Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)(59)

He stroked her pretty blond hair. “You should be with kids. I’ve seen you with them. There’s no question that’s were you belong.”

“I will be, but if it takes a while to find a teaching job, I’ll just work somewhere else while I’m looking.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he said. “I wondered why you weren’t all jazzed about going home. Crap, once again it was me—just because I didn’t say the right things!”

“Or I didn’t ask the right things,” she said. “I have to be honest, I was afraid to ask. I didn’t want to cry when you told me you just couldn’t come with me.”

“Listen, you’re first, Becca. I’m going to teach you to trust me again somehow. Right now, just remember you’re first. What you need is the top of the list. Always.” Then he laughed. “That Jack, sometimes the guy is brilliant, you know? I was telling him tonight that I was leaving—saying goodbye, really—and I told him that I had kind of liked the idea of growing a family in a place as clean and safe as this. He told me to remember that the safest place to grow a family is in a happy marriage. I’m going to make you happy, Becca, because I love you. You’re what keeps my heart beating.”

“Denny,” she said, her eyes welling up with happy tears.

He rubbed a thumb under one eye. “You didn’t want to cry, remember?”

“Then don’t be so wonderful all the time.” She sniffed. “Now what?”

His eyes took on a naughty gleam. “Well, the plans are set. The schedule is set.” He started unbuttoning her pajama top. “I guess I’ll just have to work you out for a while. In fact,” he said, putting his big hands on her small butt, “if you just climb up on my lap, you wouldn’t be putting any weight on that ankle…”

Fourteen

The routine of having Denny get up in the early morning, make her coffee and leave her curled up under the down quilt while he went off to work was an easy thing to adjust to. When the phone rang beside her bed, she eyed the clock as she rolled over. It was eight-thirty. She was surprised she’d slept so late, as excited as she was to pack up to leave. She reached for the phone and said hello.

“Becca,” Jack said. “Are you awake?”

“Sure,” she said.

Jack laughed. “No, you weren’t. Have you looked outside yet?”

“Why?” she asked, sitting up in bed.

“We had heavy snowfall during the night. I’m going to come down there and clean off the steps and salt them. When you’re ready to leave the apartment, you have to call me. The street is under almost two feet of snow. So, it’s nonnegotiable—you could break your other leg and your neck.”

She thought about that for a second. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to drive down there in Preacher’s truck to pick you up—Denny took mine out to the farm. When you get up, you’ll see a mound in the driveway—that’s Denny’s little truck. I’ll drive you to the bar or wherever you want to go. And dress warm. We have more snow forecast.”

“Why is Denny in your truck?”

“That Nissan of his wasn’t gonna make it all the way out there, even with chains. We’re not a priority for plowing—we generally do our own.”

“When will you be down here?” she asked.

“Ten minutes. It’ll take me twenty to clean off and salt your steps. You can go back to sleep, if you want to—I just didn’t want the noise to scare you.”

“Thirty minutes gives me plenty of time to dress and be ready to leave. But take your time. I don’t want you to have to wait for me.”

As Jack carried Becca down the snow-crusted stairs a half-hour later, she saw the mound of snow that had been Denny’s truck. A lot was going to have to happen to transform that igloo into a moving vehicle.

In all her trips to ski slopes, Becca had never seen anything quite like this. Even in the heaviest of snowfall in the mountains, this was her first time in a tiny town that was buried by snow. People were shoveling and snowblowing their way out of the homes and driveways, standing on ladders to shovel and scrape some of the weight off roofs. Kids were throwing snowballs, building forts and snowmen. Dogs were rollicking in the snow. There was exactly one narrow lane plowed down the street—just enough room for a vehicle, one at a time.

Becca couldn’t suppress a brief fantasy about being completely snowed in with Denny. Not in their little room above the garage, but in a house with a fireplace and a nice, functional kitchen. She’d be more than happy to lose a few days that way….

Jack drove her to the bar. Rather than parking in the back as usual, he pulled through two feet of snow to take a narrow space in the front and left the truck running. Preacher, all bundled up, was shoveling off the stairs and a path to the street.

As Jack carried her past, Preacher said, “Help yourself in the kitchen, Becca. I’m going to be tied up awhile.”

“Thanks,” she said with a laugh.

When Jack put her down right inside the door, she found an unexpected flurry of activity there. There were canned goods, bags of nonperishables and miscellanea lined up on the bar and on tables. Mel and Paige stood behind the bar, sorting and creating piles. Their four kids were coloring at a table in front of the fire. Jack went immediately to a stack of unconstructed boxes and began to fold them into shape and tape them.