Читать книгу The Firefighter's Refrain - Loree Lough - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

FINN REFILLED MARK’S coffee mug. “How long have you known that guy you brought in here the other night?”

“Which guy?”

She could tell by the teasing look on his face that he knew exactly which guy.

“The firefighter you were in here with the other day.”

“You mean Sam?” He grinned. “Guess you haven’t heard that curiosity kills that cat, huh?”

“Then, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a cat.” She winked. “So what’s his story?”

“Story?”

Finn held the coffeepot over his lap, and Mark laughed.

“Okay, all right, I’ll talk...if you sit down.”

Sliding into the booth across from him, Finn placed the coffeepot on a napkin.

“Sam came to Nashville for the same reason as most of us did,” Mark explained. “And when he couldn’t find a label to sign him or a band to hire him, he parlayed his volunteer firefighter skills into a full-time job.”

Part-time musicians, in her opinion, were more determined—maybe even desperate—to become full-time entertainers.

“Don’t include me in your motley ‘most of us’ group. I was brought here—against my will, I might add—by parents who didn’t give a fig about anyone or anything but a recording contract.” Finn glanced across the way, where her younger sister was laughing and chatting with Rowdy. “Not even Ciara.”

“But you made the best of a bad situation...”

True enough. Especially considering the aftereffects of Ciara’s head injury—the one she’d sustained in the accident that had nearly killed the entire Leary family. If not for the firefighters, on their way back to the station after a call...

Finn pictured Mark’s friend in head-to-toe gear and wanted to know how he’d hurt his leg. Instead, she asked, “Is he any good?”

He smirked. “You’re talking musically, right?”

“Of course, musically.” What had she said or done to leave him with the impression that she was interested in anything else?

“Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

“What’s his last name again? Maybe I’ve heard of him.”

“Marshall. But it isn’t likely you’ve heard of him. Sam’s talented, but remember...he keeps a low profile. Besides, he spends too much time in front of a classroom to make a name for himself onstage.”

A wannabe musician who didn’t flaunt his talent at every turn? Finn didn’t believe it for a minute.

“Where’s he from?”

“Big ranch just outside of Denver.”

“So no family here in Tennessee?”

“Not that I know of. I think he was the first Marshall who didn’t devote himself to The Double M.” He grinned. “You want his cell number, so you can interview him yourself?”

She came this close to saying yes, then heard Ciara giggle.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” My life is already complicated enough without adding another self-centered musician to the mix.

Mark shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t any of his business anyway.

“Did he say yes?”

“Did who say yes to—” Mark nodded. Shook his head. Sighed. “Oh. You mean Sam. And the partnership deal. Like I said, he’s a very private guy, so that’s something you’ll have to ask him directly.”

In other words, Sam had said yes. Her fleeting interest in him died. Entertainers were trouble enough, leaving shattered hearts and disappointment in their wake. It was one of the only life lessons her parents had taught her, and she’d learned it well. But a musician with access to all the power brokers who frequented The Meetinghouse?

Finn got to her feet, grabbing the coffeepot. “Coffee’s on me this morning. Have a good one, Mark.”

Head down and determined to blot the memory of Sam’s arresting smile from her mind, Finn made a beeline to help the middle-aged couple at the cash register...

...and plowed right into Sam Marshall.

Big hands took hold of her shoulders and held on until she was steady on her feet.

“Good thing that’s half empty,” he said with a nod at the coffeepot, “or you’d have a burn to compound what happened the other night.”

He was right, but Finn had no intention of admitting it.

Bean passed by with an empty tray. “Want me to take that off your hands, Finn?”

She put the pot on to the tray and winked at the girl. “Thanks, sweetie. Add five minutes to your a.m. break.”

Bean had to stoop to dole out a thank-you hug. “You’re the best, boss. The best!” she said, and hurried away.

Finn exchanged a few pleasantries with the couple at the cash register, and as they exited, two more diners entered. Bean raced up to lead them to a table.

“Meeting your partner for breakfast?” Finn asked him. Maybe changing the subject would change her attitude, too. She saw no reason to treat him any differently than any other paying customer.

Sam looked over her left shoulder and fixed his gaze on Mark, who seemed oblivious to his presence.

“I’m surprised he told you.” He met her eyes again. “He’s usually tight-lipped, especially where the business is concerned.”

“Funny, he said pretty much the same thing about you.”

“Did he, now? And yet he spilled the beans about our meeting.”

“Actually, he didn’t. I put two and two together.”

“Don’t defend him,” he said, grinning.

“I wasn’t—”

“Hey, Marshall,” Mark called. “Is this block-the-aisle thing becoming a habit?”

Sam snapped off a light salute. “I’d better get over there before he takes a second whack at breaking the sound barrier.”

She started a fresh pot of coffee, then leaned her backside against the stainless-steel counter. It was only ten o’clock in the morning, so why did it feel like midnight?

Ciara copied her stance. “Who-who-who’s that man?” she asked, pointing at Sam.

“A friend of Mark’s.” Thankfully, the men were deep in conversation, and she could stare to her heart’s content...for now.

“Is he—is he new to Nashville?”

“Mark says he’s been here for a couple of years.”

Her sister—a younger, shorter version of their once-beautiful mother—hid a giggle behind pink-and-black polka-dot fingernails. “I’d remember if he was in here before, because he’s handsome,” she said, drawing out the word. Shouldering Finn, Ciara added, “Is he one of those movie stars who lives in town?”

“I don’t know anything about him, except that his name is Sam Marshall. His family has a ranch out west somewhere. He’s a firefighter, and hurt his leg, probably on the job. He sings a little, and unless I’m mistaken, he’s part owner of The Meetinghouse.”

“Sounds to me like you know almost as much about him as his mama does,” Rowdy teased, leaning his beefy forearms on the serving counter.

Ciara grinned as Finn pointed at the revolving order rack. “By my count, you have half a dozen orders to cook up.” She grabbed her pad and headed for the dining room. “Better get busy, because I’ll be back in a minute with a couple more.”

Ciara feigned a look of disapproval. “Now, Finn, is that—is that any way to talk to your assistant manager?”

“Hey. Whose side are you on?” Finn wrapped her in a fierce hug, then finger combed Ciara’s wavy brown bangs. “You have customers, too, sister dear,” she said, turning her toward the counter. “You’d better get crackin’, too.”

Rowdy filled the twelve-slice toaster and pushed the lever. “Don’t mind her, kid. Finn’s old before her time, but it ain’t her fault.”

“I know,” Ciara said.

Before the accident, her sister had been an athletic, straight-A student. Afterward, she’d become a stumbling, stuttering girl who didn’t remember the drunken argument that had made their dad stomp on the gas until the already battered Jeep rolled end over end before coming to a screeching, grinding halt alongside the highway. She didn’t remember spending weeks in the hospital, enduring six operations, the months of physical therapy that followed, or the fact that Misty and Connor had left town instead of dealing with their parental duties or taking responsibility for what they’d done to her.

But Finn remembered. And she’d never forgive them for it.

Shake it off, Finn. They’ll never change. And, as Pete loved to say, What’s done is done, so just accept it. Besides, she’d played a small role in the accident, too...

Finn stepped up to Mark’s table. “What can I get you gents?”

“Sweet tea and a burger,” he said. “Medium rare, with a side of fries.”

“For breakfast?” Sam chuckled. “Broke up with the dietician already, did you?”

“Mind your own business, smart guy. This pretty young gal has better things to do than watch you poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Ah, but it does belong. As your partner, I’m concerned about your health.”

Even Finn had to laugh at that.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Sam told her.

“When I deliver your orders,” she said, winking at Mark, “you’ll have to tell me all about the woman who almost talked you into a health food diet.” She pointed her pencil at Sam. “If he starts talking about her before I get back, stop him, hear?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am.”

Ciara had been half right, Finn thought, clipping the order to a mini clothespin on the order wheel. Sam was handsome...but he had a sense of humor. In her experience, the two didn’t coexist nearly often enough.

“I don’t get it,” Rowdy said, snapping the ticket from the rotating wheel. “Why does Mark eat two meals a day in here when he could eat free at his own place?”

“I know why,” Ciara said, clapping like a schoolgirl. “Mark eats here because he’s bored with the food on his own menu, that’s why!”

Innocence radiated from Ciara’s brown eyes, prompting Finn to draw her into another hug. “You are so smart!”

“Not as smart as you, but—but—but that’s okay, because I’m the pretty sister.”

Laughing, Finn said, “Yes, you sure are.” She was lovely, even with the ropelike scar that started near her right nostril and disappeared in her hair...one more reason to resent their parents.

“Did I tell you that Mommy called me today?”

Finn took a moment to gather her self-control. “Really,” she said through clenched teeth. A call from Misty could only mean one thing: trouble.

“She’s coming to Nashville in a few months, and, and she wants to stay with us!”

There was barely room for the two of them in the apartment above the diner, even before Misty’s suitcases exploded with clothes, shoes, makeup and hair products.

“I’ll book her a room at a nice hotel. We’ll all enjoy the visit more if we’re not stepping on each other’s toes all day and night.”

“But, Finn... Mommy misses us. She said—she said she wants to snuggle and watch old movies together. And eat popcorn.” Ciara raised both shoulders, smiling. “And drink cocoa!”

“It’s August, Kee. Nobody drinks cocoa in August.”

“Why not? We have air-conditioning.”

Oh, if only she had Ciara’s “keep it simple” gift!

“Did she say when she’ll get here?”

“No. She, she need to make some arrange—arrangements.”

“Aha.” Finn recognized it as Misty speak for I’ll be there, eventually...unless someone makes me a better offer.

“Promise me you won’t be too disappointed if Misty can’t come. You know how...busy she is.”

“I won’t be disappointed because she’ll be here! She can sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Finn and Rowdy exchanged a wary glance.

“You’ll see,” Ciara added. “She’ll come. You won’t—you won’t really make her stay in a hotel, will you?”

“Maybe you ought to book a room for yourself,” Rowdy told Finn.

But his joke fell flat as she recalled Misty’s last spontaneous visit. A local newswoman had reserved the diner for a bachelorette party, and while Finn had worked, Misty had decided to treat Ciara to her first pub crawl. Not only had she forgotten that even one piña colada would interact poorly with Ciara’s medications, but she’d left Ciara alone—supposedly “just long enough for a few dances.” Alone, afraid and out of her element, Ciara had panicked and wandered off. If not for the elderly Baltimore couple who’d coaxed Finn’s number from her...

Finn shuddered at the awful things that could have happened to someone as sweet tempered and naive as Ciara.

Rowdy shoved two plates onto the serving counter. “Order up.”

“Can I deliver it, Finn? I won’t drop anything. I promise.”

She’d assigned Ciara the lunch counter to save her from having to walk while balancing food-laden trays. But this request seemed important to her, and what better way to let her sister prove herself than with two identical orders, delivered to two easygoing guys?

Ciara took a plate in each hand. “Two trips are better than making a mess, right? I’ll be right back for their—for their sweet tea.”

Finn got a little teary-eyed watching Ciara approach the table, then engage in friendly conversation with Sam and Mark. She’d been through so much since the accident, but instead of coming out the other side bitter and self-pitying, Ciara woke every morning smiling, looking forward to the day. Finn plucked a paper napkin from a dispenser on the counter and blotted her eyes.

“Quit worrying about her,” Rowdy said, patting Finn’s shoulder. “She’s a happy, well-adjusted young woman, thanks mostly to you.”

Rowdy thought he knew the whole story, but he didn’t. He meant well, though, so Finn sent him a feeble smile anyway. Keeping a roof over Ciara’s head and food in her belly—well, anyone with a half a heart and a steady paycheck could do that much. Finn believed she owed her the rest. Whoever her sister was—and might become—was due to her own persistence and good-hearted nature. Finn wouldn’t take credit for that.

Rowdy pointed. “Shape up, girl. Here she comes.”

She picked up a clean cloth and spritzed disinfectant on the lunch counter. If Ciara saw her tears, Finn could blame the cleaning product.

“They changed their minds. They—they want sodas instead of sweet tea.” Ciara scooped crushed ice into identical red plastic glasses. “You know, I think that Sam guy likes you.”

“All of my customers like me,” Finn teased.

“Yeah, but he’s the only one who stares at you that way.”

“What way?” Finn looked across the diner, straight into the big blue eyes of Sam Marshall, whose dimple appeared at the same time as his charming, slanted smile. It didn’t seem rehearsed, like the flirtations of so many other rock star hopefuls who frequented The Right Note.

“See there?” Ciara wrapped her hands around the full, fizzing tumblers and started back to the table. “Told you he liked you.”

Rowdy chuckled and went back to his over-easy eggs. “By Jove, I think she’s right.”

“Stow your bow, Cupid.” Finn returned the cleaning supplies to their shelf and faced him. “You’re wasting perfectly good arrows, shooting at the likes of me.”

He put down his spatula and, wiping enormous hands on a corner of his apron, stepped up to the service counter.

“Finnegan Ula Logan Leary...”

She hated Misty’s silly reason for choosing the mostly male names that appeared on her birth certificate: “Your initials spell FULL, and that’s what I want your life to be!” If she’d been the least bit sincere, would she have made choices that left Finn feeling empty and afraid...and alone?

“...why are you determined to make life so hard for yourself?”

Of all people, Rowdy should know the answer to that. He’d been there when Pete had provided a home for her and Ciara after Misty and Connor had taken off.

“Times like these,” Rowdy continued, “I wish Pete was still alive. He’s the only one who could ever talk sense into you.”

She couldn’t deny it. But Pete Maxon had earned the right to scold and advise her since, at the dawn of his golden years, the never-married Pete had accepted the mantle of friend and father to her and Ciara. And he’d done a far better job of it than Connor ever had.

“You have a right to a normal, happy life, Finn. Husband. Kids. A home of your own. She wants that for you, too.” Using his chin as a pointer, he drew her attention to her sister, laughing and joking with a family in the corner booth.

Ciara turned, as if she sensed they were talking about her. When their eyes locked, Finn saw pure childlike love in her sister’s expression. That was what had prompted her to devote herself to Ciara, no matter what. Well, that, and her role in the accident. If doing right by Ciara meant foregoing the white-picket-fence scene, so be it.

“I did some checking,” Rowdy was saying. “Sam hails from a big, tight-knit family out west. Could be just the type who’d love that girl almost as much as you do.”

Ciara stacked dirty plates in her arms and made her way back to the counter. The effort needed to keep things in balance showed on her face. Finn took a step forward, thinking to relieve her of the burden.

“Don’t,” Rowdy said, anticipating her intentions. “She’s doing fine.”

Ciara proved him right by easing the soiled dishes into a tub. And without a word or fanfare of any kind, she carried the whole mess into the kitchen.

“Look, Teddy! I brought—I brought you a surprise!” she announced, sliding the tub onto the dishwasher’s conveyor belt.

Grinning, the boy rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks. You’re my new best friend.”

Heart swelling, Finn fought tears of joy and pride.

“You ought to smile more,” a DJ-deep voice said from behind her. “Because you’re mighty pretty when you do.”

Turning, she met the smiling eyes of firefighter, musician and comes-from-stable-stock Sam Marshall...

...and hoped he couldn’t hear her hard-beating heart.