Chasing Perfect (Fool's Gold #1)(88)

Maybe, but he wasn’t sure Charity loved him as much as she claimed. She certainly didn’t understand him. Riding wasn’t about being the guy on the poster, as she claimed. It was about being himself. He had to do this—prove that he could. Then he could walk away and get on with his life.

A couple of guys finished up a pool game and walked through the bar.

“Good luck on Saturday, Josh,” they called as they left.

“Thanks.”

“You okay?” Jo asked.

He nodded.

When he’d been a kid, Fool’s Gold had taken him in. The town was still there for him, in ways he hadn’t even known about. He wanted to say he owed them, but it wasn’t like that. They were a family.

He wanted to stay here, to be here with Charity. He wanted to marry her. When the race was over, he would explain again, he promised himself. Somehow he would make her understand. He finally found the one woman he was meant to be with. No way he was letting her get away.

THE MORNING OF THE RACE dawned bright and hot. Charity busied herself in her room until she was supposed to meet Marsha, then made her way downstairs.

Mary, the woman at the front desk, waved. “You still flying from the hospital agreeing to build here?”

“It’s great news,” Charity said, doing her best to sound cheerful. “For all of us.”

“My little sister wants to be a nurse. She’s excited.”

“I’m glad.”

“You off to watch the race? Josh is so going to win.”

Charity smiled and kept walking. No, she wasn’t going to watch the race. She would be there at the beginning, because she was part of city government and she would be expected. But then she would leave. What was the point in staying?

Josh said he needed to win. She believed that. If he lost, he would keep trying. If he won, he would be sucked back into that world. She was just a regular person—how could she compete with the immortality of fame?

She walked more quickly, wanting to get to Marsha’s house before anyone else spoke to her. Nearly everyone in town was heading to line up along the race route. Thousands of visitors crowded the streets, so she didn’t have to do much more than smile and slip between milling groups.

“Quite the crowd,” Marsha said when Charity arrived. “Every hotel room is booked and the restaurants are full. It’s going to be a good weekend.”

“I’m glad,” Charity said, following her grandmother into her living room.

They’d arranged to meet and walk over to the start line together. But instead of getting her purse and pulling out keys, Marsha headed for the sofa. Charity saw several photo albums lined up on the coffee table.

“What are those?” she asked, pointing.

Marsha put her arm around Charity’s waist. “Just some old pictures. Don’t worry. This will only take a second.”

Charity settled on the sofa. “Are they of my mom?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to spend her morning looking at Sandra.

“Not exactly.” Marsha sat next to her and flipped open the first album. There were several pictures of a young boy on crutches.

Charity recognized Josh right away. He’d grown up, but his smile was still the same. Heartbreakingly appealing. Would their son or daughter have that smile?

“I remember the first time I saw him walk across the street,” Marsha said. “He moved so slowly. I could tell that every step hurt him, but he never complained. He couldn’t remember much about the fall and his mother didn’t talk about it.”

She turned the page, showing more pictures of Josh. In some he was with another boy, in a few, he was alone.

He was so physically perfect now that it was difficult to reconcile the adult with the child.

“He’s come a long way,” Charity said, aware of time passing.

How was Josh feeling in the hours before the race started? Tense? Confident? He’d worked the program and conquered his fears. Despite the fact that it would mean he would leave her, she found herself hoping he would win. It was what he wanted, and she loved him.

“His mother rented a room in a cheap motel. One of those horrible places with bugs and rooms by the hour. It’s since been torn down.” Marsha flipped another page. “He never brought a lunch to school or had any money to buy one. The principal told me how he would sit in a corner of the cafeteria, carefully not looking at any of the other students. He must have been starving.”

Charity’s own stomach tightened. “She didn’t feed him?”

“Not enough. We arranged for him to get a hot meal every day. That helped. He was bright and friendly. He enjoyed school, all the kids liked him. I made an appointment to talk to his mother. I told her I wanted to help. But when I showed up at the motel, she was gone. Josh was standing in the parking lot. He said she’d gone out to the store, but she would be back. He’d already been waiting for three days.”

Charity felt her eyes start to burn. This time she didn’t fight against the tears, mostly because ten-year-old Josh deserved them.

“How could she have done that?”

Marsha shrugged. “I can’t begin to understand her. You know what happened after that. The town took him in. He joined the Hendrix family and started riding a bike as part of his physical therapy.” She closed the album and looked at Charity.