Restless Heart (18 page)

“We’ll do it when we get back. Grab your guitar and let’s go.”

They didn’t get into town until the wee hours, and Grace dropped Destiny—with Mike in tow—here at Seth’s place. He was waiting up, of course. It had been so long since they’d seen each other that the first place they headed was the bedroom—and the last thing they wanted to do was sleep.

“It’s so unbelievably good to have you here,” Seth commented, and she looked up to see him watching her.

“Yeah, well, it’s so unbelievably good to be here—and to be doing something like this.” She waved the flour-dusted rolling pin.

“Been a while since you baked a pie, huh?”

“Or anything like it.
Sometimes
I miss the simplicity of just being me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but it keeps hitting me that my life has changed pretty drastically in the blink of an eye.”

“You haven’t even told me how the music video shoot went.”

“Well, we’re not finished. As a matter of fact, we’re going to be shooting some footage tomorrow night.”

Miranda had arranged with WKCX for her to perform a special hometown concert tomorrow night—right back where it all began. She and the record company’s PR team thought it would be a great opportunity to generate some press in advance of the single’s debut on
Cowgirl Up
after the holidays.

“I’m sure it’ll be great to have some familiar faces in the crowd,” Seth told her.

“One in particular.” She pointed at him. “Others . . . I’m not so sure about.”

“Did your father say he’ll come?”

“He didn’t say he wouldn’t. He hasn’t said anything at all, in fact. I haven’t talked to him. But my mother told me she’s working on him, and of course, she’ll be there . . .”

“Annie and Cooper, too.”

“How do you know?”

“They both happen to be in town for Thanksgiving, and I may have mentioned it to them . . .”

“Okay, now I’m nervous.” She started to pace.

“Why? They love you. Everyone around here does.”

“That’s why.” She shook her head. “It’s easier to perform in front of strangers. There’s a lot less to lose. Oh well. I guess if I want to make it in this business, I’d better get used to performing in front of people I know and love. And anyway . . . I always do better when I know you’re there with me.” She leaned close and captured his mouth with hers, then placed her forehead against his. “I miss you so much. Every second of every day we’re not together.”

“I feel the same way.”

“How are we going to keep doing this, Seth?”

“Trust.”

“You mean in fate because you—” she began, but he put a fingertip to her mouth.

“Trust in us. It’s the only way long-distance relationships can survive.”

“Well, then, that’s not a problem, is it?”

“Not at all.” Seth slid his fingertip across her bottom lip and then kissed her gently.

He had such a simple, direct way of looking at things. She dearly hoped it would be their lifeline, and not their undoing.

With a sigh Destiny rested her head on his shoulder, savoring the solid muscle beneath her cheek and the steady beat of his heart under the palm of her hand. She knew she had to tuck these memories away and take them with her when she left . . .

And that they couldn’t sit around holding each other all day, because they had a Thanksgiving dinner to get to.

At the thought of her father, she suddenly realized something and gasped.

“What?” Seth asked.

Destiny raised her head and looked at him. “I’m sitting here moaning about how much I miss you when we’re apart, and it made me think about how tough it must have been on my father whenever he had a tour of duty. I’m heading back to Nashville to
sing
for goodness’ sake. I’m not going off to war. You’re always just a phone call, text message, or e-mail away.”

“And I can get in the car and drive to see you as often as possible, and we’ll be together for a whole week at Christmas . . .”

“Right.” Destiny had arranged to take the time off. “I need to stop whining and just deal, don’t I?”

Seth laughed. “There’s the Destiny Hart I know and love.”

Destiny laughed and hugged him hard. “I might be leaving you again in a few days, but my heart’s not going anywhere.” She smiled to herself, thinking that was a pretty darned good song title.

 

 

 

“T
hat was an incredible dinner, Mrs. Hart,” Seth announced, after taking the last bite of turkey.

“You outdid yourself, Mom.”

“You really did,” Grace chimed in with Destiny. “Don’t you think so, Dad?”

“It was good.”

Sara tried not to show how stung she was by the grudging praise. “Thanks,” she said, more to Seth and her daughters, “but it really was a group effort.”

John had been noticeably quiet throughout the meal, sitting in his usual place at the end of the table.

Sara knew what was wrong with him. He finally realized that Destiny’s impossible dreams were coming true. Not only had he been wrong to take such a stubborn stance against her going to Nashville to begin with, but now he was going to lose her all over again . . . just when she’d started coming back into their lives, thanks to Seth.

“So, Seth,” Sara said, “you haven’t told us how the house hunting is going.”

“It’s . . . going. Actually, maybe it’s gone, for the time being. I’ve pretty much seen everything that’s on the local market, and it slows down around the holidays. Maybe after that, some new inventory will come on.”

“Let’s hope so. And how are your parents doing in Florida?”

“They’re loving it. This is their first Thanksgiving away from Wilmot, and when I talked to them earlier, they said they weren’t the least bit homesick. They were having turkey on the beach.”

“That sounds like fun!” Sara turned to John. “Wouldn’t it be nice to do something different some year? Not that I don’t love having all of you kids around, but I’m not naive enough to think you’ll be here every year . . .”

John pushed back his chair abruptly.

“Where are you going, Dad?” Grace asked.

“Out to the garage for a little while to work on the car. Call me in for dessert.”

They all watched him go.

If Seth caught the sudden undercurrents he was polite enough not to let it show. Pushing back his own chair, he said, “How about I get the dishes while you three catch up?”

“Absolutely not. You’re a guest.”

“Trust me, it would be my pleasure. I’m not used to sitting around for hours at a time.”

“I’m not either,” Destiny said, “but right now, I’m too full to move.”

“Just relax, ladies. I’m on it.”

“You really don’t have to do that, Seth,” Sara told him.

“Seriously, I want to. I know my way around a kitchen.”

“He cooks, too,” Destiny informed them proudly. “And not just breakfast and barbecue stuff, either.”

Destiny didn’t say it, but Sara sure as heck thought it. She remembered many a backyard party when she slaved all day long making several salads, complicated casseroles, and delectable desserts, and all John did was flip a few burgers and burn a few hot dogs. Yet he would get all the credit.

At the time, it had been amusing.

For some reason, it wasn’t anymore.

“Oh, come on, Destiny,” Seth was protesting. “You make it sound like I should have my own show on the Food Network. Just because a guy can bake a potato and broil a steak doesn’t mean—”

“What about the lasagna you made for Chase for his birthday last week? You said the two of you finished off an entire tray of it in one sitting.”

“Would that be Chase Miller?” Sara asked, familiar with the tragic accident that had taken the life of his father last year. “How is that poor boy doing?”

“He’s had interest from quite a few college scouts,” Seth told her. “If he can just stay here in Wilmot for his senior year, he’ll be set. But his mother wants to drag him away.”

“I imagine she just misses her son and wants him close to her,” Sara said mildly.

“Then where was she for the past fifteen years?” Destiny shook her head, her eyes flashing in anger. “She has no right to step in now and take away Chase’s opportunity to make a dream come true.”

“Hey, calm down, Destiny,” Grace said. “Don’t take it so personally. You barely know these people.”

“No, but I know about dreams, and how hard it is to make them come true, and how much it hurts when . . .”

The words dropped off into silence, and Sara contemplated them, wondering if Destiny was drawing some kind of parallel between Chase’s unsupportive mother and the way she and John had handled their daughter’s unexpected exodus to Nashville.

But now wasn’t the time for making amends. Not with Seth here, and John . . . not.

“I really hope Chase realizes his dreams,” she told Seth simply. “You could have brought him for Thanksgiving dinner, you know. There’s always room for one more.”

“Thank you, but he flew out to be with his mother. Judge’s orders.”

“All the way to Alaska and back in just a few days?”

Seth nodded and started gathering wineglasses. “I just hope she lets him come back home when the holiday is over.”

“Something tells me she’s not thinking of Wilmot as his home, Seth,” Destiny said with a shake of her head.

There was another long moment of thoughtful silence before Seth resumed collecting the glasses.

“Don’t spend all kinds of time on the dishes, now,” Sara told him. “Just throw them all into the dishwasher.”

“Careful when you tell him to throw something, Mom.” Grace grinned. “He’s got a pretty strong pitching arm, remember?”

“Nah, those days are over. Now I’m just an old guy sitting on the bench.”

“That’s not true,” Destiny said. “You’re out there on the field with the kids at every practice.”

“How do
you
know?”

It should have been an innocent question, Sara thought, and yet there was an accusatory hint in his tone.

He resents her for not being here,
she realized.
Maybe he doesn’t even realize it.

But Destiny sure did. Sara didn’t miss the flicker of concern in her daughter’s eyes.

“I’ll throw the rest of it into the dishwasher, Mrs. Hart, but I’ll be sure to hand wash the crystal,” Seth said, carefully clustering the wineglasses by their stems and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Wow . . . Destiny, he’s a keeper,” Sara informed her daughter, who looked distinctly uncomfortable at the comment.

“We’re just dating, Mom. Not . . .”

“They’re not getting engaged anytime soon,” Grace supplied. “Maybe not ever.”

“Grace!”

“What? That’s what you told me.”

“I never said
never
.”

“So you
are
getting engaged at some point?”

“Shh!”

Seth had reappeared. He picked up a couple of plates, then looked around at them. “Y’all are bein’ awfully quiet.”

“We’re just enjoying one another’s company, thanks to you,” Sara told him. “I miss my girls, and this is my one day to spend with them.”

“Mom, we’ll be around till Saturday.”

“I know, but tomorrow you’ll be running around getting ready for the performance . . .”

“So come with us,” Grace told her. “Not to the rehearsal and sound check, but to Chez Mia.”

Chez Mia was Wilmot’s fanciest salon, and the girls were planning to spend much of the afternoon there.

“What would I do at Chez Mia?”

“Get a facial, a manicure, a pedicure . . .” Destiny started counting off on her fingers.

“Maybe even a new hairstyle,” Grace put in, and Sara’s hand defensively went up to her sprayed-stiff head. “What do you think, Seth? Isn’t it time Mom went for a new look?”

“I think this is girl talk,” he said tactfully, and walked back toward the kitchen with a stack of plates.

Looking after him, Sara mouthed, “Nice butt.”

“Mom!” Destiny said, looking as shocked as she did dismayed.

Grace, however, was grinning. “That was so
not
a prim-and-proper Sara Hart comment.”

“Maybe I’m not as prim and proper as you girls think,” Sara said with a shrug.

Grace turned to Destiny. “Maybe Daddy’s right about her having a midlife crisis.”

“I am not having a midlife crisis! I’m having a midlife . . . revival.”

“Good for you, Mom.” Destiny nodded in approval. “You’ve spent all these years worrying about everybody else. Maybe it’s time you just worried about yourself for a change.”

“And maybe you girls are right about Chez Mia.” Feeling restless, Sara pushed back her chair abruptly and marched over to the mirror above the buffet.

Looking at her reflection, she felt as though she were seeing it for the first time. “Mercy me, my hair looks like a helmet sitting on my head.” She looked at her daughters. “Why didn’t y’all tell me?”

Destiny and Grace exchanged a glance.

“I, um, just thought it was your signature look,” Grace ventured with a tentative smile. “You know, like Grace Kelly or Jackie Onassis.”

“Neither of those women went around with a hair helmet on their head.”

Suddenly she felt like a big old dinosaur. She had been getting her hair done the exact same way for the past twenty years without thinking twice about it.

John liked it this way. He might have a fit if she changed it . . .

Wait a minute. Why was she worrying about what
he
wanted?

For years she had lived in her husband’s shadow. She’d become everything he wanted—the quintessential military wife and mother. And although she loved John and the girls, he was retired now and her children were grown.

It was high time Sara reclaimed her free spirit.