didn’t know what to do first or where to go once she figured it out. The night met the windows, and the rain tapped on the roof, oblivious to her pain. The day had been a blur of clients until Jett arrived as she was cleaning up to go home.
She had only wanted to come home and put her aching feet on the coffee table while sipping tea and watching mindless television. She had needed a few hours to decompress and process the call from Mrs. Herman and Drew’s marriage proposal. Even though things had ended badly last night with Kace, she wanted to talk to him about it all.
Just as she was packing up to leave the spa for the day, Jett had marched in. His face was set in hard lines. His eyes were as black as the night on the other side of those windows and as cold as the rain on the roof. Her body tensed, knowing what was happening before her mind caught up.
“You’re fired,” he said.
He’d gone on to explain Mrs. Little had broken out in a full-body rash from the lotion used on her in the spa. She doubted that was true because all the ingredients were natural, but she had no proof. She had used her own lotion when he asked her not to. That violation was enough to get her canned. She had twenty-four hours to vacate the cottage.
She had no job and no place to live and a child to take care of. How could she possibly ever agree to testify against Drew now?
She flopped onto the sofa and held her head in her hands. She would need boxes and have to spend the entire night packing. Where would they go? And how would she get another job after being fired from a place like Ryker Ranch? She’d need a new career too. Drew’s proposal started to take root in her mind like the seedling of a plant. With tender care, she could grow that proposal into a flower with thorns. As long as she was careful, she could appreciate the beauty and not get pricked.
Drew could take care of her and Royce until she got on her feet. Maybe another certification. Or she could go back to school. Or she could live off the laurels of being Drew Paxton’s wife. She would contain her humiliation, though she would have to live with her decision to hide in his shadow. How long would she be able to keep that up?
She would never have to try and sell another lotion ever again. She didn’t have what it took to make it. She would always be the girl from the wrong side of the tracks with the father who hit her and her mother.
Her body hurt with the ache of indecision and long days working the stress out of others. She curled up on the couch and pulled her knees into her chest. If she threw everything they owned into garbage bags, maybe she could be out in a couple of hours. They could leave in the middle of the night when no one would notice.
She had come to the end of the road with nowhere else to turn. And no one to turn to. This was the life she had built, and she would have to accept the consequences of it. She couldn’t have it all. She should stop trying.
In the morning, she’d call Drew and accept.