Sweet Carolina (17 page)

“How is he?” Butch Renfro pushed the door
partially open and stood with half his body in, the other half
hidden by the door, as if he might need to dart behind it as a
shield at any moment.

“Alive,” she said. “I'm surprised you
care.”

He had the grace to look chagrined. “I'm
sorry about what happened. Warner said he couldn't avoid hitting
him. You know how it is, one minute you're fine, the next…”

“Yeah, I know. Who won, anyway?”

“Petersen. Can you believe it? He went from
nineteenth to first in a matter of seconds. The kid did okay,
avoided every crash of the night, and came out the winner.”

Caro nodded her head. Sammy Petersen drove
for one of the smaller garages with few sponsors. They could use
the money. “Lucky.”

“Yeah.” He looked at his feet, glancing
toward the still figure in the bed, then to Caro. “Can I see you
outside for a minute?”

The last thing she wanted to do was talk to
Butch Renfro, but the time had come to consider his offer. Why else
would he be here? Hawkins Racing was as good as dead on the side of
the road – it was only natural Renfro would drive by to see what
parts he could strip before she was able to find a tow truck. If
there were such a thing. She'd been too worried about Dell to run
the numbers in her head, but his stunt today may have spun the last
lug nut off.

She glanced at Dell to make sure he was still
sleeping before she joined Renfro in the hall. “Make it quick, I
need to get back in there in case he wakes up.”

“I'm not going to beat around the bush,
Carolina. You and I both know Hawkins Racing is on its last lap. In
fact, today's crash may have done you in for good. Your daddy was a
good friend. I'd hate to see the doors close on his legacy, so I'm
offering to buy you out.”

It was exactly what Caro expected, but she
wasn't ready to give in yet. “I'll think about it,” she said, and
turned to go back to Dell. Renfro's next words stopped her. She
didn't bother to look at him as he delivered his coup de grace.

“Hawkins won't survive this, Carolina. Before
I came over, I heard talk that NASCAR is going to hand down a big
fine for Dell's part in this, and rumor has it they're going to
park you for at least a couple of races.”

Caro resisted the urge to rest her forehead
on the door and weep. She'd cried enough today, she wouldn't let
Renfro have the satisfaction of knowing he'd broken her. “They'll
do what they think is right. Thanks for the warning.” She pushed
the door open, leaving him standing in the hall. She pressed her
back against the door and closed her eyes.

“Caro?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice.
“Dell!”

“What's the matter?” he asked. He didn't know
how long he'd been out. Hours? Days? But Caro was still in her fire
suit. Battered and bruised, his dick still reacted in predictable
ways. Something to be thankful for, he mused as she crossed to his
bedside.

“Hey, you're awake. How do you feel?”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Like I got
hit by about a dozen cars?”

“It's a bit of an exaggeration, but not by
much,” she said. “I guess if you can joke about it, you aren't
hurting too bad.”

“I'll live,” he said, trying to sit up. He
winced at the pain in his ribs and dropped back to the mattress,
grabbing his ribcage with his good arm. “Son of a bitch!”

Caro's lips curled into a malicious smile.
“Yeah, you might not want to move too fast for while. You have some
bruised ribs, mostly on your left side. Nothing's broken
though.”

“Could have fooled me,” he said, through
clenched teeth.

Caro reached for the call button. “Now that
you're awake, we can go home.” She signaled for the nurse. “The
doctor wanted to keep you overnight, but I told him you wouldn't
want to stay.”

“Thanks,” he said, infusing the word with all
the sarcasm he could muster.

“What? You want to stay here?”

“No,” he barked, wincing again as his
knee-jerk response earned another protest from his ribcage. “You're
right. I want to go home. How soon can we get out of here?”

The duty nurse stepped in, and having heard
Dell's question, she answered for Caro. “You can leave in a few
minutes, Mr. Wayne. I need to check your vital signs. I'll have the
business office send someone up with your paperwork. As soon as you
sign on the dotted line, you're free to go.” She checked this and
that, and all the while Dell watched Caro flit about the room,
gathering…stuff. He had no idea what, and didn't care. Her eyes
were red and swollen as if she'd been crying. Shit. A memory, or
was it a dream? flitted through his brain. Whispered words. Caro's
voice telling him she loved him.

“Your heartbeat is elevated,” the nurse said.
Dell glanced at his wrist where the nurse pressed her latex-covered
fingers to his pulse. He willed his heart to slow. It was Caro. She
did that to him. He closed his eyes as the nurse silently counted
his heartbeat again. This time, she dropped his wrist. “There, no
problem. It's a little fast,” she glanced at Caro who was engrossed
in folding his fire suit and stuffing it into a plastic bag with
the hospital logo on it, “but that's to be expected.” She slapped a
pressure cuff around his bicep and pumped it up until Dell's eyes
bulged. When she was through, she winked at him. “You're good to
go.” She folded the cuff and replaced it in the basket on the wall
above his head. “Under the circumstances, a little high blood
pressure is probably a good thing,” she said.

“Thanks,” Dell said.

“No problem.” She bent close and lowered her
voice. “Don't crash this time. This race might be one you really
ought to win,” she said, then she patted him on the arm and
left.

Right
. Caro's whispered declaration,
real or imagined, echoed through his brain. He didn't deserve a
woman like Carolina. He had no business thinking of a future with
her. She gave herself to him once, and then she said it was a
mistake. Wasn't that the understatement of the year? But he
couldn't quit thinking about her, or remembering the feel of her
skin beneath him, enfolding him in her wholesome goodness.

She was everything a woman ought to be, and
he was nothing a man should be. Hadn't his dad said it enough
times? Caro deserved a winner, someone to stand beside her, someone
to support her. He wasn't that man. He didn't know
how
to be
that man. But it didn't stop him from wanting to try, as futile as
the effort might be.

He congratulated himself for making it to her
car in the parking lot without collapsing, but it was a near thing.
Everything on him hurt, and whatever they'd given him for pain wore
off long ago.

“We'll stop at a pharmacy and fill your
prescription,” Caro said as she drove down the ramp to the lower
level of the parking structure.

“No, take me back to the track. Aspirin will
do. I'll be good to go in time for practice runs this week.”

“Look, Dell,” she said. The hesitation in her
voice compelled him to look at her rather than the road.

“What?” he asked.

“We may not have a car in the race this week.
Butch Renfro stopped by. He said he'd heard rumors we may be parked
for a few races.”

“Parked? Are you kidding me?” He gingerly
supported his aching ribs as he tried to turn to get a better look
at her face.

“No, not kidding. He said there would be
fines too. I've been with you, and my cell phone was off, so I
don't know what's going on at the track, but Butch seemed to think
it was foregone conclusion.”

“Shit.” Dell turned his attention back to the
road. “We'll protest the decision,” he said.

Caro sighed. Dell didn't like the sound of
it, but he kept his mouth shut. They drove in silence to his place
on Lake Norman. Caro pulled up in front of his house.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said, bailing out
of the car as quickly as possible given the state of his ribs.
“I'll see you at the track.”

Chapter Thirteen

Caro rubbed her eyes with the heels of her
hands. No amount of eye torture was going to make the numbers come
out any better. She'd left Dell at his house and driven straight to
the track. She skirted the garages and bee-lined straight for the
NASCAR hauler, knowing they preferred to hand down bad news in
person.

Hours later, she was still sitting behind her
desk at Hawkins Racing, trying to find some way to make the numbers
add up to get back on the track. As Butch Renfro predicted, the
team fine was substantial and handed out with a liberal dose of
chauvinistic idiocy that made her blood boil. She'd stood quietly
and accepted their decree, all the while biting the inside of her
cheek to keep from telling them off.

“Caro?”

She jumped at the sound of Dell's voice.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed?”

“I'm fine. A little bunged up, but I'm good
to go,” he said. He did look better, but from the careful way he
carried himself from the doorway to the chair in front of her desk,
he wasn't one hundred percent yet.

“I guess you heard?” she asked.

“About the fines? Yeah, I heard. We should
protest, Caro. I don't care if they fine me, but the team? That's
wrong. I made the decisions, no one else.”

“That's not the way the officials see it.
They think I can't control you, and they're right. I've got no
business running a race team if I can't control my employees.”

“They said that?”

“They weren't that nice about it, but yeah,
that's what they said.”
Among other things.

Dell's eyes narrowed and a wrinkle appeared
between his eyebrows. “What else did they say?” he asked.

Caro waved his question away. It didn't
matter now. What was done, was done. Hawkins Racing was through, or
at least it was with her behind the wheel. “Nothing, Dell. Let it
go.”

He leaned toward the desk, his eyes locked on
hers. “Tell me, Caro. Tell me what they said.”

“Really, it doesn't matter, Dell.” She eased
back in her chair and sighed. “I was going to come out to your
house and tell you, but since you're here…”

“I've got a feeling I'm not going to like
this,” he said.

“Probably not,” she agreed. “Hawkins Racing
is through, Dell. I'm going to sell to Butch Renfro.”

Dell jerked to his feet and paced to the door
and back in long, angry strides. “What the hell for?” he asked,
standing over her desk, glaring down at her as if she were nuts.
“Tell me what they said, Caro. What would make you sell to a
low-life like Renfro?”

“It's more than what they said, Dell. It's a
financial decision. I was counting on the purse from at least one
of the races this week, and since we've been fined, and parked…
well…” He stood over her, still as a statue, and more gorgeous than
any man had a right to be, waiting for her to pour out her private
shame. Only he didn't know, couldn't know, how much she'd hidden
all season long.

“Well?” he prompted.

“I don't have the cash to pay the fine, and
make payroll, much less keep building cars at the rate we've been
doing.”

“And?” he asked. But how did he know there
was more? Was it that obvious? “There's more. What did they say,
Caro?”

Oh, what did it matter? It wasn't like she
was going to be able to keep it a secret anyway. Keeping secrets at
a racetrack was like trying to keep water in a leaky radiator. You
could patch the holes, but sooner or later, the whole thing would
give, and all the water would come gushing out at once. “They know
about us.” She wagged her finger, indicating Dell and herself.
“They know about what we did, or at least they suspect.”

“So?”

Could he be that dense? “So, someone saw me
leaving your coach the other day and did the math. It added up to
you and me, well, you know. Anyway, word got back to the
officials…”

“Are you friggin' kidding me?” Dell stomped
back to the door and returned to plop down in the chair he'd
vacated earlier and run his hands through his hair. “That's what
the team fine is for, isn't it?”

Caro nodded. “Yes.”

“They can't do it. It's none of their
business what we do behind closed doors.”

“It is if I walk across the infield looking
like I've been… well, like I just crawled out of bed. And, there
are pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“Apparently, female owners aren't allowed to
kiss their driver's before a race,” she said, sliding a piece of
paper across her desk to him.

Dell took the screen shot taken from a
popular racing website and studied it before dropping it back on
her desk. His hair stood on end where he raked his fingers through
it, and the line between his eyebrows was now a deep furrow. “I'll
pay the fine.”

Caro shook her head. “I can't let you pay my
fine, Dell.”

“Why the hell not? I was there too.”

“Yes, you were, but they don't fine men for
immoral behavior, only women. They're probably ordering you a
plaque right now.”

She'd never seen Dell turn that shade of red
before. He reminded her of a teakettle building up steam, ready to
blow. She held up a staying hand. “I'm over it, Dell. I believed I
could do this, run a team and be successful at it, but I guess my
dad was right. This is no place for a woman. Renfro says he'll make
this week's payroll if I agree to sell.” She picked up a sheaf of
papers and let them fall back to the desk. “I don't have much
choice. I owe it to the employees to make sure they get paid. I
can't let them down too.”

Dell hated the look of defeat in her eyes. It
did something to his insides, twisting them all up until he
couldn't breathe. This was so wrong. Carolina, his sweet Carolina
didn't deserve to lose her dream. And it was all his fault. If he'd
kept his dick in his pants, there wouldn't be anything to talk
about. She'd be above reproach. And damn, why hadn't he considered
the financial drain he'd put on the team? He'd wrecked enough cars
to fill a junkyard, and brought in very little purse money.