Chapter Twelve
Sethcouldn’tsleep.Tiredof tossing and turning, he headed for the forward observation car, the place where he’d been teamed up with Joy and Chantal. At two a.m. he expected the car to be empty. The small counter where they prepped drinks was closed up tight, the lights were off, but a few electric candles glowed in the near dark. It wasn’t fully dark because the train’s Christmas lights reflected off the snow outside.
A lone figure sat in the corner. He turned to go, not wanting to disturb their solitude.
“You can stay,” a voice called out. “Join me. I’m just having tea before I go to bed.”
He walked closer. Bruce, the bartender, sat with his feet on the bench across from him. His normally neat blond hair was mussed, and his work tie undone. “Little late to be up,” Bruce said.
“I could say the same to you,” Seth chuckled, though he didn’t feel particularly jolly.
“Late shift today. Closed up at one-thirty. I just finished tidying up and needed a moment to unwind.” He shifted his feet and nodded for Seth to sit. “Congrats on the win, mate.” His Australian accent was heavier than usual.
“Thanks.”
“Want a drink? I could open the bar for you.”
“I’d take another,” a thirty-something bearded man sitting alone at an adjacent table called. Seth looked at him. Davyn Kayne, the poet, frowned back.
“Mr. Kayne. Why don’t you join us?” he offered. His sister was a huge fan of the somewhat reclusive poet’s work. Maybe he could get her an autograph.
The slightly rumpled gentleman joined them. They chatted about the weather while Bruce fixed the man a drink.
“Last one, Mr. Kayne,” Bruce said in his heavy Aussie accent. “You sure you don’t want one, Mr. Mathison?”
“Naw. I’m good.” The last thing Seth needed was to start drinking when he was stressed. Too many firefighters used alcohol as a coping mechanism. He did have an occasional drink, but never when he was stressed. He sat across from Bruce.
“Excitement over possibly winning the big prize keeping you awake?”
Seth snorted. “I wish.”
“Woman troubles?”
“Those are my options?” Seth said somewhat sarcastically. “Excitement and women?”
“Well, could be work, but you’re on vacation.”
Seth leaned his head back and closed his eyes. After a long silence, he said. “Why are women so confusing?”
“Don’t ask me, mate. I’ve been aboard for five days, including training. I’ve got three chicks chasing me, and the one I like won’t even look at me. Dunno, mate, chicks are weird.”
“Not weird,” Seth countered, trying to assemble his thoughts. “Complicated.” He nodded at the mental discovery. “We just need to unlock the puzzle.”
Bruce laughed. “Right.” So much sarcasm in one word. “You and Joy then? What’s up? That kid getting in your way?”
“Not even close. I adore Chantal.”
“And you’ve got the hots for the mom?” Bruce took a swig from his large mug.
“I like Joy. We’ve clashed a few times, but she’s easy to be with. She…” He struggled to find an explanation for how he felt. He’d never felt anything even close. And the one experience that had felt similar sure hadn’t been an overnight thing.
It was like love at first sight.
Whoa! No!
Maybe?
Something had sparked in his chest when he saw Joy on the platform. It had grown over the hours they spent together. He wanted to explore that and see where it went.
