A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River #4)(32)

Mel got busy. While she was giving Marcie a once-over, she said, “I think you should tell Ian you have to make a phone call. Talk to your sister yourself.”

“I can drive. I’ll just go into—”

“You have snow tires or chains?”

“Well—no, but—”

“Ohhhh, Marcie. That little VW of yours would slip right off the mountain real easy. We’ve had snow up here since you arrived, and a bit lower, some rain. You just don’t have the weight or traction. Until we dry up a little, get a lift into town in something heavy—like that big, old truck of Ian’s. Or, you can tell me when you’d like a trip to town and I’ll come and get you—but, believe me, it’s a crazy notion to drive that VW into town. It could be disastrous. Besides, it appears to be buried…”

“Okay, sure. Maybe I’ll talk to him about that in the next day or two…”

“You’re definitely on the mend, my girl. I don’t think you’re contagious. We’ll keep an eye on the cough, and you take that expectorant Doc gave you. But your chest sounds good and I’m afraid it’s not that unusual for the cough to hang on. Your throat is still a little irritated and your lungs want to clean themselves of drainage.”

“Listen—was there a bill? For coming out here? For medicine?”

“Taken care of,” Mel said, packing up her stuff.

“Ian?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I think it might’ve been a case of pride. Why don’t you come to town for a few hours—it’ll help you from going stir crazy. The bar’s open from early morning till nine or ten at night. People are in and out all day. You can use the phone there or the one at the clinic.”

“Ah. Not a bad idea. Mel? The tree? The Christmas tree in town? Is it done now?”

“Almost done. There’s a little left to do. It’s awful big, you know. It’s beautiful,” she said, beaming. “And don’t tell Jack, but I got a ride in a cherry picker while he was away, running errands. It was so cool.”

Marcie waited until dinner to broach the subject of going into town. She wanted to time it perfectly—not too early in their meal, but not at the last spoonful when he could get up with his empty plate and turn his back on her. Halfway through dinner she asked, “Is Virgin River out of your way when you go to sell wood?”

He looked up from his plate, meeting her eyes quizzically, lifting his good eyebrow. “Why?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d like a ride into town. I should call my sister. I had that nurse, Mel, call her and tell her I was here with you and there was no phone, and that I’d call her myself when I got to town. I should do that, so she doesn’t worry.”

“This would be the sister who thinks you’re reckless and crazy?” he asked.

She smiled at him. “The same.”

He leaned against the back of his chair, leaving his spoon to rest on his plate of stew over rice. “If you’re feeling better, you should think about going home. You found me, you told me what you wanted to tell me.”

She chewed her lip for a minute. Then she lifted her bright green eyes to his face. “Ian, I need your help here. I’m not saying this so you feel sorry for me—it’s not necessary. But I was losing Bobby for a long time and I really thought that by the time he passed, I’d be ready for the next stage in my life. For three years I wondered what I’d do when he was gone. I thought about the possibilities—school, travel, maybe dating. Have my mornings and evenings free for…For whatever. But it’s not working for me. He’s been gone a year and I’m totally stuck. I don’t want to do any of the things I considered. I can’t seem to move on, and it’s not just grief. It’s like there’s unfinished business. Being here with you—it’s the right thing—”

“You’re still here because you were sick!” he said in a very annoyed tone.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been too sick to appreciate getting to know you again. It’s like getting reacquainted. It feels like it’s helping.”

“Reacquainted? What are you talking about?”

She looked down. “I knew you. Not like Bobby did—but in his letters he talked about you, and then we had a few letters, you and me. I felt like we knew each other. Like we were friends. You’re the link—”

The palms of his hands came down on the tabletop hard enough to make her jump. “But I don’t want to go over all that!”

“I know!” she shouted back at him. “Jesus, have I asked you to do that? You can be so damned obstinate sometimes! How the hell did you get by all this time without having anyone to fight with, huh? I know you have issues—but do you suppose you could think of someone besides yourself for five seconds? We talk and it’s helping me put some stuff in perspective. If you want me to go, I’ll go. But if you’ll just let me stay a little while, till I feel—Shit.” She ran a hand through her wild, fiery tresses. “Till I don’t know when! Till I feel this part of my unfinished business is finished. I’ll be glad to buy the food or help with chores or whatever—I just can’t drive into town to call my sister because the bug doesn’t have chains or snow tires.” She took a breath. She swallowed. “That’s all I have to say.”