Bang the Blower (Country Roads 3)

She waited for his explanation. Apparently Frank thought he had it all figured out.

“It’s not as complicated as you might think, even though you could handle ’em when grown men couldn’t.”

“I just loved horses. Maybe they sensed it.”

“Nope, but you’re close,” he said, his eyes following an older gelding as he loped through the pastures. “You had no fear. The men who sold these animals often called them beasts, the devil’s creatures, and all sorts of nasty names. Of course some of them had a good enough reason. Me and you, though, we never bought any of ’em. We knew if we brought a horse home, gave it some attention and tender loving care, eventually they’d come around.”

“We’ve never had one that didn’t,” she reminded him.

“You’re right about that. It’s because these horses never sensed you were afraid of them.”

“I wasn’t.”

“That’s right. I don’t recall you being scared of anything I brought home for you to ride. You used to tell me, ‘Frank, I’m a big girl now. I can ride ’em all.’ And I declare you believed that from the time you were yay high.” He held his hand down to his knee.

“I may have been a tad taller than that.”

“Not much.”

“You goin’ someplace with this, Frank?”

“Julie, I want you to give that car a fair shot. Get behind the wheel and get a good feel of her, and see what you think when you’re only here among friends.”

She winked. “That’s where I was headed before I got detained.”

“You were?” Frank asked, his furrowed brow suddenly relaxed.

“Yes, Frank. Someone I love very much once told me: ‘If you want to have something in life, you don’t quit. You push forward when everyone falls back. You run the race when the others give up. You get up when everyone stays down. And you never get out of the race car until you pull into winner’s circle. Nobody wants to see you when you lose anyhow. After you get to that finish line first, then you can step out of the car with your head held high. Otherwise, don’t get out of the car until you’re back in the pits. Your fans don’t want to see a loser. The fans are only interested in winners.’”

“I said that?”

“You did,” she replied.

“I was some kind of crazy bastard back in the day, huh?”

“It was sound advice for a race car driver.”

Frank squinted his eyes and used his tented hand to block the sun. “Have you seen any of those around here lately?”

“Looked at one in the mirror this morning,” she replied, tossing aside her cane and running up the hill. “It’s a new day here at Hinman Racing, Frank. You’d better brush off your breeches and get ready to work! We’ve got a long way to go if we’re gonna win some races!”

Epilogue

Bristol, Tennessee

August 2011

Hank and Duke tried their best to help her relax. Duke rubbed her ankles and feet, even though they were covered in fireproof sneakers, while Hank massaged her shoulders. Frank paced back and forth in front of them, which may have been why she was so nervous in the first place.

“We’ve got less than ten. Less than ten,” he reported. “Ten and countin’.”

“Frank, it’s gonna be fine,” Julie assured him, taking a deep breath, wishing the first race was behind her.

“All right,” he said, squatting in front of her. “Let’s go over the strategy one more time.”

Before Frank had the chance to discuss how she’d win the race—and in Frank’s head she’d already claimed the victory—her lead mechanic yelled, “It’s time, Julie!”

“It’s time, little girl,” Frank said excitedly, yanking her away from the chair. “There’s no way we can go over everything again. Do you need to ask me any questions?”