Marry Me (14 page)

****

Unbelievably, the replacement groomsman worked out fine, and the ceremony went off without another hitch. The reception was now well underway. The guests had dined on their choice of chicken or salmon, and the band, which looked an awful lot like a group of high school kids, had kicked it into gear.

Julia surveyed the reception hall, observing the guests as they gyrated on the dance floor. Well, the younger ones were dancing anyway. The older folks were sitting along the sidelines with perplexed expressions on their faces.

As she continued her visual trek around the room, her gaze fell on a balding, middle-aged man. His tie was askew, and his hair stood up in wild disarray. If she wasn't mistaken, he was drunk. Though how he'd managed to become inebriated was beyond her as there was no alcohol being served. Instinctively, Julia started in his direction, but before she reached him, he lurched up from the table and started toward the dance floor.

Yeah, definitely three sheets to the wind. He wasn't so much walking as bobbing and weaving. She picked up her pace, hoping to reach him before anyone noticed. She managed to catch up to him as he bobbed two steps away from the parquet surface.

“Hi, I'm Julia.” She gently slid an arm through his.

“Walter,” he said, after a moment's confusion.

“Walter, how about we take a walk around the courtyard?” she asked, already guiding him toward an exit. Thank goodness he waddled along beside her without protest. They slipped through a pair of double doors.

“I'm drunk,” he announced, as they walked along the path.

“A bit.”

“Never drink. S'bad for you.”

“Where did you get the alcohol anyway?”

He reached into his suit pocket and removed a silver flask. He shook it. “S'gone,” he said. “Like my wife.”

“Where did she go?”

“Nashville. Our baby went off to college, and the next day she said our marriage was over. She wanted to live her life. Twenty-five years and
poof.
” He tried to snap his fingers only they weren't working, so it looked more like he was trying to swat a fly.

Ah, alcohol as pain reliever, Julia thought. She should have guessed.

“I'm sorry.”

A door opened behind her, and Seth appeared. Her whole body went on alert. She hadn't seen him since “the kiss”. He must have been uncomfortable, too, because he kept his gaze focused on Walter.

“Hi, Walter,” he said.

“Hi, Reverend,” Walter said. “D'ya know Julia… uh… what's your last name?”

Amazing. Drunk as a skunk and yet his inbred Southern manners still abounded. “Richardson. Julia Richardson.”

He turned back to Seth. “D'ya know Julia Richardson?”

“We've met,” Seth said, flashing a brief smile in her direction. “I saw you two leave and thought I'd better make sure everything was all right.”

“We were getting some fresh air,” Julia said.

“I'm drunk,” Walter declared again.

“I know,” Seth said, his gaze filled with compassion. “I've told you, a bottle isn't going to help.”

Walter sighed. “I know. Been doing better, but then the wedding. Niece's wedding. Couldn't miss it. S'just sad. Still remember how pretty Janet looked.”

“Well, you've done your duty,” Seth said. “Why don't I call you a cab?”

Walter's shoulders bobbed up and down. “‘Kay—”

Seth glanced at Julia over his shoulder as he led Walter away. “Wait here. I'll be back in a minute.”

****

It took only minutes for a cab to arrive. Seth instructed the driver to make sure Walter got inside. He waited until the cab turned the corner and disappeared out of sight before venturing back toward Julia.

He should bolt in the opposite direction, but his feet didn't want to cooperate. Their kiss a few days ago had replayed in his mind a million times. He'd gotten a few more sleepless nights out of it, too. At this point he'd probably end up in a funny farm after he went crazy due to sleep deprivation.

A funny farm might be worth it if it meant experiencing one more kiss, though. Even the one might be worth it.

Julia stood waiting in the courtyard. He'd expected her to take off the minute he walked out of sight. He'd half hoped she would. Trust her to listen to instructions at the worst time. Why couldn't she be contrary as usual?

“I could have handled Walter,” she said as he approached. “You didn't have to come save the day.”

“I'm know, but he's a friend.”

She sighed. “Poor guy.”

“Yeah, he's had it rough. Sent shock waves through the town when Walter and Janet split up. They were a staple around here.”

“Guess the real world has finally made its way to Covington Falls.”

“I hope we never get so jaded that we look at divorce as commonplace,” Seth said, with a shake of his head.

“You keep on hoping,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Oh, a challenge
. He loved these. “Is it only your parents who made you so cynical?”

“Remember the keen eye for observation you find so endearing?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in spite of himself. “Did I say it was endearing?”

“It's my most attractive quality apparently,” she said, batting her lashes.

His eyes drifted over her face. Then down. “I'm not sure I'd go that far.” Seth heard the words come out of his mouth and couldn't believe he'd just uttered them. “I shouldn't be saying things like that.”

A choked sound escaped as her eyes went wide. “
Anyway
. That observant quality means I don't look at the world through rose-colored glasses. Walter and Janet aren't the exception. They're the rule. I simply realized it early in life.”

Embarrassment turned to anger, though for once his ire stemmed from another source. “Your parents have a lot to answer for. How many times have they both been married anyway?”

“Dad's on number five, or maybe six. I lost count. He married a twenty-three year old fitness instructor named Tiffany about a year ago. Seems the older he gets, the younger they get. My mom is on her third husband. She's actually been with him for ten years, so maybe she can make it work. I'm just glad to be out of the whole mess.”

“It must have been traumatic for you growing up.”

“I didn't live in a war-torn nation,” she said, her voice once again dripping with sarcasm. “They didn't lock me in a closet and give me only bread and water. I was mostly an afterthought in their lives.”

“Did you live with your mother?”

Wariness crowded out her annoyance. “Why are you so interested in the soap opera that was my life?”

“I guess I'm trying to understand why you're so skeptical about love.”

“Why? So you can fix me? Make it all better with your wise counsel?”

How could he have the urge to kiss her and throttle her at the same time? “No. I want to know you.”

She drew herself up, as if readying for a battle. “You want to know what makes me tick, Rev? Fine. Might as well start at the beginning. My father left my mother for a lounge singer named Vanessa when I was five.”

“A lounge singer?”

“I know, not very original,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Vanessa wasn't crazy about kids, so I rarely saw my father for the next couple years. Then my mother married a Frenchman named Henri. He hated kids even more than Vanessa, so I got shipped off to my father's.”

An image of a little redheaded girl filled his mind, and Seth's heart broke for her. “How old were you by then?”

“Ten. Vanessa was replaced by a corporate lawyer named Brooke when I was thirteen. Can you guess her feelings about kids?”

“She didn't like them.”

“Ding, ding ding! Got it in one. Give the man a prize,” she said. “Off to Mom's I went, who by this time was re-divorced and re-married to Charles Winthrop, an English aristocrat who claimed he was 211
^th
in line for the throne of England.”

Despite the horrifying story, he smiled. “211
^th
? That close?”

“I'm not even sure if it was true or something he made up to impress everyone,” she said, grinning back.

“Then why not pick a number a little closer? Like 114
^th
?”

“I love how you're making light of my traumatic childhood.” Her mouth turned down in a mock pout. “Here I am spilling my guts, and you're not taking it seriously at all.”

In an instant, his amusement vanished again. “Believe me, I‘m taking your story seriously. I'd like to get your parents alone in a room.”

“Why? So you can defend my honor?”

“I'd do it in a heartbeat.”

Julia held his gaze for a long while, as if seeking an answer. Finally, she took a deep breath. “What if I told you that Charles didn't mind having a teenaged stepdaughter around? That he might have liked it a little too much?”

“What do you mean?”

She lowered her head, and he noticed her hands were clenched tight enough to turn her fingers white. His pulse kicked up. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like her next confession.

“He liked to look at me,” Julia said, with barely any expression at all.

No, he wasn't going to like this. At. All. “Look at you?”

“I developed early, you know? By the time I was thirteen, I looked like one of those college coeds you see on those awful videos. You said it yourself. I was every teenage boy's fantasy.”

Seth's skin suddenly seemed too tight. “He wasn't a teenager.”

A thin, high-pitched laugh escaped. “I know. Creepy, right?”

No!

The shout lodged somewhere in his throat. Seth finally understood what a killing rage felt like. Blood pumped through his body with such force he thought he would explode. He paced a few steps away, trying to get hold of himself, and then whirled around to face her.

“Did he touch you?”

“I—” She shrank back, as if sensing the menace rising up inside him.

Even then, Seth couldn't stop. He stalked across the short expanse and leaned down, until his face was only inches from hers. “Did your stepfather
touch
you?”

“No, no! He never laid a finger on me,” she said, head shaking back and forth.

The primordial scream in his mind eased. A little. “Never?”

“He only looked.” She searched his face. “Are you all right? You're not going to pass out, are you?”

Seth straightened up and swiped a hand across his face. “I'm sorry, but the thought of someone hurting you like that makes me crazy.”

“You'd probably feel the same way if you found out any child had been abused.”

“Of course I'd be angry, but thinking of it happening to you—” He swallowed the bile in his throat. Thinking of someone abusing Julia undid him.

“You'd like to get Charles in a room alone, too?”

“I think I'd kill him with my bare hands.”

Even as the words left his mouth, Seth winced. He wasn't some medieval warrior haring out from the castle into battle, but a minister.

Her eyes filled. “Oh…”

“Are you crying?” he asked, heart stopping at the sight of the tears. “You're probably traumatized, and I made you relive everything. I'm so sorry.”

She reached out a hand. “No, I'm not upset over Charles. I'm not used to anyone caring. It's pretty sweet, actually. Caveman-like, but romantic in a weird way.”

“You think it's romantic that I want to hunt down your mother's husband?”

“She's not married to him anymore. She's with some Australian named James. I told you, she's been with him for a long time by her standards, so maybe he'll stick.”

The laughter that bubbled up from his chest startled them both.

“What?” she said.

God, are you kidding me?
“She finds it romantic.”

“Are you talking to the sky again?”

“You might find my caveman tendencies are cute, but they scare me to death.” He was still trying to shake off the effects of a near implosion.

“Why?”

“I'm a man of God,” he explained. “A man of peace and forgiveness. I'm not supposed to want to tear a guy limb from limb.”

“Would you rather get him in a room alone and counsel him?” she asked, tilting her head and sending him a teasing smile. “Tell him it's creepy to look at young girls?”

“I think my fists would be doing most of the counseling.”

Julia took a deep breath. “You say the most romantic things.”

Wow, caveman does work on girls.
“Better than flowers, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” she whispered, her eyes dark and inviting.

Since Julia enjoyed his caveman-like transformation, he took advantage and leaned forward. So did she.

“Seth—”

They jolted apart. Amy Vining stood about ten feet away. She seemed annoyed, though he couldn't fathom why.

Seth straightened and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Amy. Lovely evening.”

“It certainly is,” Amy said. “Enjoying a walk in the courtyard?”

“Julia and I were talking.”

“Of course,” Amy said, flashing a bright, almost manic, smile. “I hate to interrupt, but actually I'm here to fetch Julia.”

“Me?” Julia squeaked.

Amy's gaze shifted toward Julia. For some reason Seth felt like he'd been caught with the innocent Victorian lady. Would he have to meet Amy with pistols at dawn now, he wondered?

“Betsy asked me to find you,” Amy said. “They're about to cut the cake.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a second.”

Amy didn't move. “I think she wants you to come now.”

Julia glanced at him.

“Go ahead,” Seth said.

Julia slipped past him and disappeared inside without looking back. Feeling like he'd run a marathon, Seth sank down onto a bench.

And started to pray.