“Yes,” Caroline shouted as her time and bib number flashed to the top of the standings. At 5:39:42, she was three seconds ahead of the second place rider. Caroline had been on the circuit long enough to know the racers, their strengths and weaknesses, and the five riders behind her could not beat her time. Except for the one that was coming down the mountain now.

In what seemed like an instant, Shannon breezed across the finish line and Caroline thought she was barely breathing hard. Her time was four seconds ahead of Caroline’s and she and Shannon, along with eight others, moved on to the next round.

The remainder of the day continued in the same manner. By her last race, Caroline had ridden down the challenging hill seven times, each time faster than the last, her confidence gaining.

Her parents and Fran had arrived the night before and were cheering her on from the grandstand adjacent to the finish line. Steven and Robin Davis attended as many of her races as they could, but money was tight in the Davis household. But there was no way they’d miss this one. Fran’s parents were so rich she was able to go pretty much wherever she wanted. Most of the time she chose to be with Caroline.

Surprisingly, she had gotten to be a pretty good bike mechanic and an excellent chief cook and bottle washer.

Freshly showered, Caroline walked down the stairs and saw her parents already sitting in the living room of the B&B. They were engaged in conversation with an elderly gentleman who was doing most of the talking with his hands. The fact that he was speaking French and her parents didn’t know a word didn’t seem to stop him from carrying on his side of the conversation.

“Caroline,” her mother said, obviously relieved at the interruption.

• 55 •


JuliE CaNNoN

“Hey, Mom, is Fran down yet?”

“Yes, she’s outside with one of the men working on the yard, or trimming the bushes or something.” Her mother waved her hand in the direction of the front of the house. “Why don’t we go find her?”

Caroline chuckled at how smoothly her mother made their escape from the man who had turned his attention and antics to the woman to his left. They stepped outside. The stickiness of the past few days had subsided leaving crisp, cool mountain air. The three of them walked around the building and Caroline saw Fran in a casual pose leaning against a fence gate. She was talking to a tall man with hair the color of coal and by the look on his face, she was working her magic.

“Speaking of romance,” her father said. Her parents had heard enough stories and been around Fran long enough to know what she was up to. “Are you seeing anyone?”

After the debacle in high school with Shannon, her parents finally came to grips with the fact that Caroline was not simply going through a phase brought on by attending an all-girls school. After four years at Columbia and three more getting her graduate degree, they were closer than most of her friends were with their parents.

“Not really.” Caroline couldn’t very well say that she had a torrid night with a near stranger a week ago. She could tell her parents anything, but she drew the line at her sex life.

“Not really or no?” her mother said. Caroline had four siblings, each married and some with children of their own, but her mother still worried about her. When she became a mother, Caroline supposed she would as well.

“Not really. Really,” she said to counter the look of skepticism on her mother’s face. “I’ve gone out a few times but nothing serious. I’ve been training, remember?” She nudged her mother affectionately.

“How could I forget? You don’t call and I can’t remember the last time you came home for a visit. Little Clarice is walking now and you’re going to miss it.”

At the name of her latest niece, Caroline smiled. “Mom, I doubt Clarice is going to stop walking anytime soon. It’s not a phase she’s going through. I’m no child development expert, but I think she’ll be doing that for the rest of her life.” Caroline loved teasing her mother.

• 56 •


Descent

“You know what I mean, young lady. Don’t get cheeky with me.

Your father and I aren’t getting any younger, you know.”

“Mom,” Caroline replied exasperated. “You’re both only fifty-two.

That’s hardly pushing up daisy years.” She gave her mom a quick hug.

“But I know what you mean. This is my last season, and once I get my Ph.D. and get settled I’ll be there so much you’ll think I moved back in.

Now let’s rescue that man from Fran and get something to eat.”

v

The next morning Shannon’s alarm buzzed incessantly. She didn’t want to get up. She hadn’t gone out drinking or partying with or without a sexy Canadian. She just didn’t feel like getting out of bed, which was odd because today was the finals of this all-important first race and she was atop the leader board ahead of Caroline and a rookie from Spain.

It was seven thirty when she finally rolled out of bed. She hadn’t slept well. Images of Caroline floated in and out of her dreams. In one, she was laughing, in another angry, in a third, she was making love to her, and finally, she was crying. Shannon couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in each sequence, but she knew she was in all of them.

Dressed and washing down the remainder of her breakfast with an energy drink, Shannon closed and locked the door behind her.

Her footsteps were silent on the plush carpet of the hall, the elevator barely making a sound as it opened its doors on her floor. The car was crowded and she recognized a few other riders as she stepped inside.

A chorus of “good lucks” sent her on her way when they reached the hotel lobby.

It was a short ride to the race expo and riders’ area, but Shannon opted to walk. Her start time for the first heat of the finals was after lunch and she was too keyed up to sit idly in the backseat of a cab. Her gear was safely secured in her sponsor’s trailer so all she carried was her backpack.

She garnered more than a few passing looks as she walked down the street. At five foot six, she wasn’t much taller or shorter than the other riders, but her shock of blond, almost white hair drew some

• 57 •


JuliE CaNNoN

attention. Most of the men and a fair number of women checked her out from the bold letters across her chest to the fitted bike shorts covering her muscular thighs.

As she neared the race venue, dozens of people wished her luck.

She wasn’t famous by any means, but she was well known on the circuit and by fans of the sport.

She entered the riders’ only area and quickly scanned the grounds for Caroline. She would already be here, Shannon knew, checking out her gear, her bike, and getting psyched for the finals. Shannon was leading Caroline by only four seconds, which on this course was like a split second. One misstep, loss of concentration, or missed execution in a tight turn and the race could be lost.

Shannon never understood riders who had to meditate or get psyched up for a race. She simply imagined the trail in her mind, rode the lift to the top, and waited for her turn to descend. She never took it too seriously, which made her relaxed and fluid on the course. Usually, she won or came in second. Rarely did she come in anything lower than fourth, and she had not taken a spill in over three years.

Frank Striker, the owner of TKS, was waiting inside the trailer when Shannon entered. “There’s my goldmine,” he said before she even had the door closed behind her.

Shannon hated the perpetual leer on his face, but he never said or did anything that would give her the right to slap it off. He was her major sponsor. She sold her image, name, and reputation to him in exchange for big bucks. She hated the business side of racing but knew it was part of the game she had to play. She had money of her own, but why spend it when she could spend someone else’s just as easily?

“Hey, Frank, how’s it going?” Shannon asked as her way of saying good morning.

“Makin’ money and makin’ more money.” Frank’s middle name was greedy.

Shannon didn’t reply but went straight to her bike. At times she felt more at home with her bike than she did with most people. The carbon, aluminum, rubber, and wire were an extension of her. A way to express herself, the excitement of life, her race toward the future. There had to be some Freudian hypothesis in it all, but she tried hard not to think that deep.

• 58 •


Descent

“You’re gonna take home the blue jersey today, Shan, I can feel it.

Davis can’t catch you, and the rest of the field are all wannabes. I have money that you’ll take it all this year. You know you’re the favorite.

Davis gets the sympathy vote ’cause of her broke leg, but she’s got nothing compared to you.”

There were many things that Shannon disliked about Frank Striker and he just about hit every one of them in his monologue. She hated being called Shan, his constant stroking of her ego was unnecessary and nauseating, and he never had a good thing to say about Caroline or any other rider.

She and Caroline were ranked number one and two in the world and she deserved, and had earned, the respect that went along with that.

“Caroline is fully recovered. She has just as much chance to win this as I do. As anyone, for that matter.”

“But she isn’t going to get a million dollar bonus if she does, is she?”Shannon bit her tongue on the first response that came to mind and chose the second instead. “Who knows? Maybe she will.” The rest of her statement was drowned out by Frank’s laugh.