The crowd was roaring with laughter and cheering as the last leg of the race began. Hank and Veronica were neck and neck for first place with Team Lady Gaga, led by Jerry Batson of Batson’s Grocery Store, when Jerry and his wife took the lead. It was close down the straightway until Jerry’s platinum blonde wig suddenly hung a U-turn in the wind, flopped in his eyes and he had to stop to right it and lost second place to Team Runaway Bride.
Hank and Veronica streaked across the finish line amidst wild cheering. The crowd surged around them as Hank grabbed her from the wheelchair and gave her a big kiss right there in front of everyone. Once he set her back on her feet, she jumped up and down, and Travis grabbed her up after the race organizer handed her the first place trophy and declared them the winners of the First Annual Wheelchair Drag Race Charity Relay. She laid a sweet kiss on his lips as he lowered her to the ground.
“Hey, hey! Get a room, you two!” Maizy crowed gleefully as Heath ran by with her over his shoulder, their second place trophy in her hand.
All of the teams had gone around town getting sponsorships and one-upping each other, procuring matching funds, and making challenges to double money if the other runners finished the race. In short, there were no losers. The event was a fantastic success and the crowd cheered when the amount of money raised was announced and all of the businesses offering matching funds were named.
Their friends crowded around, congratulating them. Grace and Charity waded into the throng and hugged Veronica and Travis, and Charity said, “Travis, I can see the difference the two of you have made in Veronica’s life. I hope you plan to keep her.”
Travis grinned. “We’re going to do our best, Charity. Y’all taking off for your ride?”
Charity grinned, “Yeah, our friends have showed up. We’re going to hang out for a few minutes and eat lunch before heading up into the Hill Country. You should come with us sometime.”
He’d often thought about investing in a bike but hadn’t wanted to store it in DC. Maybe now that could change.
The event organizers came forward to congratulate them and thank them for being good sports and participating in the race in costume. Travis met one of the boy’s ranch coordinators and after he briefly shared his qualifications, he had an interview lined up and a new frame of reference for his future. They were looking for a facility director and ranch activity coordinator, and he knew he fit the bill perfectly.
As the crowd milled around, Travis pulled Veronica and Hank aside and told them the exciting news and said he’d decided to turn down the job offer in California if it came through.
“The money isn’t as good, but I’d be here in Divine and I’d no longer be living out of a suitcase. That would make the pay cut more than worth it. Plus I’d be making a bigger difference in some kid’s lives.”
Veronica threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Well, it’s not a done deal yet, Nika. But I decided I have to stay in Divine. There’s just no other way for me to be happy unless I’m near you.”
Hank nodded at him, as though he’d known that was the conclusion Travis would come around to all along. “Good going, Fishcop.”
“What about your bid for reelection, Hank?” Veronica asked.
Hank smiled down at Veronica and stroked her cheek before wrapping his arms around her, lifting her off her feet, and kissing her right out there in the street. “I’m going to leave that to the voters decide. I won’t refuse to be reelected but I’m content to watch the young guys put all the miles and hours into an election campaign. We’ll just see how it goes.”
“That sounds great.”
A shrill voice shattered the steady rumble of conversations around them. “Sheriff Hank Stinson! You should be ashamed!” The gathering parted as Tabitha Lester came marching forward with her “Keep Divine Pure—Say No to Polyamory!” picket signs and a pitifully small band of followers cowering behind her. Many members of the crowd scowled at they read the signs and some rolled their eyes, gathering their families to wander off to the food booths.
“Miss Lester,” Hank said firmly. “Go home.”
“No! You should be ashamed, joining in with the rest of these perverts! And with a pornographer, no less!” she screeched as she pointed at Veronica, who gasped. Hank knew a moment of searing affirmation when the woman he loved looked to him, asking for defense with her eyes, rather than accepting the abuse. Tabitha continued her diatribe. “I will be revealing your perfidy to the world in my next blog post! You can kiss your reelection goodbye, sinner!”