As far as she could tell, all the Virgin River stories, from hot romances to fights, deaths, despair and victories, were real. “And one of the most talked-about romances in town at the moment is between a certain very popular, accom
plished high-school senior and a West Point cadet,” Vanni said, lifting an eyebrow.
“No!” Brenda said in shock. “People talk about us?”
Everyone laughed that she could be so naive.
“Do they say anything bad?” she wanted to know, and they laughed harder.
Finally it was Muriel who said, “Of course not, Brenda. You’re the darling couple. Everyone roots for you to make it through West Point and college, staying together. You seem perfect for each other.”
“Really?” she asked, lifting her head, straightening her neck proudly. It was quite something at seventeen to be complimented by someone like Muriel St. Claire.
Although they were at it till quite late, through coffee and cheesecake, eventually the evening had to come to a close. Walt and Muriel insisted on doing the dishes together. “It’s what Muriel promised, since she’d donate a kidney before she’d actually consider cooking,” Walt said.
And once they were alone in the kitchen, he came up behind her at the sink and kissed her neck. “You handled that whole interrogation beautifully. Classic recon—evasion, resistance, escape. We could have used you in the army.”
She turned in his arms. “What I did for a living was much more dangerous. But I agree with you, I
am
good.”
“Then let’s get this kitchen cleaned up so I can follow you home, spend a little time away from the kids.”
“I can get into that idea,” she said, grinning.
At the other end of the house, Tom led Brenda out the front door, pulled her into his arms, making her giggle. He covered her lips in a passionate kiss and against them asked, “How does it feel to be the pretty half of the darling couple?”
“I can’t think about it,” she said. “It reminds me, we only have two more days together before you go.”
“Then we better get alone. How about that?”
“Hmm, please. The sooner the better.”
And in the family room, in front of the fireplace, Paul sat in a large leather chair with Vanessa on his lap. She ran her fingers around his ear and put little kisses on his temple. They could hear the general and Muriel laughing in the kitchen, the sound of Tom’s little truck firing up in the driveway as he took his girlfriend away. “How’s the countdown on the house?” she whispered.
“I’m working as fast as I can. I can’t wait until we have our own place.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “As soon as I get a little caught up on the building, let’s sneak up to Grants Pass and not tell anyone we’re there.”
She giggled. “Paul, all we have to do is park the baby with your mother. No one will bother us if she has her hands full of little Matt. We can do whatever we want.”
He growled and nuzzled her neck. “Is there any question in your mind about what I want?”
She sighed, snuggling closer.
Outside the great room on the deck, hearing the laughter in the kitchen, the engine of the little truck, the smooching in front of the fire, Shelby looked up at the cool, early-fall sky. She tried to imagine her mother’s face amidst the stars, the way she looked before she got sick—so energetic, so pretty and full of good humor and sass. As she so often did, she transported her thoughts to her mom.
I wish you could have been at the table with us tonight; it was so fun. Everyone was laughing, poking fun, telling jokes, gossiping. They were all so
loud.
And seeing Walt with a woman—it’s so different than the way he was with Aunt Peg. More playful. He’s happy, Mom, having fun like I never thought he could. And Muriel, for a famous person, she’s so silly, so funny. And you should see Vanni and Paul
together. There were times I worried so much about Vanni, after losing first her mom and then her young husband—I was afraid she’d never be truly happy again. Paul is such a blessing to her, to the whole family. And I know that Tom and Brenda think only about how difficult it’s going to be for them to be apart, but just the way they look at each other… Ahhhh, it reminds me a little of all those chick flicks we watched together. Man oh man, there’s so much love in the air around here. Really, I didn’t think this little town could hold so much life, so much romance. I’m so lucky to have this place, to be here with my family….
Sometimes, even with all these people around, I still miss you so much….
Sometimes I’m still so lonely….
Do you think my turn will ever come? I wonder that all the time.
Mel Sheridan had worked with Doc Mullins for over two years and in that time had married Jack and produced two children. The job hadn’t been easy, Doc being a cantankerous sort, but they had developed a close working relationship and a very special friendship. They didn’t agree on all that much, but they understood each other quite well. She was all about following the legal statutes to the letter while he was more concerned with being sure his people, his town, got by as well as they could, regardless of little things like laws. Getting down to it—Doc Mullins would risk anything to see his job was done, and done well.
Mel came to realize he’d probably delivered most of the town; at least everyone under forty. He’d been so much more than just a doctor here. He was the backbone of this town; their confessor, friend and healer. He didn’t have any other family. Virgin River was his family.
And Mel and Doc, while neither of them was the least sentimental, had come to love each other. There was a grudging mutual respect—he maintained he didn’t need some uppity nurse to get the job done, while she chided that he was so stubborn and difficult he could make those asshole surgical residents she’d worked with in Los Angeles look like a bunch of candy asses. It was true love.
He didn’t see her as a daughter nor did she see him as a father figure, but he did regard her children as one might grandchildren. He never said as much, but the twinkle in his eyes when he picked one of them up was enough. And it filled her heart with pride and affection.
Mel was at the clinic first thing in the morning, leaning up against the kitchen sink sipping a cup of coffee, when he limped into the room. “Morning,” he growled.
“Morning, sunshine,” she said with a grin. “How’s the arthritis today?”
“Worst day of my goddamn life.” He reached into the cupboard over the sink and grabbed a bottle of anti-inflammatory capsules, shaking a couple out.
“Worse than yesterday, which was the worst day of your goddamn life?” she asked.
He turned to look at her and lifted one white, bushy brow. “Yes,” he said, swallowing the pills without water.
“Hmm, sorry then,” she said. “Must be awful. Say, listen—I’ve worked out a couple of things with Shelby. She’s going to do some babysitting. She’s a godsend, really. Brie’s getting pretty pregnant and though she loves keeping the kids for me on Wednesdays, I think it’s a good idea to spell her, let her contemplate her uterus and her own bundle of joy. Plus, Shelby loves hanging around here. So we’ll let her help out here, watching kids, assisting in exams, learning the workings of a country clinic. She’d get
to see a side of medicine that’s not limited to caring for someone who’s terminal. She’s so anxious to pitch in. How’s that sound to you?”
“The babysitting will help you,” he said. “I don’t know if we’ll ever have enough work here to ask her to pitch in.”
“I know. But she has time on her hands. And nursing is different than caregiving. I realize it’s not the experience she’ll get when she’s finally in school, but it’s something. You can always loosen up and tell her stories of country doctoring—she’d love that. And when I have patients, I’ll have her with me. Plus, I enjoy her company. She’s sweet and sharp. I think of her as kind of a protégée. I’ve never had one of those before. I’ve always been one.” She grinned at him.
“Melinda, we’re going to bore her to death,” he said.
“You can always teach her to play gin. Maybe you can find a girl you can actually beat.”
“When I think about one more woman around here, it gives me heartburn,” he said.
“You shouldn’t be having so much heartburn, especially with your gallbladder gone. Maybe it’s acid reflux. Are you having pain?”
“Ach,” he said. “I’m seventy-two with arthritis. What do you think?”
She shrugged. “I think we should check it out.”
“Bah,” he scoffed. “I’m fine. I’m old, that’s all. I’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.”
She laughed at him. He hadn’t changed much in her two years there. He was using his cane a great deal more these days—the arthritis was wearing him down. He was an old seventy-two—his life had not been an easy one. He’d worked his way through college and medical school with no help from family and spent the next forty-five years caring for the needs of a town single-handedly, with only
the most rudimentary equipment, and with no liability insurance. When she had lifted her eyebrows at that, shocked, he merely shrugged and said, “We don’t sue each other here. At least not over medical aid.”
Doc had never married, had no children, and had told Mel there was no extended family. Mel had a great deal of affection for him, even if he did ruffle her feathers from time to time. He had, indeed, been ridden hard.
“If it’s acid reflux, they have some really good stuff for that now,” she said.
“I know this, Melinda. I’m a doctor.”
“And not just any doctor,” she said with a smile. “The biggest pain-in-the-ass doctor in three counties. Suit yourself.” And then she thought of something. “You know, you could ask Preacher to come up with some meals that don’t stir up that heartburn so much….”
“Why would I do that? He’s a dream in the kitchen.”
“Well, I’ve asked him for some low-fat meals. He was very agreeable, for Preacher. I’ve put on some weight since I got here.”
He lifted his glasses to his forehead and peered at her lower half. “Hmm,” he said.
“You did
not
just do that!”
“Did I say a word?” he asked, letting his glasses drop into place. She hmmphed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Quit complaining about your weight,” he said, rubbing a hand over his big belly. “At least you have the advantage of giving birth to most of yours.”
She lifted a mean little eyebrow. “You could give up that whiskey you have at the end of every day. That might help with the heartburn.”
“Melinda,” he said gravely, “I’d rather have needles in my eyes.”
I
t didn’t take Luke long to make enough adjustments so he could sleep in a real bed, in a real house, make use of a real shower. First, the exterminator plugged holes and placed traps. Luke did some serious clearing of trash and cleaning. Then there was a new mattress-and-box-spring set and a working refrigerator, both of which he could transport in his truck and move with a dolly. A couple of weeks made all the difference. But every day was long and dirty. His muscles ached. There was an endless amount of work to be done.
It wasn’t yet five when he was showered and headed for a beer and some of that excellent food at Jack’s. He’d only been there a minute, waiting for someone to come from the back to serve him, when Mel struggled into the bar, baby against her chest, toddler in hand, diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Right inside the door, the toddler took a tumble down onto his knees and sent up a wail. “Oh, punkin,” she said. She spied Luke and said, “Oh, Luke, here.” She thrust the baby into his hands so she could stoop to lift up the boy. “Oh, you’re okay,” she said, brushing off his knees. “Don’t cry now, you didn’t even break
the floor. It’s okay.” She was just about to stand, when she heard her husband’s voice.
“Mel,” he said.
She looked up from the floor. Jack was behind the bar. He inclined his head toward Luke with a smile on his face. Luke was holding the baby out in front of him at arm’s length, a startled expression on his face while Emma kicked her little legs and squirmed.
Mel burst out laughing, then covered her mouth. She rose and went to him, taking the baby. “I’m sorry, Luke,” she said. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve been around a man who didn’t know exactly what to do with a baby.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t have much experience with this.”
“It’s okay—my mistake.” She couldn’t help but laugh again. “The first day I met Jack, there was a newborn at the clinic and he scooped her up like an old pro.”
“Because I
was
an old pro, Mel,” Jack said, coming around to the front of the bar. “Four sisters, eight nieces and one on the way,” he told Luke.
“Prolific family,” Luke observed. “I don’t know much about babies.”
“If you’re looking to learn babies, this is the place,” Mel said. “I don’t think there are any virgins left in Virgin River. The birth rate around here is on the rise.”
“Me and babies—incompatible. And I like it that way.”
Jack crouched in front of the bar. “Come on, cowboy,” he said, holding out his big hands to David. “Come to Dad.”
“Da!” David cried, waving his chubby arms and toddling at high speed toward Jack.
Jack hoisted the boy up onto his hip and went back around the bar. “What’s your pleasure?” he asked Luke.
“Cold draft?”
“Gotcha,” he said, expertly drawing a beer one-handed. He put it on the bar. “How’s the house look?”
Luke picked up the beer, much happier holding that than a baby. “Like a train wreck. A complete disaster. I should probably have just put a match to it.” He took a long pull. “But, I have the trash out of the house and I’ve cleaned it up enough to sleep and shower in there. I’ve started clearing out the cabins. I’m going to have to ask Paul for some advice.”
“You may have already gathered Paul is a great guy to work with if you want to do a lot of it yourself. He can step in and get the things done that are outside your expertise. Wish I’d had him around when I was working on the bar.”
With precision timing, Paul came in for a beer, still dusty in his work clothes. Right behind him, old Doc Mullins limped in and joined the men at the bar, raising one finger to Jack to set him up a whiskey, and Jack immediately knew exactly what he wanted. A few neighbors arrived, taking tables. The bar had settled into a nice little family watering hole with everyone knowing their places, relaxing into an end-of-day libation before dinner.
Paul inquired about the house and cabins and Luke said, “I’m going to ask you to take a look, but first I have to finish clearing the trash out of the cabins. I got a Dumpster from Eureka and hired an exterminator. If you saw them now, you’d run for your life.”
“I don’t scare easy,” Paul said. “But you go for it. I’m ready when you are.”
Luke tried not to watch the door. He had told himself for two weeks he wasn’t coming here to see
her.
He came to Jack’s because the people and the atmosphere were just what he was looking for in a small, friendly country bar. The men were good-natured and helpful, the women impos
sibly beautiful. The fact that he kept imagining her in his mind atop that big horse, the braid standing out as she rode, well…that was just that guy thing. He couldn’t help it.
Jack leaned on the bar and said in a low voice, “Some of my boys are coming in a few weeks to catch a piece of hunting season.”
“Jack,” Mel said from across the room. “Not again!”
He ignored her while Paul chuckled. “She thinks we torture the deer,” Jack explained, his voice normal again. “She loves to see the boys, but hates that we hunt. Why don’t you buy yourself a deer tag and license. Join us.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Luke said.
“Luke, I had high hopes for you,” Mel shot across the room.
“Run by the bank and make a withdrawal,” Paul advised. “There will be poker.”
Luke grinned. “Deal me in.”
An old woman with muddy rubber boots, wiry white hair and big black-framed glasses came into the bar and jumped onto a stool beside Doc. Jack said, “Luke, meet Hope McCrea, town busybody.”
“Mrs. McCrea,” he said politely.
“Another jarhead?” she asked Jack.
“No, Hope. We’re letting some army in here, as long as there aren’t too many of them.”
“You do anything special?” she asked him point-blank.
“Special?” Luke returned, tilting his head.
“I’m looking for a teacher and a preacher for the town,” she answered. “Bad hours, low pay.” She lifted her finger to Jack, who set up her drink. “Dream jobs.”
He laughed at her. “I sure can’t fill either of those slots.”
Then she came in. The girl. Luke gulped. He felt a shimmer all the way to his knees. She wore her hair unbound
and he saw that it was full and springy, something a man could get his hands all tangled up in. He had a mental image of his large hands on her slim hips. She had a fresh face. Except for something shiny on her lips, she appeared to wear no makeup, but she didn’t need any. When she saw him, she lowered her lashes briefly, but smiled. Demure. Vulnerable and in need of a strong man. Oh, crap.
Then stepping into the bar right behind Shelby was a tall, broad-shouldered, silver-haired man of about sixty. Not exactly Daddy, but close enough. It hit Luke in the pit of his stomach. He came instantly to his feet—force of habit. He knew a general when he saw one—in or out of uniform.
With one hand on Shelby’s shoulder, Walt extended the other toward Luke. “This must be the new guy. Walt Booth. How you doing, son?”
“Sir,” Luke said, taking the hand. “Luke Riordan. Pleasure to meet you.”
“At ease,” he said with a quick smile. “Welcome. Jack, how about a beer?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, fixing one right up.
Shelby gently tugged Paul out of the way so she could have the stool next to Luke, causing Paul to lift his eyebrows curiously. But Luke wasn’t sitting. At least not until the general did. He hadn’t been out of the army quite long enough to relax about things like rank. He did glance at her, however, and she smiled at him, her eyes glittering slightly, maybe enjoying his obvious tension around her uncle. What he noticed was how rich and sultry her hazel eyes were. And he thought, oh God, I have to get beyond this. There were fifty things about the stirring he felt every time he saw her that were all wrong. He didn’t get into things like protective, high-ranking uncles and innocent young women who were clearly looking for true love.
Luke didn’t fall in love. He’d been in love once, when he was much, much younger, and it had left a hole in his heart big enough to drive a tank through. The experience left him a man who couldn’t form attachments; he was a dabbler, a player, not the kind of man who settled down. He never stayed in one place, nor with one woman for long.
This young Shelby was so transparent, she left little doubt as to what she wanted. Needed. She’d like to wrap her emotions around a man and tether him right up against her heart, breaking him in half. Then, in making his getaway, he’d hurt her bad. Annihilate her. Leave her young, tender heart in shreds and spoil everything for the guy who might come along later to do right by her.
The general finally sat and made army small talk. They went over their various commands and combat tours, and all the while he spoke with the general, he could smell Shelby’s sweet fragrance. It was swirling around his head, confusing him, addling his mind.
When Walt finally turned his attention to Doc and Hope, Luke felt Shelby’s breath soft on his cheek as she leaned toward him and asked, “Have you made much progress on the house and cabins?”
He wanted to be hardened toward her, oblivious to her, even cruel and indifferent would work, but when he turned to look at her, his eyes warmed because she melted him into soup. “As much as possible. I have a place to live that’s not on wheels. It’s going to be a bigger job than I thought. What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been helping Mel with the kids while she works, sometimes helping her with patients. I ride, babysit Vanni and Paul’s little one, keep an eye on Uncle Walt… Hardly anything, really. I should come over and help you haul trash.”
“You shouldn’t,” he said. “It’s miserable work. Way too dirty for you.”
“I could just watch,” she said, and smiled so prettily that his heart almost fell out of his chest.
“If you do that, Shelby, I won’t get anything done. You’re a distraction.”
She looked completely surprised. “How nice of you to say that,” she said. She briefly covered his hand atop the bar with hers, and a sizzle shot through him at her merest touch. Damn, he thought, I’m in serious trouble. He wasn’t sure what he feared most: never having more of her or repercussions from the general if he ever did. “Isn’t this the greatest place?” she asked him.
“Virgin River?”
“Sure, that. But Jack’s. This little piece of town. I love dropping in here and always seeing a friendly face.”
“I’ve been here a few times over the past couple of weeks and haven’t seen your friendly face,” he said, then silently cursed himself. Don’t push this, he warned himself.
“Oh,” she said, laughing. “My cousin Tom was home on leave. We came in a couple of times, but mostly it was all about family. Quite a crowd at my uncle’s, with all of us and then Tom and his girlfriend. He’s gone to West Point now, so I imagine I’ll be around more often.”
“And you like Jack’s,” he observed.
“I grew up in a small town on the coast—way bigger than this, but still cozy. There was this old dive called the Sea Shack—nets and shells on the walls, lots of locals, but also bikers and tourists. You could always count on some of the same people being there. You never had to worry that you’d be alone.”
“Where?” he asked her.
“Bodega Bay, south of here. While this is all redwoods,
deer and bear, Bodega Bay is ocean, fishing boats, some rocky cliffs above the sea, whales and dolphins.”
He leaned his head on his hand, being hypnotized slowly. Thoroughly. He imagined her on the beach; the bathing suit would be very, very small. “It sounds great,” he said. “Is that home for you?”
“Not anymore,” she said. “My mother passed away last spring, left me the house and I sold it.”
He was momentarily surprised. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Thank you. So, I won’t be staying in Virgin River—I’m going to college, finally. This is just a vacation. While I’m hanging out here, I’m also applying to schools.”
“How long is this vacation?” he asked in spite of himself.
“A few months, probably. After the first of the year, I plan to take a couple trips—I’m surfing the Net, looking at package deals. Then decide on the college and go find an apartment, get a part-time job, take some classes to get back into the rhythm. But I’m hanging around to see Tom again. He’ll have leave over the holidays.”
Walt interrupted them by getting Luke’s attention. “What’s this Jack says? You have a brother in Black Hawks, too? Is the whole family crazy?”
Luke turned toward the general and hoped it didn’t show in his eyes that he was over the edge in lust. “Lighten up, sir,” he said. “At least it’s not tanks.”
“Boy, I happen to like tanks.”
When Luke left the bar, he drove straight to Garberville, when what he really wanted was sleep. His body was bone tired, but his brain was working overtime. And there was one part of his anatomy that was a little too alert for its own good. He hadn’t had a reaction like this in a long, long time and coincidentally, the last time had also been from a
general’s daughter. It was years ago, and he’d been unusually smart—he walked away and never looked back. She had been a prison sentence waiting to happen.
He was trying to drive the thoughts of that sweet young thing from his mind; he’d like to stop the hot little darts from shooting through his body.
He had no trouble finding the local bar—a little hole in the wall that actually made him feel overdressed and totally military with his close-cropped hair and pressed shirt. There were a lot of men in plaid or chambray shirts, long hair, ponytails, mustaches and beards. It looked packed; plenty of cars and big trucks parked around outside.
The place was full at nine o’clock. He made his way inside, finding a stool at a very crowded bar in a noisy room. He ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer. Time to settle everything down and stop thinking about the girl. By the time he’d left Jack’s he had started having visions of putting his hands on her and being shot by her uncle.
He threw back the shot and nursed the beer. Good move, Riordan, he lectured himself. Move to a new little town where the same dozen or so people meet at the same little watering hole a couple of nights a week and within twenty-four hours get the instant hots for the one woman to be avoided at all costs. But lust was a beast in him and he was impossibly attracted to her.