Angel's Peak (Virgin River #10)(56)

Noah grabbed her suddenly and pulled her against him. “Ellie,” he whispered, burying his face in her neck. “I didn’t realize how much I hoped you’d see the potential in this old thing. It’s a horrible mess—no woman in her right mind would—”

She laughed and sniffed at the same time. “Lucky for you, you got a woman with no right mind. Noah, be honest now, are there things you like about this old house besides the price?”

“The same things you like,” he said. “The big rooms, the big yard, the wide porches, the real wood. I can get Paul Haggerty to check it out for structural competence and the other stuff before we get emotionally moved in. We can try to sell the RV—that’ll give us some fix-up money.”

“Noah, I want to work on it. Really—I’m good at this stuff. It might take a while if I’m needed at the church and helping the kids with all their school stuff, but I know how to make something good out of a falling down piece of—” She stopped herself and smiled. She’d been trying to stop cursing in deference to her fiancé the preacher. So she whispered, “Really is a piece of shit, isn’t she?”

He laughed loudly. “Totally,” he agreed. “But she has so much promise.”

“All kinds of promise.”

“Ellie, I’ve been wanting to ask a question. It’s not a real big issue with me, but I still should ask. You can say no and it won’t make a difference, but just in case—”

“For God’s sake, Noah! Spit it out.”

He took a breath. “How do you feel about more children?”

“Why?” she asked.

He struggled for a moment. “Well…because if you wanted more…I could be talked into it…”

She punched him in the stomach. “Never lie to me like that. Do you want a baby of your own, Noah?”

“I’m nuts about Trevor and Danielle and I want to adopt them if we can work that out, and I think we can, but, yeah—if I could have one with my receding hairline and bowed legs—”

She laughed and ran her fingers into his overlong, curly dark hair. There was a strand or two of silver; Noah was thirty-five. “Oh, what I’d give to have a little girl with your dark curls,” she said. “And your legs are better than mine.”

“No one’s legs are better than yours,” he said. “Did you ever think about another one?”

“I’ll think about that. Not right away, Noah. I have house problems and adoption problems to deal with first.”

“Not to mention a wedding. Ellie, we need to get married. I just can’t keep sneaking into your room…”

“Afraid God disapproves?” she teased.

“I’m pretty sure God masterminded it, frankly. But I’m uncomfortable with the whole subterfuge. I want us settled in, no matter where we spend our nights. We gotta get this done, baby. Let’s get a move on.”

“Sure. Fine. But maybe I should be the one to negotiate with the seller here, huh? You lean toward the nice side.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked.

“In church and school and bowling,” she said. She gave him a peck on the lips. “Not in politics or real estate.”

He smiled at her. “Sometimes you really turn me on.”

The only thing that surprised Sean more than how easily it had been to fall into a routine with Rosie was how readily she had seemed to take to him. The other thing that shocked him was how much he looked forward to spending time with her.

On Sunday at noon he dropped Maureen at Viv’s house only to find Rosie had already gone down the block to her own house. Once there, he found Franci lying on her couch. She wore a loose and comfy sweat suit and looked fresh from the shower.

“Long night?” he asked her.

“I thought we were going to get off easy,” she said. “It was real quiet. Then we had one run after another until eight this morning. I’m really going to need a nap.”

“You got it. I’ll take Rosie to the park and on some errands, and when we get back here we’ll be real quiet. You want me to wake you at any special time?”

“I’ll get myself up. Sure you don’t mind making dinner?”

“Not at all—it’s gotta be my turn.” He smiled at her. “Where’s the tyke?”

“Cooking,” she said, inclining her head toward Rosie’s bedroom. “Maybe she’ll help with dinner.”

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he said with a laugh.

Just then, they heard a brief shuffle down the hall, the clicking of plastic high heels, the rustle of a princess dress, a soft gasp and then Rosie ran toward him, her little feet clapping along the floor. She yelled, “Daddy!” and threw herself into Sean’s arms.

Franci and Sean both looked at each other, shock evident on their faces. Seven days and it was done—he was Daddy. He was too stunned to even allow himself the pleasure that title could bring, and he could see from Franci’s face the chasm had been crossed and there was no going back. Everyone was assigned their roles and dare not shirk from them.

It was at once the most complicated yet simplest transition imaginable. The problem was that Sean and Franci had not yet negotiated their unified lifestyle or defined their positions. They were still nibbling around the edges of what kind of relationship they were going to have. Oh, Sean had suggested marriage right away, the moment he realized they had a child together, but that really wouldn’t win him any points. He’d done so only because of Rosie; if not for Rosie, he would have suggested he and Franci resume their old relationship, with marriage possible down the line, whereas four years ago he hadn’t been willing to consider it. As progress went, it was slight.