Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)(53)

“Enchanting? I don’t know about that.” He leaned on the bar. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I feel useful here. Needed. I’m appreciated for what I can contribute and people let me know that. In a lot of other places, I could disappear and barely be missed.”

“Aw, I can’t believe that.”

“Accurate or not, I know I’m counted on here.” He glanced down the bar to see a patron with his hand up, beckoning him. “Excuse me a minute.”

While he moved down the bar to serve a drink, she caught sight of Denny bringing food from the kitchen to a table full of people. Locals, she presumed, because they all laughed with him, joking around with him, and he was giving it right back, as if they’d all been friends forever.

That’s what Denny meant. He felt useful; he knew he was needed. Back in San Diego, he must never have been sure of that.

Because the bar was so busy, Denny wanted to help out until closing, despite the fact that both Jack and Preacher told him to take off, spend time with his girl. He took a fifteen-minute break to walk Becca home and make sure she got up those stairs safely. “I hope you don’t mind too much, I’m going to be another hour, maybe hour and a half. The guys told me to call it quits, but Paige is busy with the kids and I can help while you use the time to get ready for bed, call your mom or maybe read for a while.”

“Thanks. I don’t feel like sitting around a packed bar.”

“Whew, we hardly ever see it that busy. Maybe at the peak of hunting season. Or if we have a fire and the firefighters are passing through on their way in and out of the mountains. Jack takes real good care of those boys.”

“Takes care of them?”

“Anyone who looks after the needs of the town, he serves for free. That includes law enforcement, firefighters, doctors, et cetera. He says it keeps things in balance.”

“How?”

“It’s what he has to offer,” Denny said with a shrug. “And they give back what they have to offer.”

“To him? Like free law enforcement or fire-fighting? Because that comes out of taxes, right? We don’t actually get a bill.”

Denny laughed softly. “There was a big fire in these mountains a few years ago—it came real close to town. The bar is still standing. That would’ve been a big bill.” He pulled on one of her arms so they would stop walking. He slowly turned her around and they looked back down the street at the Christmas tree. The lights around the tree reflected under the black sky, while the star on top lit a path down the street. “Look at that thing,” he said. “Kind of amazing that a bunch of guys from town can make that whole thing happen.”

Becca noticed that in addition to the tree, the houses lining the street were decked out in their decorations, lights lining the eaves of houses, trees glittering in the living rooms behind picture windows, wreaths on doors, smoke curling from chimneys. This wasn’t a quaint Thomas Kincade village, that was for sure. Rather, it was an old town that had endured, a town whose character showed in its wrinkles and cracks. The homes were well used and some more well kept than others, but the street was wide, the trees tall and the dark mountains rose majestically beyond.

There was the roar of an engine and the jingling of bells that brought to mind Santa’s sleigh, and Denny quickly pulled her out of the way just in time for a tractor-drawn wagon to come around the corner and pass. It was covered in hay and loaded with laughing kids and a few adults.

“Hey, Denny!” someone yelled.

He raised a hand in return and watched them drive by. Then he turned Becca and walked beside her down the street.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“One of the local farmers. He’s got grandkids, so he’s always giving sleigh rides. Or I should say wagon rides.” When they got to the foot of the stairs, he lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way up. Once inside the efficiency, he gave her a kiss. “I won’t be too long. I won’t hang around the bar, that’s for sure.”

“Take your time,” she said, watching him leave.

The door closed behind him and she just stood there for a moment. Then, even though she had time for a leisurely bath and relaxation before he returned, she went to the phone and called her mother. “Mom, tell me the story of when you fell in love with Dad…”

Beverly fell in love with Alex Timm when she was twenty-one. She was at an Army-Navy game in Philly. She was a senior at George Washington University and it was a big game. Beverly’s dad had been Navy, so she was tied to that team and had driven from Virginia with a bunch of girlfriends.

“Your dad’s ship was dry-docked in Baltimore and he was at the game in uniform—those beautiful Navy whites. I know I shouldn’t tell this to my daughter, especially since I keep advising you to stop being so ridiculously romantic and use your head, but I think I fell in love with him the second I saw him. I was certainly down for the count when he and his friends took me and my girlfriends out after the game. I’d just never met anyone like him. He was…how can I put it? Gallant. Funny. Handsome. And on shore leave for a few weeks.”

“But you knew right away?”

“I thought I did,” she said. “But after a few weeks, he shipped out and we were separated on and off for the next two years. A long-distance relationship.”