Restless Heart (8 page)

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Authors: Wynonna Judd

BOOK: Restless Heart
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“Anyway . . .” Destiny went on with her story. “I didn’t hear Nessie coming up over my carrying on, and when she touched my shoulder she about scared me out of my skin. She asked me what was wrong and I said that I had stubbed my toe.”
“Brilliant.”
“I know, right? But she knew I’d just moved in and pretty much had the whole situation figured out.” Destiny chuckled. “She introduced herself and, of course, I gave her one of my daddy’s very firm handshakes, and wouldn’t you know she had a hand buzzer curled up in her palm?”
“Oh, that’s perfect.”
“It sure did make me go from crying to laughing in a hurry. Right then and there I knew we were going to become fast friends. I told her that I wanted to be her when I grew up and she said that was too bad because she was never gonna grow up. And, of course, I said,
exactly
.”
“So that’s where you got that big box of gag gifts?”
“Yep. Every time Nessie knew I had a bad day or yet another disappointment she would bring me some little gadget to raise my spirits.”
“That’s a big box,” Seth told her quietly.
“I guess there is humor in that observation somewhere,” Destiny replied with a small smile.
For a long moment, they were both lost in their own thoughts.
Then she sighed a very un-Destiny-like sigh, and he looked up in dismay to see a dejected expression on her face.
“My parents taught me to aim high and work hard, but lately I’m beginning to think this is beyond my reach.”
Sympathy squeezed like a rubber band around Seth’s heart. “I’m guessing that no one knows about your struggles other than your friend Nessie.”
She nodded glumly. “How could I possibly tell my family? But for the record, I never really lie. I just put a positive spin on everything.”
“Destiny . . . you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Oh really? Seth, look, you’re back home teaching. Cooper is headed for law school, for goodness’ sake. Annie’s a nurse. And Grace has a marketing degree!” She sliced her hand through the air. “And here I sit over four years later and I’m no closer to my goal than the day I arrived. Now, just how do I tell my parents
that?
”
“This isn’t about your parents, Destiny. This is about what you want to do with your life.”
She closed her eyes tightly and pressed her lips together like a dam holding back a surge of emotion.
And it stopped him in his tracks.
Not the emotion part, but rather her
mouth
. Her lips, soft and shiny . . .
There was nothing he’d rather do than draw her into his arms and kiss her soundly.
But doggone it, he shouldn’t. Wouldn’t.
It took every bit of strength he possessed not to haul her into his arms.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” she admitted softly, her eyes still closed.
“Do what?”
“Live here in Nashville chasing this . . . this pipe dream. Everyone else is moving forward and I’m treading water.”
Seth longed to tell her to come on home with him, where she wouldn’t have to endure one more day of heartache or disappointment.
The scales, he realized, were tipped in his favor. All he had to do was say the word.
Destiny sighed and opened her eyes. “I should have listened to you four years ago and had Plan B waiting in the wings.”
Frowning, Seth mulled that over for a minute, but then shook his head firmly. “No.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sing something for me.”
“What?”
He motioned at her guitar. “Go ahead. Sing.”
“Sing what?” She was already walking toward it, slowly.
“Whatever you want.”
“Elvis? Patsy Cline?”
“Got anything of your own?”
She picked up the guitar and sat on a stool. “Maybe. I wrote one a couple of weeks ago. It might be a little over-the-top. I was kind of emotional on that particular day.”
“The true nature of great country songs . . . and beautiful Southern women. As far as I’m concerned there’s nothin’ wrong with either one of those things.” Seth grinned as Destiny’s cheeks colored at the compliment.
She quickly flipped her guitar up from her lap and started strumming.
“It’s called ‘Restless Heart,’” she announced softly and then began to sing. Seth could tell from the slight tremor in her voice that she was nervous, but she closed her eyes and let the music take over.
The song was about searching and yearning, loving and learning, its lyrics full of sentiment and edged with raw emotion.
“I knew it right from the start . . . that he was the only one who could ever mend”—she drew out the word high pitched and pure and then finished low and soft—“the ragged edges of my restless heart . . .”
After she trailed off and her fingers stilled, Destiny opened her eyes and looked over at Seth expectantly. He opened his mouth to tell her that he was moved by her performance, but words failed him.
He knew what he wanted to say—but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say it, because it would send her even farther away from him.
“I know . . . too much drama, right?” She looked disappointed, nibbling on her bottom lip as she carefully placed her guitar on the stand. “I need to back it down, don’t I?”
Still, he couldn’t speak.
“Look, Seth, you don’t have to be nice. Say what you need to say. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“Destiny . . .” He walked over to her and cleared his throat. “I loved the song.
Really
loved it.”
She blinked rapidly. “Oh wow, I think I might cry.” She sniffed hard and determinedly fanned her hands in front of her cheeks.
“Seriously—you’re immensely talented. You shouldn’t give up.”
She looked at him with luminous eyes and Seth thought to himself that he had never seen a sight so beautiful.
Heaven help him, even though he knew he shouldn’t, Seth could not stop from leaning in and kissing her. The moment his lips met hers he was lost in the delicious sensation. Warm, soft, tender, sweet, the kiss went beyond pleasant and touched him on a much deeper level that made him yearn for more . . .
And yet he forced himself to pull back.
“What was that all about, Seth?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Good Lord, what had he done? Destiny needed encouragement and direction, not confusion.
Seth’s heart thumped hard. “I . . . uh . . . guess I got caught up in the emotion of the song.”
“Oh.” Her face fell and she closed her eyes. “I suppose I should be flattered that my music got to you in such a way.”
You got to me.
He opened his mouth to admit it—only to be curtailed by the ringing telephone.
 
 
 
S
tanding out on the back deck that John had built at her request, Sara leaned into the railing and looked out into the whispering darkness.
She had enjoyed many a cold glass of tea out here on many a warm summer evening, cupped her hands around a coffee mug when the seasons changed.
The cool, gentle breeze usually had a calming effect on Sara. But tonight, as she stood rubbing the goose bumps on her arms, all she felt was inner turmoil, thanks to four issues of
Cosmopolitan
.
Sara inhaled deeply in an effort to let the scent of earth and pine clear her head. The trees were tall, swaying shadows and the leaves rustled softly. She could detect the clean smell of rain hanging heavy in the humid air, and the promise that fall weather wasn’t far off.
But she wasn’t looking ahead; she was looking back at the countless summer evenings she’d enjoyed on this deck since they’d moved to Wilmot over eight years ago.
Dinner was always a family effort: John would flip burgers as the girls shucked corn and Sara sliced fresh watermelon. After dinner they’d play board games or cards, or sing . . .
“Mom?”
Sara jumped and turned to see Grace standing behind her.
“What on earth are you doing? Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I guess I was lost in my thoughts.”
She saw Grace looking at the glass in her hand. “Tea at this time of night? You know the caffeine’s going to keep you up.”
“It’s not likely to make a difference.”
“You mean you haven’t been sleeping?”
“Not lately.” The bed in the guest room wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the king-sized Temper-Pedic in the master bedroom—and that was where she’d been spending her nights lately.
“Where’s Daddy?”
“Gone,” Sara answered flatly.
“Gone where?”
“He headed up to the camp to fish. Said he might be gone for a few days.”
“Would have been nice of him to have said good-bye to me,” Grace muttered.
“He left in a bit of a huff.” Sara pressed her lips together, holding back tears.
Grace pointed to the Adirondack chairs. “Here, let’s sit.”
Sara ran her hands lovingly over the wide arms of the white chair as she sank into it. “You know, your father and I found these at a yard sale right after we moved into this house. Boy, were they ever in bad shape, but we sanded them down and made them look like new.”
Grace nodded. “I remember that.”
I remember everything lately,
Sara thought.
Grace lit a fat citronella candle perched on the small table between the chairs. The tangy scent blended with the humid night air, and the flickering flame cast a soft, soothing glow against background music of chirping crickets and croaking bullfrogs.
Grace sat beside her. “Mom . . . what’s going on with you and Daddy?”
She opened her mouth to lie, not wanting to burden her daughter with the truth, but then realized it was no use. Grace lived under this roof with them, and she was no fool.
“I guess we’re just drifting apart.” Sara leaned back and looked up at the inky blue sky glittering with stars. “Now that you girls are grown I feel as if I’m at loose ends . . . restless and ready to go out and . . . I don’t know. Do something.”
“Like what?”
“
Anything
. As long as it’s new and different. Am I making any sense?”
Grace reached over and took her hand. “You’re making perfect sense. Mom, you’ve devoted your whole life to your family, and—”
“And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“But maybe now it’s time for you to rediscover . . .
you
.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“And Daddy doesn’t get that?”
“No. All the man wants to do is fish and jog and tinker with that old car in the garage. He thinks I’m having a midlife crisis.” She shrugged. “Call it what you want, but for the first time I understand Destiny’s need to chase her dream.”
“So do I, lately. Even after all these years, a part of me was still angry with her for up and moving to Nashville out of the blue, but lately . . .” Grace shrugged. “Maybe I finally get it. Especially now that I’m out of school and haven’t got a clue what to do next.”
“You have a college degree. In a lot of ways, you’re farther along than I was at your age,” Sara assured her daughter, who had always been the bubbly blond cheerleader and felt as if no one took her seriously.
“Are you kidding? You were married with two children by the time you were my age, Mom.”
Yes, and she’d thought she had everything she could ever possibly want, or need.
“You know, Mom . . .” Grace broke into her thoughts, dragging her back to the present. “I was thinking maybe I could go visit Destiny for a while, and give you and Daddy a chance to have the house to yourselves.”
“Oh, Grace, that’s not necessary. We don’t need you to do that.”
“Maybe I need to do it, though. And maybe Destiny needs me, too. When I talked to her today, she sounded kind of . . . lonely.”
“You talked to her today?” Sara asked with the pang she experienced every time she thought about Destiny. If only she could go back and do things differently. She should have stood up for her own feelings when her daughter decided to go to Nashville and not blindly followed her husband’s wishes. Old habits, however, were hard to break.
Besides, she had known John was having a difficult time dealing with Destiny’s sudden need for independence . . .
Just as he was having a hard time with Sara’s identical need right now.
“I called because I wanted to give Destiny a heads-up that Seth might be popping in to see her,” Grace said, “but her boss kept yelling at her to get off the phone and get on her apron.” She paused for a pointed silence, and the last word quickly sank in.
“What? You mean her
costume
, Grace, not—”
“I don’t think so.”
“But . . . she said she was working at Back in the Saddle, that famous place where all the country music stars got discovered.”
“She
is
working there, and not
all
of them got discovered there, Mom—just Tammy Turner.”
“
Just
Tammy Turner?”
“Okay, so she’s a huge star. But I’m willing to bet that she was singing when she got discovered—not waiting tables.”
“Destiny is waiting tables? But . . . she always painted such a rosy picture. How could we have been so in the dark?”
“Because Destiny kept us there. She’s got Daddy’s independent, stubborn streak. The two of them need to get over each other.”
Sara nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all—and remembering why Grace had brought it up in the first place.
“What’s Seth doing in Nashville?” she asked her daughter.
“He had to go to Brentwood for a baseball tournament, and he said he might look up Destiny while he was there.”
Sara wagged her finger at Grace. “I always knew there might be something going on between those two.”
“I don’t think there is . . . yet. But maybe there will be.”
“I hope you’re right,” Sara told her. “I’d rather see her with him than . . .”

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