Losing Faith (18 page)

Seth leaned forward. “Apparently, you’re exactly the type who carries that kind of cash with her.”

“My situation is different. I didn’t exactly have much time to wire that kind of money.”

“I can’t believe Tuck’s the same guy who towed my car.”

“It’s a small world,” she agreed.

Seth grabbed his straw and stirred the ice cubes in his drink. “What you did? Leaving Tuck the way you did? That took some real guts. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I don’t know about that. I mean, none of this would have happened if I hadn’t moved in with him or gone into business with him.”

“We all have our hindsight that reveals a clearer path to a better future.”

“Wow, that’s deep. Did you get that from a fortune cookie?”

Seth smiled and leaned back. “No. I wrote it in one of my songs.”

Trista placed her hands on the table. “I really should buy your CD. Something tells me it’s good.”

Seth didn’t respond. Instead, he watched as the Deebles made their way from table to table.

Trista slid over into the chair next to his. “Can you tell me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Why music? I mean, what made you want to be a musician or a singer?”

Seth stared at her.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

Seth shook his head. “People usually ask me why I gave it up. Not why I pursued it to begin with.”

“I don’t know any famous musicians. And I’ve always wondered why anyone chooses that as a profession. Was it a voice inside your head? Or did you naturally know how to play a guitar when you held one for the first time?”

Seth laughed. “It took me six months of plucking strings nearly every day before I could finally play my first song. I definitely didn’t have a knack for it.”

“Then why did you want to be a musician?”

Seth leaned forward. “It’s different for everyone. But for me…it’s because I feel music.”

“You feel it?”

Seth nodded.

“And that’s it?”

He smiled. “You seem disappointed.”

“No, I guess I still don’t understand.”

“It’s like this,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Trust me.” The calm and soothing tone of his voice sent a shiver down her back. His soft eyes and warm smile sent butterflies to her stomach.

Trista closed her eyes. “Now what?”

Without saying a word, he took her hand and opened her fingers. His warmth ran through her arm and into her body, causing her pulse to race. Then she felt something cold in the palm of her hand. He closed her fingers around it. “Do you feel that?”

“Uh huh,” was the only thing she could say.

“You can’t see it, but you can feel that it’s cold, right?”

“Yep,” she said, wishing for the warmth of his touch again.

“This is what music is to me. I can’t see it. But it’s everywhere. It’s in the traffic when I’m downtown. It’s in the humming of a furnace as it fights to keep your house warm. It’s in the jingle of a dog’s collar as he prances into a room with his favorite toy. And it’s in the laughter of a child as she plays with her toys. It’s everywhere. And although I can’t see it, I feel it throughout my body. And all I want to do is make more music.”

She opened her eyes slowly and let out a breath, not realizing she had been holding it. “I think I understand.” She stared at his lips and imagined kissing them. Wondering if he’d feel music then.

Seth sat back, breaking the tension. He took a drink. “At least, I used to want to make music. Now all I want to do is forget it.”

Trista remembered what he had said about how most people just asked him why he wanted to give it up. Her curiosity was piqued, but she fought the urge to ask. Instead, she pointed to his tattoo, unable to give up on its meaning. “How about that tattoo? You said last night at the bar that it had originally been a musical note, but you had it redone. Why?”

Seth smiled and leaned forward. “I think it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Really? And what could you possibly not know about me after the past few days we’ve had?”

“What do you and Savannah keep tracing in the palms of your hands?”

Trista looked away. She watched as the Deebles cut into their wedding cake. Drake picked up a large piece of cake and held it teasingly in front of Wendy, who waited cautiously for him to feed her, clearly not sure if he’d smash it in her face or not. But he didn’t. He wiped a piece of frosting off with his finger and placed it into her mouth before kissing her long and tenderly.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable.”

She turned back to Seth. “No, it’s fine. It started when Savannah was six years old. She had pneumonia, and I ended up taking her to the hospital.”

“That sounds scary.”

“It was. And it was about two months after Anthony, Savannah’s father, had passed away. Because he was in the military, I had had a lot of experience taking care of Savannah by myself when she was sick, but it was different this time. Like I was completely alone. You know?”

Seth nodded but didn’t say a word.

“She had a severe sore throat and ended up losing her voice. She lay so still in that hospital bed. She looked so thin and pale. All I wanted to do was hold her, but she was so frail. You’d think being a nurse would prepare you for something like that. But nothing can prepare you for seeing your own child feeling that way. After the second day of sitting by her side, I started to…I don’t know. I guess the stress and exhaustion got to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I leaned into her bed and whispered her name. She turned to me with tears streaming down her cheeks. And I could see the pain in those tears. I told her I loved her, about the only thing I could do at that moment. But she didn’t say anything back. Couldn’t say anything because of her throat. Tears fell from my cheeks, and I think she must have felt bad for me. I mean, can you imagine being that sick, going through something that terrible, and then having to watch your mom fall apart in front of you?” Trista paused, and Seth handed her a napkin. “Thank you. I’m sorry about this.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“You’re fine. You should be able to ask someone a question and not have them start crying like some crazy emotional person.” She stared at the tear-soaked napkin. “Savannah was always a brave girl. Fearless. When she saw me crying, she reached for my hand and traced a heart with her finger, the only way she could tell me that she loved me right then.”

Seth was silent for a few seconds. He placed a hand on Trista’s. “You’re a wonderful mom. I can see you questioning that, like a battle you wage with yourself, but you shouldn’t doubt it. She’s a good kid, and she loves you very much. You guys look after each other, and she wouldn’t know how to do that if you hadn’t shown her.”

“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

Seth smiled and tapped on his tattoo. “I got this the day after my wife passed away.”

“Savannah told me she died in a plane crash. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay.” He continued staring at the outline of flames. “This is a reminder of what music and fame cost me.”

Trista didn’t know what he meant. How could music and fame be the reason why his wife had died?

He continued. “Her death was my fault. She’d be here now if it weren’t for me.”

Trista sat back, unable to take in what he’d just revealed to her.

“Did I miss anything?” Frank interrupted, returning to the table.

Chapter 23

Seth

When Frank took his seat at the table, Seth couldn’t have been more relieved. He didn’t know what had gotten into him just then. One minute he had been minding his own business, hoping like hell that no one would recognize him. Then the Deebles had gotten married, and before he knew it, he was left alone with Trista, and they had shared a moment that had turned
real
personal. The last thing he needed right now was a complication like Trista. Faith was all that mattered, and the only thing standing in his way of getting back to Fort Wayne was one more night at Cupid’s Corner.

“What did I miss?” Frank repeated.

“Nothing,” Trista responded. “The Deebles cut the cake.”

Seth looked over at the dance floor and the empty stage. “I wonder where the band is.”

“Funny you should ask,” Deana replied, standing behind Seth. She came around and took a seat in Savannah’s chair. “Lightning Strikes is supposed to play tonight. But we’re not sure if they’re going to make it in time on account of how messy the roads still are.”

“Well, I hope they still make it. I’m in the mood for a bit of music,” Trista said.

“It’s country,” Seth said. “You don’t listen to country.”

“That may have been how it was, but it doesn’t mean it’s how it has to always be.” She pushed a few strands of hair from her shoulder. “I think I’d probably like these guys.”

“You definitely would,” Deana agreed with her. “It’s just a shame that the Deebles won’t have anything to dance to.”

Frank turned to Seth. “Why don’t you sing for them?”

Seth’s eyes grew wide. “Oh no, I don’t think so. I haven’t so much as touched a guitar in at least six months. It’s just not who I am anymore.”

“Sure you have. I’ve been watching you tote that thing around ever since Nashville.”

“That’s not what I meant, Frank. I haven’t played in a long time.” Seth turned to Deana. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think the Deebles want me playing for their wedding. Not on such a…” He paused and looked around the restaurant. “Special day.”

“Frank, that is one splendid idea you have there.” Deana said, dismissing Seth’s refusal. “Would you mind just playin’ one of your songs, Seth? I’m sure they’d love it.”

Seth felt the weight of their gazes pleading with him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Deana. But I just can’t.”

The light left Deana’s eyes, but her smile remained. “Can’t blame me for askin’.” She placed a hand on Seth’s and stood up. “I respect your decision.” Deana walked toward the Deebles, and they gave her a hug. Seth couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a couple smile as much as this one did.

He turned around to find Trista frowning at him. “What? It’s not like I came here to sing. I didn’t ask for this.”

“I didn’t say a word,” Trista said, defending herself. “But…”

“But what?”

“Nothing.” She waited.

“If you have something to say, just say it.”

“I don’t know why you are so intent on wasting your gift.”

“Maybe I don’t consider it much of a gift.”

Trista crossed her arms and sat back in her chair.

Seth turned to Frank, who just shrugged. “Don’t look at me, pal.”

“I think I’ve had enough fun for one day.” Seth stood up, firmly pushed in his chair, and walked away.

Chapter 24

Trista

“Wait!” Trista called as Seth walked away from their table.

Seth ignored her and headed for the staircase. Trista ran after him.

“Where are you going?” Trista stopped behind him on the stairs. The jog from the restaurant through the lobby and down the hall had sent her heart racing.

Seth didn’t look at her, but he stopped climbing.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Why are you so…so…angry? Ever since we ran into you at the airport, you’ve been acting as if every day was the worst day of your life.”

Seth turned to Trista. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know. But that’s because you walk around with that large chip on your shoulder and refuse to talk about anything. You don’t let anyone get to know you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I should be more like you and tell everyone about my business.”

“I didn’t do that. I—”

“Like hell you didn’t. Ever since we offered you a ride, your life has been spilling out all over. If it’s not your daughter running away, then it’s your psycho ex-fianc
é
trying to kill me. You’ve done nothing but stop me from getting where I need to go.”

Trista looked down. She couldn’t argue with him. Everything he had said was true whether she wanted it to be or not. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You’re right. About everything.”

He looked uncertain. “I am?”

She nodded and then looked up at him. “You’re right, Seth. My life is a mess. It has been ever since my husband died. I’ve tried to make things better, but no matter what, I find a way to make them worse. And now I’ve kept you from your daughter. I’m sorry.”

Neither of them said anything while they waited for a young couple to walk by. Trista turned away from Seth to head back to the restaurant.

“Wait!” This time he called after her.

She stopped but didn’t turn around.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I just…when it comes to music, I’m not…Let’s just say that I’m not the guy I used to be. I’m not the guy everybody expects me to be.”

“Why?”

Seth looked down. “You wanna know about the tattoo?”

Trista nodded. “If you want to tell me.”

He put his hands into his pockets and took a few steps toward her. His eyes had softened, and she could see a vulnerable, almost human side to him. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket and stared at the flames. “I told you I got this after my wife died?”

She nodded.

“Last year I took a gig. It was supposed to be a
career-making opportunity
. At least that’s what my manager told me. When I told Lexi about it, she reminded me that I had promised to spend New Year’s Eve with her and Faith. I told her how important it was and what it meant for us.
Us.
Right.
More like for me. Anyway, we worked it out, and she acted okay with it. I could tell that it really bugged her though. And how could it not? I had just spent four months on tour and two more practically living in a studio working on my music.”

“Sounds like a demanding job.”

Seth nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “I flew into Las Vegas the day before the gig to set up. Lexi went with me to the airport. She said goodbye and gave me a hug, but I could tell somethin’ was wrong. I could tell that she wasn’t happy.” He turned to Trista. “I knew then that I shouldn’t get on that plane. I should’ve put my bag down, walked back to her, and wrapped my arms around her, never letting her go.” He turned back to his tattoo. “But I didn’t. I chased my dream instead.”