Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)(49)

“I can’t wait,” she said. And the next thing she knew, the gardenmobile jerked into motion and Denny was driving her past a huge garden, through the trees and to more gardens and greenhouses that were warmed by smudge pots.

Becca was fascinated by the farm, by all that Denny knew about these fancy crops and the business of growing and marketing them. She was intrigued by the proud light in his eyes as he described their products and even showed her pictures of their rare fruits and vegetables. He was so at home with his fingers in the soft, dark soil, pulling out a delicate seedling for her to see. After they’d toured the greenhouses and grounds, he brought her back to the house. He stopped short of the porch and said, “Wait till you see this place in spring and summer. That entire wall of shrubs that’s covered with snow—all flowers. There are a dozen apple trees along the front drive and a line of blackberry bushes dividing the front and back gardens. The bees around here get a little thick, but they’re friendly. We’re thinking of getting into honey—good money in honey!” Becca thought, Spring? Summer?

And then she thought, He’s so proud of this!

“Show me the house,” she said.

He parked and lifted her out of the gardenmobile. He carried her into the kitchen and found her a chair, then went back for her crutches.

Jillian came out of a room off the kitchen with a laptop in her hands. “I thought you might like to see pictures Colin took of the grounds during summer. He had shots of some of our crop that I used for brochures.” She put the laptop down in front of Becca and let her flip through the digital pictures.

“Gorgeous,” she said of staged photos of bushels of tomatillo, tiny beets, peppers, tomatoes and brussels sprouts. There was a cart piled high with pumpkins, pictures of the grounds alive with flowers, even pictures of jars of relishes and sauces with their Jilly Farms label on them.

“This is some operation,” she said.

“It’s a commercial farm and processed food line,” Jillian said proudly.

“Impressive,” she said.

“I wish you weren’t on crutches,” Jillian said. “Colin’s brother and wife and my sister and her husband are coming over later—we’re going to cut down our Christmas trees. We’ve already picked them out—we have enough fir and pine still on the property to thin out to make room for gardens.”

“She’s not missing out, Jillian—we took her with to find the town tree.”

“I’m sorry I missed that,” she said. “Are you going to take her around the rest of the house, Denny?”

“Yep,” he said. Denny leaned the crutches against the wall and urged Becca up so he could piggyback her around the house and up the stairs. It was three stories, a spacious eleven-room house with high ceilings, five bedrooms, a huge sun-room that Colin used for his studio on one end and their family room with a TV on the other end. The only part of the house that Denny didn’t think safe enough to carry her up to was the rooftop. “We can see all the gardens and greenhouses and over the treetops to neighboring farms and vineyards. When you’re healed, I’ll show you.”

There it was again—a comment that sounded like they had a future in Virgin River.

“This house is wonderful. I wonder what it must be like to live in a house like this.”

“One of the reasons I’ve been so long in Jo’s efficiency is because it’s practically free and I’ve been saving money for a house. A nice house. I have a little money from the sale of my mom’s home, plus what I’ve earned. Jillian keeps increasing my pay, I have full benefits from her and she gave me a bonus at the end of last summer. Then I’ve been working at Jack’s….”

“What are your hours at Jack’s?” she asked. “It’s kind of hard to tell.”

He laughed as he piggybacked her to the kitchen. He put her on one of the kitchen chairs and propped her foot. “It’s hard to tell because they’re real irregular. I started helping out and refused to take his money. He gave me free room and board for a long time right after I got here—I have a lot to pay off. But it rankled him—he’s proud. He’s also generous. The only freebies he likes are the ones he gives. So he opened a savings account and put money in it. I’d usually just step up if I was there for dinner and the place got real busy, but then he had to call me to help a few times and he told me he’d been paying me all along whether I liked it or not, so I quit arguing. Besides, I’ve been saving for that house.”

She thought of the way his arms felt around her, how it felt to have him say he loved her and she held her tongue. “What kind of a house do you think about, Denny?”

“There are lots of houses on big plots around here. But there’s also the houses Paul Haggerty builds. I’ll take you out to Jack and Mel’s one of these days—they have an awesome house on a few acres, and from his front porch you can see forever. He helped build it. That kept the cost down. I’d like to do that—help build my house.” He laughed. “I guess the answer is, I don’t know. I haven’t gotten serious about it yet. But you make me want to get serious.”

Twelve

The homework club grew to seven kids, about three of whom could have led the class. Danielle, Christopher and Juliet were all ahead of their age groups. But Megan, Maron, Mary and Zoe needed a little extra help. Coincidentally, Megan and Maron were both in the same third-grade class and had the very same issues—very little encouragement, a lot of negative reinforcement, low self-esteem and little confidence.