“They’re going to put lanterns in the upswing parts. That’ll be so pretty.”
“Yeah, this place really goes all out for the holidays. You don’t see that much anymore, with money being so tight.”
“People donate the funds to make it happen,” Lisa told him in a proud tone. “It’s important, so we make sure it gets done.”
“Gotta admire that.” As he pulled open the door of Harland Hardware, they were greeted by a unique version of “Carol of the Bells.”
“Are they banging on metal?” Lisa asked Gus, who was filling a rack with work gloves.
“Hammers on anvils,” he replied with a grin. “That’s the name of their band, too.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “Where do you find these albums?”
“Santa brings ’em.” Sliding the last pair of gloves in place, he asked, “What can I do for you two?”
Lisa didn’t answer, and Seth realized she was letting him take the lead. After months of enduring people’s well-intentioned coddling, he liked that she was allowing him to stand on his own. “Aunt Ruth wants some redecorating done in those apartments. Lisa’s here to make sure I don’t pick out anything stupid.”
Laughing, she patted his arm. “Why don’t you hang with Gus while I check out the new stock? When I find some things I think Ruthy will like, I’ll holler.”
“Works for me,” Seth agreed quickly.
After she’d gone, Gus gave Seth a knowing look. “That girl likes taking care of you, doesn’t she?”
Seth’s first impulse was to deny it, but after a second thought he had to admit Gus might be right. Because he didn’t want to consider it any further right now, he opted for an old military tactic. He turned the tables.
“Mind if I ask you something?” he asked as he followed Gus to the main counter.
“Sure. Might not get an answer, but fire away.”
“What’s going on with you and my aunt?”
Looking neither pleased nor angry, the old Marine studied him through narrowed eyes. “What makes you think there’s anything going on?”
Seth knew he’d hit the nail squarely on the head, but he shrugged to keep things casual. “You’re in the diner at least twice a day, and even if she’s up to her ears in orders she always takes your table herself.” Grinning, he added, “There’s a huge mug behind the counter with your name on it.”
“Those fancy teacups of hers are too small for me. I’m just saving her time by getting all my coffee at once.”
“Uh-huh.”
After a few seconds, Gus relented with a hearty laugh. “All right, you got me. I think the world of that woman, and she doesn’t seem to mind me too much, either. Happy now?”
“I would be if you’d do something about it.”
Seth knew he was pushing it, but his aunt had been a widow for more than twenty years. She never complained, but he hated thinking of her rattling around in her big, beautiful Victorian house all alone. He was pretty sure if his uncle Paul had the chance, he’d tell her the same thing.
“And what about you?” Gus challenged with a knowing look. “When are you gonna do something about Lisa Sawyer?”
Feeling as if he’d been ambushed, Seth tried to spit out the answer that should have come easily. He had no intention of doing anything about Lisa, but for some reason he couldn’t form the words. What was wrong with him, anyway?
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Grinning, Gus deftly changed the subject. “So what is it you two are looking for?”
“I’m not sure,” Seth replied with a grimace. “Aunt Ruth wants something called ‘feature walls’ in these rooms, and Lisa thought wallpaper would look nice. I’m no good with that fancy stuff, so she’s helping me out.”
Lisa shouted for Seth, and he grinned. “There’s my cue.”
As he strolled past the counter, Gus called after him, “I’ve got shower curtains and bathroom googaws back there, too. Be sure to check those out.”
In reply, Seth just groaned, and Gus’s laughter followed him back into the decorator section of the store.
* * *
By the time they were finished at the hardware store, the storm that had been predicted all week was picking up steam. Lisa decided it would be smart to collect the bistro chairs and take them inside before they ended up down the street. There were twenty of them clustered around five tables, and she was fighting the wind every step of the way.
Fortunately, Seth pitched in, lifting two of the wrought-iron tables as if they were made of paper. With his help, the job went much quicker. She was holding the door open for him when a gust of wind roared down the sidewalk with the force of a runaway eighteen-wheeler. Behind it came a chilling rain, and Lisa was grateful when Seth lined himself up to shield her from the water coming in sideways under the awnings. Signs creaked overhead, and the trees lining the sidewalk were bent almost double trying to absorb the wind.
“Wow, this is really something!” she yelled over the noise.
“Almost done.”
He sounded so calm, she glanced over at him. Despite the power of that swirling wind, he looked as though he was doing nothing tougher than wading through ankle-deep water at the beach. Light as she was, Lisa knew if he stepped aside, she’d be blown into the brick wall behind her.
Suddenly, there was a harsh crack as a streak of lightning touched down close by. The roar of thunder was immediate, and she found herself flattened against the wall she’d just been thinking about. She could feel Seth’s heart thumping a measured, reassuring beat against her cheek, even though her own was racing along in sheer panic. After a few seconds, he pulled away, and she saw someone she’d never met before.
Alert and rigid, his hands braced on either side of her, he looked ready for a fight. As if that wasn’t unsettling enough, his eyes had gone a breathtaking icy hue. As his expression mellowed, the color came back into them, and he looked her over with genuine concern. “Are you okay?”
“You mean other than the fact that you just scared me half to death?” More than a little rattled, she hoped she’d managed to sound more or less normal.
“Sorry. Reflex.”
Nobody she knew had reflexes like that. Quick and violent, they gave her a terrifying glimpse into his past. It was a view she’d rather not have gotten.
“What did you think was going to happen?” she asked.
Before he could answer, she heard the ominous groan of a tree and looked over to the town square. She watched in horror as an ancient oak the size of a tanker truck crashed through the roof of the oldest church in Harland. Whipping out her cell phone, she dialed 911 with one hand and dragged Seth along with the other.
“Pastor Charles’s car is in the parking lot,” she explained as they ran toward the little white church. “He’s probably in there.”
Before she even finished speaking, Seth broke into a full-on gallop, leaving her far behind. By the time Lisa shouted their location to the county emergency operator and got to the chapel, he was yanking boards away from the ruined doorway.
“He’s in there, all right,” Seth ground out between clenched teeth. “He heard me and called for help. Said the roof caved in on him and he can’t move.”
Sending up an urgent prayer for the pastor’s safety, Lisa helped Seth clear a space just wide enough for them to get through. When they had one, he turned to her and gripped her shoulders in his scratched, bleeding hands.
“Lisa, I want you to wait in the parking