“I’m just going to sign the pictures,” Cameron said. “Just like when you helped me.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” Joshua cried, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “Son, don’t cry,” Cameron urged. “I won’t go near the car. You can come with me.”

  “No!” he cried. “I don’t wanna go! I don’t want you to go, either.”

  Cameron looked at Caitlin for help. “Why don’t we all go?” she suggested.

  Cameron had never had a more difficult time keeping a smile on his face. He tried not to keep looking at Caitlin and Joshua, side by side and holding hands, but he couldn’t quite manage it. It helped that Mike and Hope stood beside him to give the crowd and media more to talk about. Yet he was thankful when he’d signed the last picture, answered the last question, so he could leave.

  “That’s all. Thank you for coming,” Hope announced.

  They’d learned the hard way that fans got upset with the drivers when they ended the autograph session. He didn’t need that now.

  Cameron waved. “Thank you.” Clutching or admiring their photographs, the crowd moved slowly away.

  Caitlin started toward the trailer with Joshua, and Cameron followed. The crew and drivers knew they were living together, but thus far they had been able to keep it from the media.

  Cameron entered the motor coach after them. “Joshua, you want to play with your Legos or the entertainment center?”

  Joshua shook his head and went to his room. Cameron stared after him. If he was around, Joshua was usually like his shadow. He wanted to be with him, imitate him. During the autograph session, he’d barely looked at him. “He won’t even look at me,” Cameron said, his voice filled with remorse.

  Caitlin placed a comforting hand on his rigid arm. “He’s scared and confused. I better go talk to him.”

  “Tell him I love him.”

  “I will,” she said, and went into Joshua’s room.

  Cameron hadn’t felt this helpless since Caitlin walked out on him. He’d felt lost then just as he did now.

  He did know he had to get his mind on something else. He glanced at his watch. It was almost time for his practice run. Skipping practice would let Hilliard, the team, and the sponsors down. He reached for the door-knob. He just hoped that in the garage, he’d be able to fill his mind with an image other than his son crying.

  Cameron came back to the motor coach a little after seven that night. His practice time had been slower than his qualifying time. Plus a couple of times the car had gotten loose, the back tires losing traction on the pavement. The crew chief had wanted to know what adjustments needed to be made.

  It had been difficult to tell him. The fault lay with him, not the car. Mike, being an outspoken man, had two words he’d used numerous times before. “Fix it.”

  Cameron blew out a breath. He’d like nothing better. Bristol was nicknamed “the World’s Fastest Half-Mile Track.” Cars lapped the oval-shaped track in fifteen seconds. With the concrete racing surface and steep banks, a driver had to have his mind on the race. His wasn’t.

  Going to his room, he put away his driver’s suit and changed into jeans and a black T-shirt. Dressed, he started down the hall and saw the suitcase. His heart squeezed, his mind rebelled.

  He stepped in the doorway to see Joshua sitting by his mother on the bed. Caitlin looked up. Joshua, wearing headphones, kept playing the handheld video game.

  “Hi, Joshua.”

  There was total silence. Cameron reasoned he hadn’t answered because he hadn’t heard him. His worried gaze went to Caitlin’s. “Why the suitcase?”

  She kissed Joshua on the forehead, then stood. “I’ll be back, sweetheart.”

  His head came up, his eyes wide. “Where’re you going?”

  She brushed her hand across his head before answering. “Just into the hall to talk with your father.”

  “You’re coming back?”

  “Yes.”

  Joshua stared at her a long time, then went back to playing his game. Caitlin stepped into the hall. Taking Cameron’s arm, she urged him into the kitchen.

  “Why the suitcase?” he repeated.

  “I think it’s best that we leave before the race tomorrow, for both of your sakes.”

  “No,” Cameron said. “He needs to stay. He’ll be all right once the race is over.”

  “I don’t think so.” Caitlin blew out a breath. “The reason for the headphones is that he became upset when he heard the sounds of the cars practicing.”

  Cameron glanced skyward for a brief moment. “I’ll get you a room in a hotel in Bristol. As soon as the race is over, we’ll fly home.”

  “Unless I keep him in the hotel room, he’ll be reminded of the race almost everywhere we go.”

  “Let me talk to him.” Cameron went down the hall and into Joshua’s room. He fought to keep the smile on his face when Joshua never looked at him. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

  Silence.

  “I bet we can find a video arcade where we could play together.”

  Silence.

  Cameron placed his hands over Joshua’s, effectively stopping him from playing. “Son, look at me. I love you.”

  Joshua lifted his head, but he looked at his mother. “Can I have some water?”

  Caitlin had to swallow before she could get her response past the lump in her throat. “Your daddy says he loves you.”

  “Can I have some water?” Joshua repeated.

  Cameron pushed to his feet. “Let him go.”

  “Yes,” Caitlin said.

  Placing the video game on the bed, Joshua left the room, never once acknowledging his father’s presence.

  “I’m sorry,” Caitlin said, her heart aching for Cameron.

  “Have you made reservations yet?” Cameron asked.

  “Ten forty-five tonight,” she told him. “I got the last flight just in case . . .”

  “That’s not about to happen. I’ll get my keys.”

  All the way to the airport, Cameron kept glancing in the rearview mirror, hoping to catch Joshua’s eye. It never happened. It was as if he were invisible. Once at the airport, Cameron parked the truck and stood by and let Caitlin unbuckle Joshua.

  Cameron didn’t know how he would have taken it if Joshua had pulled away from him. It was difficult enough being ignored. His chest was tight, his throat ached, and he felt completely helpless. Guilt rode him hard.

  Instead of carrying Joshua into the terminal as he’d done all the other times, he was relegated to carrying the luggage and, once inside, helping Caitlin print out the boarding passes.

  Silently he went with them to the security checkpoint. Perhaps he didn’t look approachable or perhaps there were no NASCAR fans around. Cameron wasn’t sure how he would have reacted to a request for an autograph or a picture.

  “Thank you, Cameron. I’ll call.” Clutching Joshua’s small hand, Caitlin stopped at the entrance for first class passengers.

  Time had run out for him. Cameron looked at Caitlin, who looked as miserable as he felt. His hand slid around her neck. He pulled her gently to him and brushed his lips across her trembling ones. She hurt for him and Joshua. Despite her fears, she would never want Joshua to be afraid.

  Reluctantly releasing her, Cameron squatted down in front of Joshua. His son looked up at his mother.

  “I love you, Joshua,” Cameron said, hugging his son’s warm, limp body tightly. He closed his eyes against the stinging he felt. Just that morning, Joshua had squeezed him tight and told him good-bye.

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, he pushed to his feet. “Take care.”

  “You take care,” she said, blinking back tears. “He’ll be all right. He loves his daddy.”

  Cameron swallowed again. “Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye,” she said, then curved one hand around his neck, kissing him deeply.

  Needing her reassurance, the connection, he pulled her tightly to him, kissing her back. Slowly he lifted his head.

  Her fingers trailed from his cheek to his chest, as if reluctant to stop touching him. “When it’s over, call.”

  She meant the race. He glanced down at Joshua, who was looking across the aisle at a gift shop. His hand flexed on her arm. “I will.”

  Her smile brittle, Caitlin caught Joshua’s hand again. Together they went through the first class security checkpoint. Cameron watched them go, his heart aching.

  He might have lost his son and the only woman he would ever love. And it was his fault.

  Chapter 15

  Cameron was up at dawn, and in the garage with his pit crew at eight. He’d tossed and turned most of the night. Caitlin had called when the plane landed. They’d taken a cab home. Once she had gotten Joshua to bed, she’d called again.

  He’d promised himself he wouldn’t ask, but had been unable to help himself. “Did he mention my name or ask about me?”

  The silence was his answer even before she said, “No, but he went to sleep once the plane took off.”

  Both knew it was a flimsy excuse. Joshua spouted his father’s name all the time. “Get some rest. I’ll call as soon as the race is over.”

  “We might be out.” She gave him her cell number. “Cameron, he’ll be all right. Just be careful. The track—”

  “Caitlin, don’t worry,” he said, cutting her off. Thinking he’d frightened his son was hard enough to handle.

  “You just call,” she repeated.

  He could imagine her gripping the phone. He should be there to reassure her, reassure his son. His fault. “I will. Get some sleep.”

  “ ’Night.”

  “ ’Night.” Cameron had hung up the phone and lain in bed staring at the ceiling. She and Joshua were safe and back in their world without him. His loneliness was a deep endless ache inside him that he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to overcome this time.

  And this morning it had only gotten worse. He needed to keep his mind occupied. Dressed, he left the motor coach and went to the hauler and later to the garage. He moved from the hauler to the garage bay—talking to reporters and fans, discussing race strategy.

  Mike kept looking at him. Cameron knew the question when he asked him to follow him back to the hauler. The moment the door closed he gave him the answer.

  “Joshua and Caitlin went back to California last night.”

  Mike caught the expletive before it formed completely. “You’re in good standing to make it back to the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series. You came in second last week at Atlanta. Wins count more for a shot to be in the Chase for the Cup this year, but Hilliard and your major sponsor don’t want you finishing out of the top ten when the dust settles.”

  “I know.” He’d told Joshua he always wanted to be in the top ten.

  “Why am I not reassured?”

  There was a brief knock on the door before it opened. Hope stuck her dark head inside. “The reporter is here for the interview, then we have to hot-foot it to the stage for the check presentation for winning the pole.”

  Cameron grimaced. Joshua had been so happy when he had the fastest qualifying time, which enabled him to start the race in front. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  Hope’s perfect brow arched. “The check is for your own charity. You just played golf Thursday.”

  Joshua had been his junior caddy. “Doesn’t matter.” Cameron moved past her. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Hope looked at her father. The look he gave her wasn’t reassuring as he followed Cameron out of the hauler.

  “Gentlemen, start your engines.”

  Cameron flipped the switch to start his car and pulled off. He was the lead car on the outside of the track. Next to him was the second-place qualifying car, number 35 driven by Russ Simpson.

  Cameron wouldn’t maintain that position for all of the laps, but he needed to be there when the white flag came out, signaling the last lap for the lead car. To achieve that goal, he needed to focus on the race and not on the tears on his son’s face. Impossible, yet somehow he had to do it.

  His mind elsewhere could get himself and another driver into trouble. The Bristol Motor Speedway had spit out better drivers than him.

  “Cameron, how are things?”

  “Fine,” Cameron answered. They’d been around the track twice. He had to get it together.

  The next time the pace car came to the road leading to the infield he took it. The flagman waved the green flag.

  Cameron stomped the accelerator. Showtime.

  Sunday afternoon Caitlin tried to keep busy and not watch the clock, but it proved impossible. Neither her local TV channels nor the radio stations were carrying the race. The TV stations and radio stations that did were on cable or radio-satellite stations. She didn’t have either. She didn’t want to chance upsetting Joshua, so she found herself doing something she never would have done before today.

  While Joshua happily played in the park with Samuel, and another classmate named James, she listened to her newly purchased portable radio with earplugs. The news wasn’t good. With thirty laps to go Cameron was in fifteenth place. The commentators kept speculating on the cause of his worst showing in years.

  “The last time car twenty-three ran this bad was the beginning of the season five years ago. His crew had been in top form under his crew chief’s directions. Whatever the cause of Cameron McBride’s poor showing today, it isn’t because of his crew.”

  “I agree,” came the voice of the other announcer. “This looks like a completely different driver than the one who leads the series.”

  Caitlin clenched her hands and watch Joshua agilely swing from one bar to the next on the monkey bars. She’d been scared to death when she’d first seen him attempt the maneuver. Diana had calmed her, held her back, saying being overprotective wasn’t good for him.

  Caitlin wished she knew what to do now for her son. He hadn’t mentioned his father since that last day they were with Cameron. But what hurt the most was his leaving Cameron’s name out of his prayers. He had distanced himself from his father, and she didn’t know how to help him get over his fears when she was still dealing with them herself.

  “Look out! Look out!”

  Caitlin surged to her feet at the excited voice of the announcer. “Cameron. Please, God, let him be all right.”

  “Cars number sixty-seven and eighty-two tangled on the front stretch. The red flag is out and all cars have stopped on the track. Both drivers are all right, but they’re out of the race.”

  Caitlin sank back to the wooden bench, her body still trembling.

  “Too bad,” the announcer continued. “They were eighth and tenth in the race. Rookie Russ Simpson moves up to seventh place. Burt Haskell, in car forty-seven, remains in the lead. Only twenty-three cars remain. In last place is a car I’d never imagined to see there, number twenty-three, Cameron McBride.”

  “Oh, Cam,” Caitlin whispered, her eyes closed as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, for both of you.”

  “Mommy, Mommy,” Joshua yelled.

  Her eyelids flew upward as Caitlin surged to her feet again already moving forward at the frightened sound of Joshua’s voice. Her heart rate didn’t steady as she saw him racing toward her. She ran to meet him. He didn’t stop until his arms were wrapped tightly around her. She felt his body tremble.

  Her heart ached as she gently tried to remove his arms so she could kneel and look him in the face. She wasn’t sure if the panic in his voice was for her or if something had reminded him of his father. He’d awakened last night calling her name. He’d transferred his fear for his father onto her. He’d gone to sleep in her arms.

  “It’s all right, Joshua. It’s all right.” Holding his arms, she knelt. The ache intensified as she saw the fear in his eyes.

  “You were standing and then you sat down with your head down. You aren’t sick, are you?”

  She smiled through her tears. “No, sweetheart. I feel fine.”

  “You’re crying,” he said, watching her closely. “You haven’t cried since before.”

  With an effort, Caitlin kept the smile on her face. “Since before” referred to the time with Cameron. Joshua had to be extremely upset if he brought up the incident, but it also showed that by not mentioning his father, he wanted nothing to do with the man he once adored.

  “Crying doesn’t always mean a person is sad.” She ran her hand over his head in reassurance. “I cried when you were born. It was one of the happiest days of my life.”

  He stared at her a long time. She’d always been honest with him except when it came to his father. She was shading the truth again. Remorse hit her. Perhaps if she had handled this differently, the father and the son she loved wouldn’t be in so much pain.

  “I want you to come and watch me,” he finally said.

  “All right.” She pushed to her feet. Joshua, who had always been independent, now wanted her close. Cameron would blame himself even more if he knew. “Let me get my things.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She took his hand and silently they went over to the bench. Picking up the radio she had dropped, she clicked it off and dropped it into her oversized handbag. Perhaps it was just as well. Listening to Cameron’s defeat and looking at her son’s troubled face was more than she could bear.

  Slinging the wide strap of her handbag over her shoulder, she smiled down at Joshua. “Race you.”

  He smiled, quick and easy. “I’ll win.” He took off running, laughing as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Wishing it were the truth, Caitlin took off after him, careful to stay a couple of feet behind.

  “I won. I won,” Joshua shouted as he reached the monkey bars where his friends continued to play.

  Caitlin picked him up, swinging him around so he wouldn’t see her tears. Today, his father wouldn’t be able to shout those same words and, more than the loss of the race, he’d mourn the loss of his son—perhaps forever.

  Cameron felt like crap. He’d come in dead last. He’d let his fans, his team, Hilliard, and all of his sponsors down. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on the race. Five years ago at his worst, he hadn’t done this poorly.