The Heart's Victory by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online Page B

someone else. When you do think about it, you accept it as part of the rules. A crash is never the worst fear in any case. It’s fire. There isn’t a driver alive who doesn’t have a gut fear of fire.”
    â€œWhat about when you’re driving and another driver crashes? What do you feel then?”
    â€œYou don’t,” he answered simply. “You can’t. There isn’t room in the cockpit for emotion.”
    â€œNo.” She nodded. “I can understand that. But there is one thing I don’t understand. I don’t understand why.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWhy do people strap themselves into a car and whirl around a circuit at earth-shattering speeds. Why do they risk injury or death? What’s the motivation?”
    Lance turned and frowned at the track. “It varies. I imagine there’re as many motivations as there are drivers—the thrill, the competition, the challenge, the money, the prestige, the speed. Speed can be addictive. There’s the need to prove your own capabilities, to test your own endurance. And, of course, there’s the ego that goes with any sport.” As he turned back to Pam he saw Kirk step out into the sunlight. “Drivers all have different degrees of need, but they all need to win.”
    Foxy moved around the car, crouching and snapping as Kirk was strapped into the cockpit. He pulled the balaclava over his head, and for the moments before he fixed the helmet over it, he looked like an Arthurian knight preparing to joust. He answered Charlie’s questions with short words or moves of his head. Already, his concentration was consumed by the race. Beneath his helmet visor, his eyes were unfathomable, his expression neither relaxed nor tense. There was an air about him of being separate, not only from the people crowded around the car, but from himself. Foxy could sense his detachment, and her camera captured it. As she straightened she watched Lance walk over and bend close to her brother’s head.
    â€œI got a case of scotch says you won’t break the track record.”
    She saw Kirk’s imperceptible nod and knew he had accepted the challenge. He would thrive on it. From the opposite side of the car, Foxy studied Lance, realizing he knew Kirk better than she had imagined. His eyes lifted and met hers as the engine roared to life between them. As Kirk cruised onto the track to take his pole position Foxy disappeared inside the garage area.
    As the last strands of “Back Home Again in Indiana” floated on the air, the crowd roared with approval at the release of the thousands of colored balloons. For miles, those who were not at the Motor Speedway would see the drifting orbs and know that the 500 was under way. The order was official, ringing out over the rumble of the crowd. “Gentlemen, start your engines.” On the starting grid, tension revved as high as the engines.
    The stands were a wave of color and noise as the cars began their pace lap. The speed seemed minimal. The cars themselves, low splashes of color and lettering, were in formation and well behaved. They shone clean and bright in the streaming light of the sun. No longer could bird songs be heard. Suddenly the pace car pulled away and sped off the track.
    â€œThis is it,” Foxy murmured, and Pam jumped slightly.
    â€œI thought I’d lost you.” She pushed her sunglasses more firmly on her nose.
    â€œYou don’t think I’d miss the start, do you?” There was a long sports lens on her camera now, and she had it trained on the track. “They’ll get the green flag any second now.” Pam noticed that she seemed a bit pale, but as she opened her mouth to comment, the air exploded with noise. With professional ease, Foxy drew a bead on the white flash of Kirk’s racer.
    â€œHow can they do it?” Pam spoke to herself, but Foxy lowered her camera and turned to her. “How can they keep up that