Angel's Peak (Virgin River #10)(5)

She finally parked in her little one-and-a-half-car garage, pulled down the door and walked into the house and through the kitchen. She could hear the TV in the living room and there she found her mother, sleeping while sitting up, and her daughter, Rosie, curled up on the couch beside her. The only one who looked up when she walked into the room was Harry, their blond-and-white cocker spaniel.

“Hi, Harry,” she said.

He wagged a couple of times and rolled over on his back, just in case anyone wanted to rub his belly.

“Mom?” she said, giving her mother a little jostle. “Mom? I’m home.”

Vivian stirred and straightened. “Hm, hi. I must have dozed off.” She stretched. “Did you have fun?”

“Sure. Those girls are always fun. I’ll catch you up on the gossip tomorrow after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

Vivian stood. “Let me put Rosie—”

“I’ll take her to bed, Mom,” Franci said. “Tucking her in is the best part of the day. How long has she been asleep?”

“She probably stayed awake longer than I did,” Vivian said with a laugh. She gave Franci a pat on one cheek and a kiss on the other. “Day off tomorrow. Call when you’re up. We’ll have coffee or something.”

“Sure. Thanks, Mom.” Franci grabbed Vivian’s coat from the back of the chair and helped her slip it on. “I’ll watch you walk home,” Franci said.

“I’m sure I won’t fall in the street. Or get mugged.”

“I’ll watch you just the same.”

Franci, Vivian and Rosie had lived together in this little two-bedroom house for a couple of years, Franci sharing her bed with Rosie. About a year ago Vivian had purchased a similar house at the end of the block. They’d always planned to have their own residences, both of them being independent, single women, but Rosie’s arrival was the impetus for them to remain close enough so they could join forces to take care of her. When Franci worked those twenty-four-hour shifts, or went out on that rare late-night date, Rosie spent the night at Grandma’s. If it wasn’t going to be a late night or an overnight for Franci, Grandma came to Rosie’s house so Rosie could fall asleep in her own bed. Now that Rosie was in preschool and day care, both her mother and grandmother could easily juggle child care and manage their jobs.

Franci watched her mom walk down the street and up the flower-lined walk that led to her own door. Once Vivian was inside, she flashed her porch light a few times to signal that she was all right, then Franci went in and closed her own front door.

Franci hung up her coat, scooped her redheaded daughter off the couch and carried her to bed. Her arms flopped; she was out cold. Her comforter was turned down and her bedside lamp glowed. Grandma had clearly been optimistic that Rosie would slip right into bed when it was time, rather than fall asleep on the couch, as she preferred. Franci tucked her daughter in, pressed the comforter around her and kissed her forehead. Rosie let out a sleepy snort.

“I saw your daddy tonight,” Franci whispered. “There’s a reason you’re so beautiful.”

Two

Sean hadn’t slept real well after seeing his old flame, so he beat the morning rush in the bathroom before there was so much as a sound from the bridal suite. He was halfway through his Wheaties when Shelby came into the kitchen in her jeans and sweater, ready to head over to Arcata to school. She was studying nursing at Humboldt U.

“Well, well. It’s rare to see you before I get home in the afternoon,” she remarked, going for the coffee. “When you’ve been out prowling till the wee hours, you usually need your beauty sleep.”

Sean grunted.

“I guess that was ‘good morning,’” she said. “And same to you.”

Luke came into the kitchen next. “Well, hey there, sunshine,” he said to his brother. Sean lifted his eyes but not his head. Luke laughed at the grim expression. “Lumpy mattress? Did we put out the scratchy toilet paper?”

“Bed’s fine.”

“You want to grab a couple of the general’s horses and ride along the—”

“I’m going to be tied up. I have some errands,” Sean said.

Shelby lifted a stack of thank-you notes from the table and gave her husband a glare. They’d been married a couple of weeks and he was supposed to be adding his gratitude and signature to the notes she’d all but completed. “Luke…” she began. “Before you think about riding or fishing—”

“I know, I know,” he said, glancing at the notes. “It’ll get done.”

“You really think he’s going to do that girlie shit, Shelby?” Sean asked.

Shelby sat down at the table, confusion knitting her brow. She’d known Sean for about a year; he was the playful brother—the flirt and the comedian. They used to joke that Sean would have fun at a train wreck; his mood was perpetually upbeat. Luke had been the grump, but she’d softened him up. This crankiness from Sean was so unexpected. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Fine,” he answered shortly.

Luke poured himself a coffee and sat down. “Fender bender? Speeding ticket? Pretty girl reject you? Food poisoning?”

Sean sat back in his chair. “I ran into Franci last night,” he grumbled. “Pure chance.”