Forbidden Falls (Virgin River #9)(18)

“We could try starting with a firm warning,” Mel suggested.

“You can’t be serious,” Noah said. “You’d rent from a guy who’s a known molester?”

“Okay, let’s be totally straight here—is this just an idiot who gets stupid and cops a feel? Or has he left a trail of wounded victims in his path?” Ellie asked.

“So far as I know, he’s a laughingstock,” Mel said. “But there’s no guarantee that wouldn’t escalate. Luke Riordan has some cabins on the river—vacation rentals. Also one-room efficiencies with kitchenettes, but I’m sure they’re more expensive. And from what I hear, he’s done a brisk summer business—full or almost full all the time with early reservations for hunting season.”

“I’m on a tight budget,” Ellie said.

“No reason to be afraid of Nick,” Jack said. “I could take you down there and introduce you, threaten to sic my wife on him if he steps out of line.”

“I bet one knee in the nuts straightens him right out,” Ellie said.

There was a strange sound from Noah, something of a growl. “I don’t like this idea at all. If this guy got fresh with you, I’d have to deal with him. That wouldn’t be good.”

“Horsefeathers,” Ellie said. “I can take care of myself.”

This wouldn’t be the best time to bring up the fact that she was having a tough time doing exactly that—taking care of herself. And in almost exactly twenty-four hours Noah was already feeling the urge to deck the imbecile who would dare put a hand on her. It had been years since he’d been in a fight; it wasn’t nice for ministers to fight. He was supposed to counsel and pray his way out of tight spots.

One corner of his mouth lifted. Actually, he was competent in a fight. Didn’t bother him in the least to engage, as long as it was fair.

Noah looked over at Allie. She hadn’t completed her first day of work and already she was complicating his nice uncomplicated ministry.

Right at the end of the main street in Virgin River was a beautiful two-story home, freshly painted a pale yellow with white trim, just like three other houses on the block. But this one was large and pampered—it looked almost new. The porch was wide, the lawn was lush and green, summer flowers grew thick and healthy along the walk and tall trees shaded the house from the summer sun. It had white shutters and rocking chairs on the porch. The driveway went around the side of the house to a detached two-car garage. There was a staircase on the outside leading to the room upstairs.

Mel had called Jo Ellen, learned the room was available to the right person and had set up an appointment. Noah would not be left behind, and so it was that the three of them stood on the porch of the lovely house and rang the bell. Jo Ellen Fitch came to the door with a smile on her face, but the second she saw Ellie, she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Then she shot a pleading look at Mel, which Mel completely ignored. Even dressed in overalls, no makeup, and her hair pulled up, Ellie was a striking young woman. She had a beautiful face and a drop-dead-gorgeous body that she made no attempt to downplay.

“Hey, Jo,” Mel said. “This is Ellie Baldwin, who’s looking for a room. And this is Reverend Noah Kincaid. You might have heard about him—he’s the new minister, fixing up the old church. Ellie works for him and needs a place to live. So, what do you think? Want to show her the room?”

“Ohhhh, Mel,” she said miserably.

“You can make up your mind about me later, Mrs. Fitch,” Ellie said, taking charge. “First things first—let’s see if I like the room. How about that?”

“Sure,” she said a bit nervously. She opened her front door, keys to the room in hand, and began to lead them toward the garage. Then she stopped suddenly and turned. “Oh, I apologize. How do you do, Reverend Kincaid? Miss Baldwin. This way.” When they entered the room, Ellie went into a kind of daze. It was perfectly lovely—a double bed with two bedside tables against one wall, a small bathroom with a tub and shower, and on one wall a minirefrigerator, two-burner stove, microwave, sink and a few cupboards. At the foot of the bed was a chest. A comfortable chair and ottoman sat in the corner. There was no closet, but rather a large armoire for clothes. It was finer than anything Ellie had ever lived in. In her life.

“We don’t have a TV in here or anything,” Jo Ellen said.

The bed had a yellow floral comforter and lots of fat, decorative pillows. There was a picture of a meadow and barn over the bed, a full-length mirror on the bathroom door, a reading lamp behind the overstuffed chair. Ellie sighed. She fell in love with the room at once. “Does that phone work?” she asked.

“It does,” Jo said. “It’s a private line.”

There was the sound of a car in the driveway, followed by the slamming of the car door.

“Are there some plates and glasses?” Ellie asked. “A couple of pans?”

“Yes, some. Not much. And towels. This is kind of a one-person room.”

“What a coincidence.” Ellie laughed. “I’m exactly one person.”

“Nothing extra comes with the room,” Jo said. “No housekeeping. You’re on your own. There’s no washer or dryer. I mean, it’s not a bed-and-breakfast—you’d have to take care of all your own needs. Meals, laundry, that sort of thing.”