“Cameron,” Mike said into the mic linked to Cameron. “You know what you have to do. Conserve gas and easy on the tires. We’ve studied the track and mapped out strategy. This one is going to come down to who can stay in the longest.”

  “Got it,” came Cameron’s calm reply.

  Caitlin bit her lip. Mike had given her a set of earphones, but had warned her that if she said one word he’d take them back. He didn’t appear to be the type to bluff.

  “You’ve already mapped out the point to hit to get the fastest lap time,” Mike went on to say. “It saved you during qualifying time; it will win the race today.”

  Caitlin jerked her gaze to Mike, but his face was a study in concentration as he watched number 23 in a double-file circle on the track behind the other cars.

  “When the green flag comes out, you know what you need to do,” Mike said.

  “Win the race,” Cameron answered without missing a beat.

  “The pace car is leaving the track, ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, excitement in his voice. “This race is going to be a hotly contested one. Burt Haskell and rookie Russ Simpson are looking for their second win to tie Cameron McBride, who starts today in thirty-second place. No driver has ever won at TMS who qualified that far back.”

  “The flag is out and there they go!” shouted another announcer. “McBride in twenty-three will have to race like he’s never done before if he expects to win after starting so far back today.”

  “The way he’s been racing lately, I’d say the odds aren’t in his favor.”

  Wondering if Joshua fully understood what they were saying, Caitlin hugged him tighter to her chest, then cut the mic off and whispered into her son’s ear what she’d always told him. “Winning isn’t as important as always doing your best.”

  Through the roar of the engines, she heard Joshua whisper, “We’ll still make Daddy the posters.”

  Pleased and proud, she kissed his cheek. “We certainly will.”

  Cameron raced smart. With forty laps to go, he was in sixth place; with nine laps left, he took the inside and passed number 90 on the front stretch to gain third place. His hands were clamped on the steering wheel, his eyes were focused on the two cars in front of his. One was Haskell’s car. He’d had the devil’s own luck today.

  There’d been two yellow flags so far, allowing Haskell to pit for gas the first time and tires the second. He’d lost his lead down to ninth in the thirty-seventh lap, but had steadily worked his way back to the front. He clearly intended to remain in the lead as his car stayed in front of car number 07.

  Somehow Cameron had to get past him. He concentrated, waiting for the opportunity. Patience was needed in racing as well as skill. Haskell couldn’t keep both of them pinned, and he knew it. Cameron’s chance was coming.

  “Fans are on their feet, and I don’t blame them,” the announcer said. “This is a race that won’t be soon forgotten.”

  “You bet,” agreed the other announcer. “Cameron McBride in number twenty-three has beaten the odds and now is in third place. He’s driving like the man who won his first Daytona this year, and won two weeks later at the Las Vegas Speedway.”

  “You’re right,” took up his cohost. “He’s been smart, patiently waiting his turn to move up, not taking chances. His crew chief, Mike Alvarado, deserves credit as well, but that might cost him. At the last yellow flag, McBride didn’t come into the pit stop. Haskell has an edge and plans to keep it.”

  With the last 3 laps of the 334 to go, Haskell went high on the third turn as he had done all afternoon to give himself the slingshot effect. Number 07 followed, and was on Haskell’s bumper.

  “Now!” Mike shouted in his ear, but Cameron had already gunned his car, taking the inside. It was a risky maneuver. He had to be out of Haskell’s way when his car came down and out of the turn.

  Out of the corner of Cameron’s eye, he saw the orange of Haskell’s car and then the open track ahead. He’d done it, but he had to keep ahead. Haskell wouldn’t go down easy.

  Caitlin was on her feet, clinging to Joshua’s hand, yelling at the top of her lungs with the standing 180,000-plus crowd. “Go, Cameron! Go!”

  “Go, Daddy!” Joshua took up the cry.

  Then it happened. Haskell’s front bumper banged into Cameron’s back bumper. Her heart thudded.

  Mike hissed. “Hold, Cameron. Hold.”

  Cameron held, but Caitlin’s hands were sweaty. Her throat was dry.

  “Is Daddy all right?” Joshua asked, his face worried.

  “He sure is,” Hope said. “And he’s going to be better when he beats Haskell. Isn’t that right, Caitlin?”

  Caitlin looked down at Joshua. His eyes were glued to hers, waiting. “Yes. We’re going to make that poster.”

  “The white flag is out, Cameron. Let’s make history today,” Mike said.

  Smiling, Joshua turned back to the race. “Daddy’s in the lead.”

  Caitlin looked, but Haskell had shortened the lead by a quarter of a car length. One mistake, and Cameron would lose the race. She wasn’t sure she could watch.

  “This might be a photo finish, ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer boomed. “Here they come! Here they come, going all out! Haskell’s car with his fresh tires is getting more traction on the track and gaining. Number twenty-three might pay the price for not taking on tires back at the yellow flag.”

  Caitlin glanced at Mike. His face was stoic, his eyes hard, his lips moving. She wondered if he were praying.

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  She jerked her head around. Her eyes widened. The checkered flag came out with number 23 shooting across the finish line and still in the lead.

  Joshua’s cheers were drowned out by the crowd and Cameron’s crew. Grinning, Caitlin watched Cameron waving his arm, pumping his fist out of his window in victory. She could only imagine the joy and triumph he felt. She shot her arm in the air. “Yeah, Cameron!!”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve just seen history made. McBride in twenty-three is the first driver ever to win who started lower than in thirty-first place, and what a way to do it. That was some driving. With the win today at the Texas Motor Speedway, he’s had three wins, more than any other driver in the NASCAR Sprint Series.”

  “McBride is going around the track in his traditional salute to the crowd, his arm upraised,” the coannouncer said. “He’s pulling off the track. His crew chief and team are waiting for him.”

  “They pulled off an upset today. His crew chief made the right call. Wonder what Haskell and his crew chief are thinking? One thing I can guarantee, there’ll be a shoot-out when these two meet next Sunday at the Phoenix International Raceway.”

  Cameron flicked the switch to kill the engine and climbed out of his car. He was immediately hoisted into the air by his pit crew. Over their heads, he saw Caitlin and Joshua standing nearby. Their proud smiles made the grin on his face bigger.

  Realizing he only had a few seconds before the media would descend on him for an interview, he waved her over. Smiling, she and Joshua came running.

  Placing him on his feet, his team surrounded him. He pulled Caitlin into his arms, his mouth finding hers. The kiss was far too brief, but he knew longer might have proved embarrassing for her since there wasn’t a doubt that they were being filmed.

  He had seconds. He took her hand. “I love you. Marry me.”

  Her eyes widened. Tears pooled in her eyes.

  A mic was stuck in his face, the glare of the camera lights hit him in the eyes. “What are you thoughts after such a phenomenal race?” the reporter asked.

  He had to bite his lip to keep the sharp reprimand locked inside. NASCAR had been good to him.

  “Speechless with thanksgiving,” Hope said, handing Cameron a bottle of Gatorade and his cap.

  Cameron frowned. It wasn’t like Hope to interfere with an interview unless it was going badly. Then he looked inside the band of the cap. Yes.

  He shot a fist into the air and put the cap on. He strained his neck, searching for Caitlin in the crowd, but couldn’t find her.

  “Looking for your team owner, Mr. Hilliard?”

  “Someone much more important,” Cameron answered.

  The reporter didn’t see Hope elbow Cameron. “He’s kidding. He’s still on a natural high.”

  “Yeah,” Cameron said. “I’m thankful to be a member of the Hilliard Motorsports Team, and to have a crew chief like Mike Alvarado.”

  “This is his victory as well,” the reporter said. “You all must be so proud.”

  “There aren’t words to tell you how I feel. Today is definitely going to go down as one of the best of my life.”

  “You made history today,” the interviewer said.

  Cameron took a sip of his drink, and finally caught sight of Caitlin and Joshua. His family. His life. “Yes, I did. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  Epilogue

  “You’re supposed to be nervous,” Brandon teased from his place beside Cameron.

  “You weren’t,” Cameron said, a broad smile on his face. “When it’s the right woman, it’s right.”

  Brandon slapped his best friend on the back and laughed. “Who would have thought we’d end up this way?”

  Cameron shook his head, and stared past the assembled guests to the flower-draped terrace door where Caitlin stood, a radiant smile on her beautiful face. Joshua was beside her in a tux with a white rosebud in his lapel.

  Cameron slipped his hand into the pocket of his tux and fingered the handwritten notes, delivered every hour by their son with a giggle and a hug. Cameron’s mother, Faith, and Diana had managed to keep Caitlin out of sight until now.

  Last night when he’d kissed her good night at her door, knowing people would descend on them early the next morning, she’d promised this time there would be no doubt that she’d show up. He’d cherish each note that counted the hours until this moment, when she’d pledge her love forever.

  The wedding march began and his world, his family, started walking toward him. Caitlin was a vision of loveliness in her off-white wedding dress. She looked like a princess in the full-length gown. Her eyes sparkled with love and happiness.

  Caitlin and Joshua didn’t stop until they were in front of him. He reached for her hand, allowing Joshua to step in front of them and to the side. They both wanted him to be a part of the wedding.

  “Who gives this woman?” the minister asked.

  “I do,” Joshua said proudly, and without the giggles of last night’s rehearsal.

  Diana moved forward and lifted the half-veil, then stepped back.

  This was it, Cameron thought as he faced the minister with the woman he’d always love.

  “Don’t forget to say yes,” Joshua instructed in a whisper loud enough for the wedding party and probably the guests on the lawn in the front row to hear.

  “We won’t,” Cameron and Caitlin said, then they smiled at each other.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re gathered here today in the sight of God to unite Cameron McBride and Caitlin Lawrence in holy matrimony.”

  Duncan McBride listened to the minister with a smile on his face. Cameron had overcome the odds. Again. It just wasn’t winning his second straight NASCAR Sprint Cup Series championship a week ago; he’d won in life, too—the woman he loved and the son he adored.

  He’d beat the McBride curse.

  Duncan didn’t hold out much hope for himself. Faith was happy with Brandon. Cameron was on top of the world with Caitlin and Joshua. The odds weren’t in Duncan’s favor that Lady Luck would strike a third time. All he had to do was look at the misery on his parents’ faces to know that sometimes you had to play the hand you were dealt—even if it sucked.

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  Neither Cameron nor Caitlin needed any urging. Duncan whistled, applauding with their family and friends. If he had to live without love, at least Cameron and Faith didn’t have to.

  “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Cameron McBride, and their son, Joshua McBride.”

  More applause. The legal papers were finalized six weeks after Caitlin accepted Cameron’s proposal.

  Cameron picked up Joshua for the photographer to take a picture, then set him on his feet and curved his arm around Caitlin’s waist for a photograph of just them. Then he and Caitlin were going down the aisle, hand in hand, heart to heart. Diana, Caitlin’s matron of honor, caught Joshua’s hand and pulled him beside Stephen, his best friend and the ring bearer.

  “Man, I’m happy for them,” Brandon said from beside Duncan. “Just goes to show that love conquers everything.”

  Duncan didn’t answer. He didn’t want to disillusion Brandon. Love didn’t conquer all. He knew and regretted that more than anyone.

  Read on for an excerpt from Francis Ray’s upcoming book

  AND MISTRESS MAKES THREE

  Coming soon in trade paperback from St. Martin’s Griffin

  Max kept the pleasant smile on his face as he led the travel agent and her party through the kitchen, the separate living room, and then up the polished oak stairs, pointing out as they went the various improvements to update the house that he had completed in the past two years.

  It was in the best interests of Journey’s End for him to be cordial, even when it wasn’t deserved. Besides, he had been around his friends’ teenagers and knew their brains often lagged behind their mouths.

  “This place was in pretty bad shape when first I saw it. It took a lot of hard work to bring it back to its former glory, but it was worth it,” Max said as he walked down the hallway with Gina. “The pine flooring beneath our feet is original. This is the first of four guest bedrooms.” He paused to let them enter the open door, watching Gina’s face closely.

  Neither he nor his aunt were decorators, but they had both decided that all the guest rooms should have a complete suite of furniture. He tried to see from an outsider’s point of view. The queen-sized bed was covered with a bedspread splashed with small pink and red roses. The topper over the single window—at least that was the name he thought was on the package—was in solid pink. It wasn’t so overly feminine that a man would go “yuck” if he had to spend the night there.

  Gina went in, looked around, glanced at the friend beside her, then, wearing the same placid smile on her face, came back out. The teenager, Gabrielle, didn’t bother going inside. She just kept the bored expression on her face.

  He’d expected more of a reaction from the women and began to worry. He led them to the next room. “This is the largest of the rooms. As you can see, all have antique furniture and adjoining baths,” he said, hoping to get some reaction out of the two women as he opened the door to the bathroom.

  Gina peered into the rectangular mirror over the new, upright basin and ran her hand over the stack of freshly laundered white towels on a shelf next to the white commode. “The claw-foot tub is nice. Does the other bathroom have a shower?”

  “Yes. It even has a bench.” Finally, some interest, Max thought. Perhaps he should have hired a decorator, but he had wanted to do it himself. It had been important to Sharon’s memory that he do this on his own, just as they had planned. But Sharon had been great with colors and design.

  Worry creeping through him, he followed Gina and her friend back into the hallway and watched them enter the next bedroom. He hung back a bit to let them have a better view of the room.

  “Do you have your first booking?” Celeste asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

  “Yes,” Max answered, watching Gina out of the corner of his eye as she opened the armoire, her son stepping in front of her to peer inside. The space for the TV contained an extra pillow and a down comforter. Max figured people on vacation would want to be out sightseeing and not watching television. He had put a small alarm clock radio on each nightstand. “Some of my friends from Memphis are coming up.”

  Gina closed the doors. “What is your official opening date?”

  “October second,” he answered. “A month from now. I wanted to give travel agents, such as yourself, and potential clients a chance to see Journey’s End and book.”

  “You must be excited,” Gina said, her hand on her son’s shoulder.

  “A bit.” Max was buoyed by the warm smile on her face. “There’s another bedroom, and then you can tell me what you think,” he said, watching Gina’s eyes widen, her gaze dart toward Celeste. Max knew that look couldn’t be good. “Or perhaps you’d like to tell me now.”

  “I, er—”

  “Mama thinks it needs work,” the little boy blurted.

  Gina gasped, her eyes widened with embarrassment. “Ashton!”

  “Can we go home now?” Gabrielle asked with a loud sigh. “This is boring.”

  Gina whirled on her daughter, then took her arm. “I—” She turned, her gaze stopping in the middle of Max’s chest. “Forgive me. I’m sorry.” With her daughter’s arm clasped tightly, she hurried from the room with her son close behind them.

  “He’s sorry. Thank you for the tour, and good luck,” Celeste said, then followed.

  “Well, that went dismally,” Max muttered.

  Gina didn’t release Gabrielle’s arm until they were by Celeste’s car. “What is wrong with you? How could you be so rude?”

  Gabrielle absently rubbed her hand over the upper forearm where her mother had held her. “It was boring.”

  “The world does not revolve around you, Gabrielle Evette Rawlings. This was business, and you knew it.”

  “If Daddy—”

  Gina held up her hand. “No. Do not go there. I’ve tried being patient with you, but today is it. When we get home, there’ll be no phone for a week and you’re grounded.”