She laughed. “It looks like it might bark. You could always upgrade your job skills, you know. Take some training. Maybe be a paramedic. Or nurse. I bet male nurses are in high demand.”
He smiled broadly. “Now, there’s a thought.” He tipped his beer bottle and drained it. “This has been real nice, Erin. Thanks for the beer.” He put the bottle on the deck near her feet and stood, gathering up his stuff.
“What’s the bow for?” she asked.
He slung it over one shoulder. “Mostly for looks, it turns out. On one of my first treks through these mountains I came face-to-face with a mountain lion who was not shy. Took him a long time to run off, and for a while there I thought I was going to be his lunch. I started carrying the bow and arrows when I hike back in here.”
“What about that great big knife?” she asked.
“If a mountain lion gets close enough for me to use this,” he said, hooking the machete to his belt, “I’m going to get scars. This is for weeds and shrubs blocking the trail, not for self-defense. Or homicide, as you originally assumed.”
“Wouldn’t a gun make more sense?”
“Probably,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t like guns so much. The boys—my brothers—they all hunt. I don’t hunt.”
“Hmm,” she said, standing. “Sure I can’t give you a lift?”
“No, you sit tight. I like to walk.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. Work on vacationing. I get the impression you’re not that good at it yet.”
“Yeah, that seems to be the case….”
“I put gardening tools in the shed and hooked up a hose with a spray nozzle. There’s also a sprinkler in the shed. If you think about it, give the tomatoes a drink.”
“Wow. You really went to a lot of trouble.”
“I didn’t even think about it, as a matter of fact. Just seemed what needed to be done at the time. You’re happy about it, though?”
“Sure. Of course. Really, thank you. Be careful, then.”
“Always careful, Erin.” He gave her a little salute and walked off.
She had made a lot of assumptions about him, which was very unlawyerly of Ms. Foley. But it worked for him. He wasn’t about to lie, but withholding was fair game. And not, as Noah had suggested, so that she’d feel really stupid. Rather, so she would be forced to know the man and not the credentials, if she was so inclined. Aiden was not self-deprecating—he knew very well what his assets were. He wasn’t bad-looking, at least when he was cleaned up and shaved. He was intelligent and articulate, and absolutely had to be sensitive in his line of work, dealing with the most personal parts of a woman’s anatomy for a living as he did.
And of course
he
thought he was fun, but that was so subjective. And yet, whenever he dated someone, ninety percent of the time he felt as though they weren’t comfortable just being themselves around him. Now,
that
was a double-edged sword. Not only did some women try to impress him because he was a doctor, sometimes covering up their good old natural charm, but there was the flip side—hiding their psychopathic tendencies, like his awful ex, Annalee. Aiden just wanted to be a boy getting to know a girl. How hard was that?
He was probably overthinking, especially where Erin was concerned. She was an attorney, after all. And clearly a successful one—he could tell not only by her classy cabin and clothes, but by her confidence. Make that overconfidence. She would not be intimidated by a mere physician; she would not start acting as if there were bonus points involved in catching one. And it was very likely they weren’t even going to be friends, much less anything more.
So why not just correct her misassumptions?
Because it would be fun, that’s why. Let her get attracted to a guy who couldn’t make in a year what she paid in taxes—fun. Uh-oh, he thought—he wanted her to get attracted to him? Well, she was hot. Gorgeous. That silky strawberry-blond hair, sweet complexion, incredible smile, beautiful long legs, tight butt…He had been struck by her physical assets the second he saw her, but then she had opened her mouth….
Today was better. She was just as hot, but when she opened her mouth she was actually a human being. So, a little cat and mouse didn’t really hurt anything. He wasn’t lying; yes, he’d been at one with the bedpan and worse. Obstetrics could be real messy work.
He thought about these things as he walked down her mile-long driveway to the road. Probably another reason he was a little overly cautious where women were concerned—he’d had that wife. Hmm. He’d risked court martial when he crawled between her legs. He was fresh off a boat when he was completely seduced by a sexy young navy corpsman who worked in the hospital. She was the twenty-one-year-old daughter of Russian immigrants who wanted to get out of the navy and saw Aiden as her ticket. She was a subordinate, enlisted personnel, and he was schtupping her. She was so young, but not only wasn’t she exactly naive, she was the most gifted lover he’d ever experienced.
And they were quickly found out. In retrospect, she obviously leaked it. Aiden’s commander suggested the quick fix of marriage and she would be discharged. Voilà, just what she was looking for. She dropped the placating behavior and turned on the shrew. It didn’t take him long to understand—she wanted to leave the navy with a little pocket change. The price of his quickie divorce, handled by a friend of a friend, was ten grand. And a lesson hard learned.
Annalee certainly hadn’t been in awe of him, the doctor. He had been exactly what she was looking for and she had used her many wiles to catch him, willing to do anything to please him, and please him she did. Right up until she started screaming and throwing things.
And that brought to mind the fact that she was now looking for him. Fat chance, Annalee. Never gonna happen.
He got to his car, threw his stuff in the back and took off for home. As he drove into the cabin compound, he passed Rosie and her mom fishing in the river and gave them a toot of the horn and a wave. As he pulled up to his cabin, he saw Luke and Art having a heart-to-heart on Luke’s porch, their facing chairs pulled close together. He gave another toot and wave. Then he went inside for a shower.
Art’s eyes lit up and he got very excited. “Okay, Luke. Let’s go there now.”
“Not right now, Art,” Luke said. “Ellen said you can visit on Sunday afternoon, and I’ll be glad to take you. Today is Thursday, so you have to be patient. But right now I want to know—what kind of friend is Netta?”
Art looked a bit confused. “A good kind?” he said in the form of a question.
Luke was uncomfortable, and when he was, his neck got red and he scratched it absently. “Right. Good. What I mean is, when you visit with her, what will you want to do with her?”
Art straightened very proudly. “I want to date with her.”
“Ah.” Luke sighed. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Have you dated with Netta before?”
“I don’t think so. We talked and held hands sometimes. But Shirl used to make the girls stay on one side of the house and the boys on the other side, except for eating and TV.”
“Well, I’ve got news for you—dating is mostly talking and holding hands. Also, eating and watching TV,” Luke informed him. “But I have a couple of concerns, Art. Because you’ve been so excited about seeing Netta again, some things have come to mind. Like—do you know about sex?” His neck got redder.
“Yes,” Art said confidently. “Yes, I do, Luke.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Luke let out a breath he’d been holding for a long time. “Thank God for that. Who taught you about sex?”
“My mother,” he said. “Sex?” he asked. Then he made a check mark in the air with his finger. “Male!”
Luke dropped his head into his hand. “Aw, man,” he groaned. He lifted his head wearily. He saw Aiden drive in after another one of his hikes. They all waved and then Luke said, “Listen, we’re going to have to talk about some things before you visit with Netta. And I don’t know where to start.”
“Does she want me to visit with her? Ellen? And Netta?”
“Yes, Art. They’re happy about it. Ellen said that Netta’s asking about you. So it’s all good. Except for the parts I haven’t figured out yet.”
“What parts? I don’t know the answer to that.”
Luke patted his knee. “Let’s worry about one thing at a time, Art. One thing at a time.” And then he heard an engine, like that of a big city bus, and looked up to see a big, flashy RV coming down the driveway to the cabins. “Oh, man, I have never been so happy to see my mother. That’s Maureen and George, Art. They’re visiting in a brand-new RV. That should take your mind off things for a while.”
“What things?” Art asked.
“I rest my case,” Luke answered, standing up and waving them in. Good God, when she said motor home, he had been picturing one of those little fifth wheels! He opened the door and yelled into the house, “Shelby! Baby, you don’t want to miss this.”
Rosie came running from the river, Franci behind her. Shelby came out on the porch and Aiden stepped out of his cabin wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, rubbing a small towel over his hair and beard.
Luke had a three-bedroom house and six one-room efficiency cabins. Art had one cabin as his own, Aiden rented one, Franci, Rosie and Sean would use another for a couple of weeks and two others were rented to tourists. Since Shelby and Luke did not provide restaurant services and the real attraction of the place was the great outdoors, the tenants weren’t usually much in evidence. There was a couple in their sixties who were in Virgin River for bird-watching and a group of four college-age women who had planned a week of hiking.
With the gathering Riordans, it didn’t take long for the compound to take on a carnival atmosphere. As Shelby’s burden was still lowering and her walk was taking on that strain of a woman in late pregnancy, it was past time to put the nursery right. They already had a bassinet and small bureau in their bedroom for newborn needs, but Shelby’s uncle Walt and his lady friend, Muriel St. Claire, wanted to be involved in the painting, papering and decorating of the baby’s room. Of course, Maureen wouldn’t be left out of that. And Vanessa, Walt’s daughter and Shelby’s cousin, couldn’t stay away, either, and where Vanessa went these days, two small children followed.
Within a couple of days the place was teeming with Riordans and Booths. Right in the middle of all the action, Luke pulled Aiden aside. “I need your professional help, man.”
“Shelby okay?” Aiden asked reflexively.
“Fine, she’s just ready to explode. I need your help with Art. He’s all steamed up about visiting Netta, who he says he wants ‘to date with.’ I had a talk with him, Aiden—he doesn’t know anything about sex. Nada. Nothing.”
Aiden just grinned. “Maybe he doesn’t need to know anything.”
“We can’t take any chances. The last thing I need is Art getting some girl pregnant because he doesn’t know anything.”
“And you want me to…?”
“I don’t know. Talk to him. Take him to Fortuna to see his girl and talk to the girl’s caretaker or whoever that Ellen is she lives with. Make sure we’re on top of this.”
“You probably don’t have the worries you think you do,” Aiden said. “First of all, it’s very likely Art is just excited to be with an old friend. He actually lived in the same house with the woman for a long time and they’ve bonded. Sexual intercourse probably never occurred to him, but even if it did, chances are he’s infertile. It’s not uncommon for Down syndrome men to be infertile. Not always impotent, however.”
“She’s not Down’s, Aiden,” Luke said. “Can you help? Because I can’t get away from him long enough to go over to Fortuna and have a face-to-face with Ellen—Art always has me in his sights. Besides, look at Shelby. I should be close.”
“I’ll do this for you,” Aiden said. “But stop worrying about Shelby. You’re going to have plenty of time when she goes into labor. Maybe days.” He smiled. “It’s coming at you from all angles, isn’t it?”
“All angles. My mother is here with a boyfriend! My buddy Art is in love and doesn’t have a clue what that’s doing to his head and he depends on me to keep him safe. And my wife is about to explode!”
Aiden grinned. “Calls for a beer.”
“Don’t be funny, Aiden. How can I drink a beer when my wife is this pregnant and my helper is about to commit sex without his knowledge. Have you seen him lately?”
“Whew. We might want to slip a little Xanax in that beer,” Aiden said.
It was true that Art was very excited about seeing Netta. And he might even be in love. He was emotional and probably even hormonal about the whole thing, but as Aiden and Art chatted about the situation on the way to Fortuna, it was obvious that Netta was an important part of his past, his life, his experience, and he cared deeply about her. They liked the same television shows; they had worked together and helped each other and they both had lost their parents and were dependent on the state. Netta could read better than Art, but he wanted to teach her fishing. He also wanted to date her, but when Aiden explained that it would probably be best if they were just very good friends and spent time together regularly—watching TV, fishing and reading—Art accepted that so readily, it was probably what he thought dating was.
When Aiden arrived at the house where Netta lived, he introduced himself as Dr. Riordan, Luke’s visiting brother. He thought it might encourage Ellen and her husband, Bo, to open up a little bit, but they seemed not to need any encouragement. They had raised their three children, were grandparents and had three special-needs adult women in their care—all of whom helped in their bakery part-time, their skills varying greatly.
Iced tea was served on the patio while Art and Netta enjoyed being reunited and fled to the backyard, still within view. It didn’t take long to cut to the chase—Netta’s brain damage was pretty extensive, the result of an early-childhood near-drowning accident. She’d come a long way; walking and talking had taken years to accomplish. She was a very tenderhearted, calm twenty-seven-year-old who had the mental capacity of a ten-year-old, just about equal to Art’s. While both of them could identify a few words and most letters, neither could read very well.
The whole time Aiden visited with Ellen and Bo, Art and Netta were in the backyard, sitting on the edge of a sandbox for the grandkids, doing more staring at each other than talking.
“Your brother told me a little about how he came to be Art’s guardian,” Ellen said. “Of course, we got Netta when that group home was closed. It was a real difficult time for her—she lost her home, her job and her friends.”
“Art, on the other hand, ran away when he was battered,” Aiden said. “Luke found him digging through his trash. He had a big black eye.”
“That’s kind of unusual,” Ellen said. “I mean, for Art to run away like that—it’s enterprising. Wandering off or getting lost, that’s not uncommon. Has he been happy with Luke?”
“Very content, as far as the family can tell. Luke was single when he ran across Art, but he’s married now and expecting his first child soon. His wife, Shelby, and her whole family all love Art. But none of us has much experience with special needs or Down syndrome adults. Luke has some pretty obvious concerns—like when it comes to dating…”
“Sex?” Ellen asked. “Is that the concern?”
“Should it be?” Aiden asked.
“We’ll have to join forces to keep an eye on what’s happening with them,” she said. “If their relationship starts to look too serious, it might be enough to distract them. For now, being alert chaperones will probably do the trick. All of our women are on long-term birth control just for safety….”
“Because you’ve noticed some need? Sexual acting out, that sort of thing?”
Ellen shook her head. “No, Dr. Riordan—libido can be all over the map with special-needs adults—some seem to have a very active libido, sometimes masturbating or flirting or even trying to inappropriately touch a member of the opposite sex with no regard to boundaries. Our women really haven’t demonstrated any appreciable libido, but the birth control they’re on helps with that and with PMS. We also have to keep them safe from pregnancy by a predator. We do everything we can to keep them safe, but we can’t hide them from the world and the reality is, there are bad people out there who prey on the disadvantaged.”
Aiden didn’t often come up against things he was completely ignorant of—but this was one. His training prepared him to offer birth control for mentally challenged women who might have sex because they had no discretion, but this hadn’t been a concern in his military practice. Predators? “Has there been an issue with sexual abuse?” he asked.
“No history of that as far as we know and no symptoms that we noticed, but it’s a danger. Two of our women have Down’s and their vulnerability shows on their faces. Plus, they’re so trusting, so anxious to please. They so often will just do as they’re told. But isn’t Art…?”
“Infertile? My brother doesn’t know if he’s been tested. For that matter, Art doesn’t seem to know if he’s been tested. I haven’t seen any of the signs of sex drive that you mentioned, and he’s a very gentle soul.”
“You probably would have had hints by now, if he had a high-functioning libido,” Ellen said. “We belong to a support group for the parents and guardians of mentally challenged adults and one of our friends has a young man who masturbates quite a lot. It’s sometimes difficult to distract him. I think what we have here with Art and Netta is a perfectly nice friendship.”
“Maybe if we manage to arrange quality time for them, they’ll be very happy.”
“Mentally challenged adults fall in love all the time, Dr. Riordan,” Ellen reminded him. “As a couple, they often end up living with one of their parents, or together in the same group home. It can be complicated in some cases, and I know people who would go to great lengths to discourage relationships like theirs. But doesn’t everyone deserve to feel love and affection? No matter their disability? I see my primary job as keeping Netta safe and from getting in over her head. If what you say about Art is true, she’s interested in a very sweet and kind man.”
“Art is an angel,” Aiden said. “And he’s very functional. He’s been with Luke a couple of years now and hasn’t had a single problem. He loves working with Luke, loves fishing in the river, never wanders off. It’s been good for both of them.”
After two hours of chatting, they came up with a plan. Twice a week, when possible, Art could visit. If Luke could just call in advance, there would probably be times he could drop Art at either the bakery or the house to see Netta while Luke ran errands. If either Ellen or Bo was available to take Netta to Virgin River, she could spend a few hours at the river, learning to fish and visit with Art. They would have phone numbers for each other. That was a good place to start. Just a little reassurance that they wouldn’t lose each other in the system again might be an enormous comfort.
Art’s behavior on the way back to Virgin River seemed to reinforce that idea. He clutched the piece of paper with Netta’s phone number. Art had never spent any time on the phone, but just holding that number appeared to give him such confidence.
Aiden had a stop to make and Art was fine with that. Aiden drove straight up that road to Erin’s cabin. “Where’s this?” Art asked him.
“The person living here was trying to make a garden, so I helped,” Aiden said. “I just want to check it. Maybe water it.”
“Okay, Aiden.”
Erin’s car wasn’t parked at the cabin, so Aiden took a six-pack of beer out of the back and sat down on the deck to write a note.
Chill this. My whole family is in town and it’s a circus. See you soon. A
.
Then he went to look at the garden. Well, well—she’d been tending it. The soil was moist and the weeds were few. He went to the shed that was back against the trees, got out his tine cultivator and scrambled up the dirt a little bit. He bent to pull a few weeds, then dragged out the hose to spray it down. Art wandered around the backyard. “Don’t go in the forest, please,” Aiden yelled.
“I’m not,” Art yelled back.
Eventually, Art ended up in the hammock, still strung between the trees. He was swinging himself a little wildly and Aiden hoped it wouldn’t break loose. Art was not small!
“Hey,” a woman’s voice said. “I thought you’d given up on me.” She was smiling and holding the six-pack in one hand. “I tried to keep it going.”
“You did fine,” Aiden said. He stepped over the short fence. “I thought I’d leave some beer and maybe next week…”
“Sure,” Erin said. “Next week.” She looked beyond Aiden. “Friend of yours?”
“Yeah, that’s Art. Did I tell you my brother has some cabins on the river? Art’s a helper of his. We were just out running some errands and I thought I’d swing by and check the garden. You haven’t escaped back to the city yet?”
“Not yet. But I’ve discovered the best reason to work sixty hours a week is daytime TV.”
“Only sixty.” Aiden grinned. “Slacker.”
She grinned back. “I guess the navy works you 24/7.”
“Well, they do, but remember I told you my sister-in-law is very pregnant? Family is gathering. They tend to take up space and time.”
“What kind of family?” she asked.
He shrugged. “My mother—in her sixties—arrived in an RV with her seventy-year-old boyfriend. That’s hitting a nerve or two. One brother is due back from Iraq tomorrow, on leave, staying in the cabins with his family. My pregnant sister-in-law has a lot of family around here and they’re always available, if you get my drift.”
She had a kind of melancholy smile. “Sounds like fun, actually.”
“I guess so.” Art came up behind Aiden. “Oh, Art—this is Erin. Erin, this is Art.”
“How do you do?” she said, nodding.
“Thank you,” he answered, and they both laughed.
“I’m sorry, Erin, I have to get Art back. I’ll see you later. The garden looks good.”
“So do you,” she said quietly.
Art perked right up. “Maureen says he looks…he looks…ghost…gast…”
“Ghastly,” Aiden said by way of helping. “My mother put her hands on both sides of my face and said I looked ghastly. Horrible. Dangerous. So I guess you weren’t alone in that early opinion.” He turned and handed the long-handled tine to Art. “Would you mind putting this out in that shed?”
“Sure, Aiden.” And he trudged across the yard.
“He’s very sweet,” Erin said.