Losing Faith (12 page)

“Wow,” Seth said, laughing. “The New Kids. You
are
old school.”

“They were quite good,” she said, nodding.

“Yeah, and I hear they might be getting back together, too.”

“Are you serious?”

“No, but the look on your face was priceless.”

Savannah let out a laugh. “Mom, you’re funny sometimes.”

“Thanks, but leave my New Kids alone.” She turned to Frank. “What about you, Frank?”

“Oh, I’m really old school, I’m afraid. I’ll take the Rat Pack over the New Kids any day.”

“Who’s the Rat Pack?” Savannah asked, looking clueless once again.

Seth and Trista burst into laughter.

Frank grabbed a menu. The others followed suit, and they sat in comfortable silence as they scanned the list. Their waitress showed up with their drinks a few moments later and took their order. She was about to turn but then did a double take. She looked closely at Seth, and her face lit up. “Oh my gosh. You’re—”

“Seth Storm,” Savannah interrupted proudly.

“My momma said that we had some newcomers tonight, but she never said anything about one of them being Seth Storm. I can’t believe it.”

Seth lowered his head, trying to avoid any additional attention. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Storm.” Then she turned on her heels and flipped her ponytail as she made her way back into the kitchen.

“Pleasure’s all hers,” Trista repeated. She bet he got that a lot. Tall, dark hair, as thin as a California surfer. She bet he had his pick of the girls. The tiniest sting of jealousy caught hold of her, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. What was it with this guy? He wasn’t even all that nice.

Seth looked away. “Too bad Lightning Strikes isn’t playin’ tonight. I would have liked to hear them in person.”

“With any luck, we’ll be out of here sometime in the morning,” Frank said, taking a drink. “Assuming the storm doesn’t trap us here.”

“The man on the radio said that the storm had one last blast left tonight, and then it was supposed to quiet down by morning.”

“We’ve got to get out of here in the morning.” Seth took a drink. “Another night just isn’t an option.

Trista thought about what Seth had said just before they had crashed. He said he was heading back to Fort Wayne because of a girl. She must be some kind of girl, she thought.

“Mom, I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” Trista turned to Savannah, remembering the last time she had said she needed to go to the bathroom. She had nearly frozen to death, and Trista had lost years of her life worrying about where she had gone. She gave Savannah a look.

“What? I’m serious. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise. Besides, you said that I can stay in Seth’s room, remember?”

Seth nearly spit out his Coke. “What?”

Trista covered her mouth to hide her smile. “She’s joking.”

“Funny,” Seth said, wiping Coke from his lips.

“I’ll go with her,” Frank said, getting up,

“Great. I can’t even use the bathroom without a bodyguard.” Savannah shot out of her chair.

“Hey!” Trista snapped. Savannah turned around, and Trista’s tone softened. “We talked about this in the car, honey. We’re good. Let’s not go back now.” She held out her hand.

Savannah stared at it for a minute and then traced a heart in her palm. “I love you, too.”

Trista watched as her daughter and Frank headed to the back before disappearing down a hallway.

“She’s something.”

Trista turned to Seth. “You have no idea. Being a teenager should be outlawed.”

“She’s not that bad.”

She shot him an are-you-kidding-me look. “Were you not there at the gas station? I almost lost her.”

Seth nodded. “You’re never going to lose her. She loves you very much. I can tell. And she’s a smart girl. She’s just going through something rough.”

“You have no idea,” Trista agreed. She lifted her glass and took a drink.

“Does it have to do with Tuck?”

His question shouldn’t have surprised her. After the scene at the gas station, either he or Frank was bound to ask who this Tuck guy was that she’d so clearly been afraid of. “Not exactly,” she said, setting down her glass. “He’s my ex-fianc
é
.”

Seth’s eyes narrowed. “How ‘ex’ is he?”

“Since earlier today.”

Seth nodded. “How did he take it?”

“Actually,” she said, smiling. “He just went to sleep.”

His eyebrows went up, but he went on. “Why were you so worried about him taking Savannah? Is he a violent man?”

“He’s a piece of work. Violent? Yes. But he never laid a hand on Savannah. He’d be dead if he had.”

Seth’s eyes grew wide. “Then why are so worried that he’d take her?”

“Listen, cowboy. I appreciate you guys helping us out and giving us a ride. But all this questioning isn’t necessary. I can handle myself.”

“Why does everyone keep calling me a cowboy?”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But if this Tuck is after you or your little girl, it does affect us. We’re the ones helping you, remember?”

She picked up on the obvious frustration in his voice. After the night they’d had, she couldn’t blame him. At this point, the only thing she wanted was a sandwich and a warm bath before crawling into bed for some much deserved sleep. “Tuck’s a guy I’ve been with for about two years. He’s just a guy with a temper. Oh, and he has his
requests.
”

“What requests?”

“It’s a long story. But if you’d prefer that we find our own way from here on out, that’s fine with me. I don’t want to put you out.” Seth sat back and studied Trista. She felt like a subject in a science experiment. “What?”

“I see where she gets it.”

“Who?”

“Your daughter. She’s full of fire. And so is her mother.”

“We’re back. What did we miss?” Savannah took a seat in the chair next to Trista.

Trista took in a deep breath, grateful for the interruption. “Oh, nothing. We were just talking about stuff.”

Frank looked at Seth and then at Trista. She could tell that he had picked up on the tension.

“Food should be here any minute now,” he said.

Savannah rubbed her stomach. “I hope so. I’m starving.”

Seth didn’t say a word. He just sat across from Trista, occasionally rubbing the tattoo on the back of his left hand. “That’s so cool,” Savannah said, looking at it. “What does it mean?”

Seth looked down at the tattoo and stared at it without responding.

“Seth?”

“Yeah.”

“What does that tattoo mean?”

“Yeah, Seth,” Trista chimed in, wondering how he liked having his personal life interrogated. “I bet it has a special meaning. Someone tattoos flames on their hand, it must mean something.”

Seth turned to Frank. “I’m actually not that hungry. I’m going to bed.” He stood up, threw a few dollars down on the table, and then walked out.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that Trista felt a pang of guilt at the realization that she had just pushed away another person who had simply wanted to help her.

Chapter 15

Seth

Seth stared at the clock and watched as the minutes seemed to pass in slow motion. Sleep was the one thing he wanted the most, but it eluded him as he thought about how far he was from reaching his goal. He sat up, dropping his feet onto the cool wooden floors. Then he stood up, threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing out the spikes he’d created after tossing and turning the past two hours.

Embers glowed in the lobby fireplace, a reminder of the toasty fire that had been burning brightly when they had first arrived. Seth made his way past the front counter, feeling thankful that Deana wasn’t there. He didn’t think he could face another person tonight. Conversation was the last thing he wanted right now. He walked into the restaurant and headed toward the bar. The place had pretty much cleared out. Just a few patrons lingered in the large room, but the bar area was empty. Good, he thought as he bellied up to the bar and waited for the bartender to take notice. An older man with a flannel shirt and dark hair finished drying a glass before turning to Seth. “What can I do for you?”

Seth knew he had no business there, but a part of him felt more at home sitting at that bar than he did in his room upstairs. His fingers tapped on the bar as he scanned the rows of bottles, looking for his old friend. “Do you have Knob Creek?”

“On the rocks?”

“That’ll work.”

The bartender set the bourbon in front of Seth. The ice cubes danced around in the glass, and Seth couldn’t help but lick his lips. “One of those days?” the bartender asked him with a knowing grin.

“You have no idea, buddy.” Seth pulled out his wallet.

The bartender held up a hand. “No. This one’s on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You’re my first customer in the last hour, and I’ll be shutting it down in a few minutes.”

Seth spun the glass in his fingertips, imagining the burn as the poison made its way down his throat. “You might be one of the last decent men on earth.”

“I doubt my wife would agree with you. But thank you.”

Seth looked up at the dark-haired man. “You wouldn’t happen to be Harvey, would you?”

Lines of wisdom spread from the corners of his eyes as he smiled. Something about them told Seth that he’d done some serious living. “That’s right.”

“You’re a lucky man, Harvey. Deana’s one of the great ones. I only talked to her for a few minutes earlier, but I can tell. How long have you guys been married?

Harvey placed both hands on the bar, and his eyes squinted as he scrolled through his memory bank. “It’s been thirty-two years now.”

Seth let out a whistle. “Wow, thirty-two years.” He held up his glass in cheers. “Now there’s a marriage.” He set the glass back on the bar without taking his eyes off it. “My name’s—”

“Seth,” the man interrupted.

“You recognized me?”

“Nope. But Deana mentioned you. And my daughter told me all about you, of course.”

“Daughter?”

He gestured toward the restaurant. “Waitress. Dark hair. Ponytail.”

“Ah,” Seth said, nodding. “I remember her. Sweet girl.”

“She’s an art student in Nashville. Comes home during the summer and holidays to work. She recognized you. Said you were one of those country singer guys. It’s not every day a celebrity comes into our little place.”

Wanting to talk about anything but his musical life, Seth changed the subject. “Well, Harvey, I have to tell you that this place is incredible. I see why people come here to get married.”

“Thank you,” he said, wiping the bar with his towel. “So, what brings you to little ol’ Cupid?”

“Now that’s a long story.”

“I bet it is,” he said. He paused and looked into Seth’s eyes, studying him. “Sometimes chasing your dreams costs you more than you’re willing to pay.”

“What was that?”

Harvey leaned in closer, setting his elbows on the bar. “You look like a man who’s been through the ringer.”

“Why do I get the feelin’ that you’re not a typical bartender?”

“This isn’t what I’ve always done. I went to college once. Majored in psychology.”

“Really? Like a shrink?”

“Something like that,” he said. “That part of my life didn’t really work out for me, but it’s given me a sort of ability to…
read
people, if you will.”

“Well, you’re definitely good at it. You should’ve stuck with the shrink business.”

“I never did become a shrink,” he said, smiling at Seth. “I ended up getting hired by one of those large companies to work in their marketing department. I spent years trying to figure out how to convince people to buy products.”

“I have a feeling you did well with that.”

He pulled out another glass from the sink and wiped it dry. “I did, and I didn’t. The trick to life is being able to admit you know nothing when you think you’ve figured it all out.”

His words resonated with Seth as he stared into the glass. “So how did you end up here?”

Harvey smiled at Seth. “That was about the time when I realized how little I did know about life. Deana had convinced me to take a long weekend. We were heading north when we stumbled upon this place. It was for sale.” He looked around as if seeing it for the first time. “And I just knew. I knew this was the place for us.”

Seth turned his head to the side. “And Deana?”

“Well, let’s just say that this place did more than just save me. It saved a marriage that would have been long dead.”

Seth stared down at his glass and gave it a slow turn. His tongue felt dry. He knew the cool brown liquid was the key to quenching his thirst.

“How long has it been?”

He turned to find Trista standing behind him. “What are you...”

“Couldn’t sleep.” She pointed at the stool next to his. “Do you mind?”

He turned back around. “Help yourself.”

“You never answered my question.” She looked down at his glass. “How long has it been since you’ve had your last drink?”

“Nine months. How did you know?”

“My father was an alcoholic. It was before I was even born. But I saw the way he sometimes looked at alcohol. Like it was both the answer and a curse wrapped up in one.”

“I wasn’t going to drink it.”

She shot him a disbelieving look.

“Seriously. I know it sounds ridiculous, but getting close to it reminds me of…”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” she said.

“You’re right, I don’t. So why are you here? Don’t you have a teenager to keep an eye on?”

“Savannah and I had a long talk after dinner, and we’re good. Besides, she’s asleep and anyone who has had teenagers knows that there’s no waking them when they’re dead asleep.”

“Can I get you something?” Harvey asked Trista.

“I’ll take a Diet Coke.”

“Coming up.”

She turned back to Seth. “I owe you an apology.”

Seth cocked his head back. “Really?”

“Don’t look so surprised. I can admit when I’m wrong. And you were only trying to help. I shouldn’t have been such a…”

“Pest?” Seth finished her sentence.

“I was going to say jerk, but I guess that fits, too.” Harvey handed her a glass of Diet Coke, its carbonated bubbles racing to the top. “Thank you.”