Acres, Natalie - Bang the Blower [Country Roads 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

BOOK: Acres, Natalie - Bang the Blower [Country Roads 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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“Your timing is worse now than ever before,” Hank complained. “Some men might call you out as a dead-level idiot.”

“She wasn’t ready for that,” Duke said, the amusement in his eyes disintegrating as he spoke. “Maybe you are. But she isn’t.”

“How would you know?”

Duke parted his legs and placed his hands on his hips. He looked like a throwback from the Wild West just itching to draw his weapon and fire on the enemy. In this case, Hank was on the damning side of justice. “You know what she’s been through. She’s still healing.”

“There’s not a thing wrong with her legs. She just needs to strengthen them.”

“And you plan to help her do that by getting in between them as fast as you can?”

“That’s wrong,” Hank drawled, leaving his seat and heading away from the pool area.

“No,” Duke said, stopping him by taking a step in front of him. “What you’re doing isn’t right. She’s been through a lot of trauma. She needs to come to us when she’s ready.”

“Did you fail to notice who straddled who?”

Duke frowned. “I think it’s too soon.”

“You wouldn’t have thought so if you’d been lying under her. That’s for damn sure!” Hank shouted, leaving him to mull things over.

Duke trailed him. “Hank, wait a blasted minute, will ya?”

Hank stopped abruptly. He didn’t turn around. “I’ve loved her for over half my life. I’m thirty years old, and I don’t know how to love anyone else. She was mine from the moment I first saw her as a teenager, and now that I know what it feels like to lose her—and believe me after that crash, I thought she was gone—I’ll never let her go again.”

“You don’t
have
her yet,” Duke reminded him.

“Says you!” Hank yelled, believing after Julie responded to him as she did, there wasn’t anything to stand in their way now. She obviously still found him attractive, maybe even irresistible, and that chemistry between them was stronger now than in years past.

“Hank, you’re pushing too hard, too fast.”

“That’s what it takes. You oughta know that. If you want to make it to the winner’s circle, you gotta keep pushing.”

“So this is about racing,” Duke said, obviously put off by that possibility.

“Hell no. This here is about love. If the racing follows, and I suppose it will, then that’s all right. But if Julie gets back in a car again, that will be her decision. When she finds her place in my bed again will be up to her, too, but I intend to persuade her every chance I get.”

“Then I guess if I can’t beat ya, I might as well join you,” Duke casually pointed out, rubbing his jaw.

“Either that, or you may get left out in the rain when I decide to suit up and play.”

“You’re such a romantic,” Duke told him.

“Actually, I am,” Hank stated flatly. “I plan to love Julie like there’s no tomorrow. After I watched her almost die, I realized none of us have a guarantee for another day.”

“And if she leaves us again?”

“The thought will never cross her mind,” Hank assured him. “Duke, the only thing the time apart has done for Julie has made her more determined to get what she wants. She doesn’t know this yet, of course, but when she figures this out, she’ll go after what she wants…us!”

“You really think she’s here to stay?”

“Without a doubt.”

Duke chuckled. “And Julie thinks I have a problem with confidence.”

“I know, little brother. We both need to work on it.”

* * * *

Frank lit up the barnyard as soon as he saw her. He was already beet red from the sun’s favor, but there was something about the way he smiled that made him look like he was standing under heaven’s spotlight.

“Hey Frank!” she exclaimed from the cobblestone walkway. “I hear you’ve got a new plug down here.” She teetered toward him, convinced her legs were finally moving better than they had in weeks past. Soon, she’d toss the cane aside and walk without the aggravating crutch.

“Plug hell,” he grumbled, walking toward her. He swung his arm behind him and pointed toward the field. “That dappled grey Thoroughbred you see there is anything but a dutz.”

Julie giggled, and hearing her own laughter made her feel unusually happy, an emotion she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Frank had a bad habit of inventing his own language. A dutz, in Frank-speak, was anything considered undesirable, or not quite up to par. In this case, Julie agreed. The Thoroughbred was a far cry from a dutz.

“Where’d you get her?”

“Farm in Wheeler, Texas,” he replied proudly.

“How much did you give for her?”

“What’s it matter?”

She shrugged, appreciating the old games they still knew how to play. She’d missed bantering back and forth with Frank. “I don’t guess it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Frank said, handing her the horse’s registration papers. “She’s out of a world champion. Last owners, for whatever reason, just didn’t want to run her. They kept her off the track. If I’d had her…”

“She would’ve been a champion,” Julie finished for him. “You’ve never settled for anything less.”

He wiped his brow and slowly nodded, studying her with intense eyes. “That’s a fact, Julie. Anyone can look at you and know I produce winners.”

She sighed then, thinking of how proud she’d once made Frank. He used to tell everyone how “little girl” made good on her country upbringing, most of which she always credited to Frank anyway.

The old man practically raised her after her father was killed in a racing accident, and her mother killed herself as soon as she heard the news. Her no-good aunt couldn’t manage a child when her only concern was an empty bottle of booze.

Frank grabbed a nearby can of cola and took a swig before crushing the empty container under his boot. Picking up the can he’d demolished, he tossed it in a nearby trash bin and strolled toward the barn. “I want you to see something.”

Julie followed him toward the main facility. When they walked inside, she relinquished the horse’s papers.

He waved her hand away. “Oh I won’t need those. You put them up and save them. That mare is yours, little girl.”

“Frank, you can’t give me a horse for no reason.”

“There’s a big difference between can’t and can, little girl. Can’t would mean I couldn’t afford the dang gal—which I can—and that’s why you have her now. I think she’ll do you some good.”

“I’ve never owned a Thoroughbred.”

“Which is why I decided to buy her in the first place,” he explained. “I was studying on that a little while before we picked you up in Pennsylvania. Seems to me you and I have purchased a bunch of different breeds, but we never had us a Thoroughbred. I thought it might be right nice to have one. You know, see how we fare with this breed in the end.”

“Frank—”

He put his hand up in the air. “Not a word of this. I wanted to do it. I was able to, and I’m glad you like her.”

“Thank you, Frank.”

“Welcome,” he said, walking ahead of her again. “Now hurry up, little girl. I got something I wanna show you.”

They rushed through the elaborate stables like they needed to reach somewhere before closing time. At the back of the building, Frank slid a large metal door away from the wall and revealed quite possibly the best-looking stock car Julie had ever seen.

The black paint appeared to have a glittery tint in the color, sparkling like coal straight from the mine. The red letters were bold and fancy, the color leaping off the doors which would undoubtedly catch a spectator’s eye.

“Wow,” she said, barely realizing she’d spoken at all.

“It reminds me of someone I once knew in racin’. When I saw that car, I said to myself that’s an intimidating vehicle, the kind of machine my Julie needs to see.”

Julie was immediately touched. Frank rarely called her by her given name. There was something extremely heartfelt in the way he spoke then, and her eyes watered. “Now, don’t go makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’, ya hear?”

“I hear ya, Frank,” she returned, smiling. “So tell me about this car.”

“Well, there’s a lot to tell,” he said, taking a seat on a nearby crate. “Hank and Duke heard about a racing team that was having some financial trouble, and they picked up a few of these cars. Talk about owning a dutz. This car’s owner had a few of ’em. My guess is, he didn’t have a mechanic worth payin’. Sam McMann, the fellow you met there at the hospital, was the exception. He worked for this particular team. Really hadn’t been there long, maybe a few months but not more than a year.

“Anyhow, when Hank and Duke met him, he told them about some ideas he had, talked some hype about buildin’ the perfect engine and wanted to show them a design for a sleek car—and she is a beauty, don’t ’cha think—and told them his dream was to put a sexy woman behind the wheel of one mean, lean, powerful machine.

“Well, that kind of did it for Hank and Duke. From the moment they heard about this car, they pictured you drivin’ her. Maybe now you see why. She sure is a beauty, just like my little girl.”

Julie grinned. “Hank and Duke may need to recruit another driver now, Frank.”

“I don’t know why,” he said, zipping his lips all at once, which made her realize her response didn’t sit well. “They ain’t gonna have another driver, Julie. If you don’t take the keys, this car ain’t coming out of the garage.”

“What?” she screeched. “Why?”

“That Hank is a stubborn man, and when he bought the car, he sunk a lot of money into her.” Frank strolled over to the vehicle and placed his palms on the hood, smoothing his hands over the waxed front end. “Yes indeed. This car was built with the best of everything, has more safety features than you can imagine, and will run like hell.”

“Frank, I don’t want to race anymore.”

“Well, I suspect that’s about right for the time being. After a few weeks here, you’ll change your mind. The boys have a good team together, and I think you’ll see that after you meet some of the guys. Hinman Racing is family-oriented, and you’ll be right pleased with the way this group operates behind the scenes.”

“Frank…”

“I know. I know,” he said, placing his palms forward. “I’m pushin’ ya and trying my dead level best to get you to tell me what I wanna hear, but take your time. One of these days, you’ll see what’s right in front of you is where you’ve belonged all along. I believe that, little girl. I believe in you.” Frank backed away from the car and walked out of the bay housing the automobile.

“Why is that, Frank?”

He stopped abruptly and faced her. “What do you mean?”

“Me and you, we’ve always been close, but I never asked you how come you took me under your wing, so I’m asking now. Why were you there when no one else was? How come you loved me when no one else wanted me?”

Frank frowned, and for a minute there, Julie thought he might cry. Then, he gave her a surprise answer, a reply she never saw coming. He said, “I reckon it’s because I loved your mother so. I couldn’t have her. She didn’t want me, and that’s all right now. I took care of the only thing she ever loved outside of your father. I reckon I always thought your aunt told ya, but I guess it was my place.”

“You were in love with Mom?”

“She was the only good thing I had in my life,” he said somberly. “That is, until I had the opportunity to help raise you.”

“Oh Frank,” she said sadly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shook off the hand she placed on his arm. “Now we ain’t gonna have none of that here. I answered your question. You deserved to know. But discussing this like you might want to do will have to wait until later.”

Julie took a deep breath. “You dated Mom before she married Dad?”

Frank studied her. Sorrow took over his expression and he bowed his head. “No, Julie. Your mother and I had an ongoing affair for over twenty years. When you were born, I thought you belonged to me. There wasn’t any other explanation, you see, because your mother convinced me that she and your father weren’t intimate. I was the happiest man alive when I thought you were mine, and I reckon it really didn’t matter anyway in the long run.”

Julie swallowed hard. She noted the pain in Frank’s eyes, the deep-rooted agony the old man must’ve felt when he’d discovered the child he’d wanted to claim wasn’t his by birthright. “Frank, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, little girl. You’re still mine in my heart. Now you know why I always thought I had a say in everything you did back in the day.” He grinned and snickered. “Lord ‘a’ mercy, you were a handful back when you were a toddler. You used to aggravate the ever-lovin’ beejeezies out of Hank and Duke. It’s a wonder they still talk to ya.”

“They talk to me, all right. Or should I say, they talk at me.”

“Ah, now, here,” he said, walking toward the stable office. “You know how they are. They’ve worked for everything they’ve got, and rightly think if they put some effort in you, they’ll win your hand, too.”

Frank pointed at the wall of countless photographs depicting Hinman wins at various racetracks around the country. “Who knows, maybe they just wanna see your picture up there.”

“I’m not sure they care so much about taking a photograph.”

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