Forbidden Falls (Virgin River #9)(61)

“Might want to put that off for a while, boy. Till you get settled down a little.”

There were certain things about one another that did not require further explanation. George didn’t ask Noah if he cared for her because Noah didn’t get involved with women who meant nothing to him. No need for Noah to explain that he was starting to care way too much and it worried him. From the hour of the call alone, George knew that.

“It’s probably just some good old-fashioned lust,” Noah said.

“Hmm, probably,” George agreed.

“Some of the best lust I can remember,” Noah said. “Christ above, this is all wrong.”

“We both know what’s wrong with it, son. Let’s take a second to talk about what’s right.”

“I can’t think of anything at the moment. Besides the lust, that is. And that she’s incredible. I never thought this would work—I thought it was a charity job, giving her the position to help her get her custody deal worked out. But I couldn’t ask for more. And she makes me laugh. She’s so sassy. And soft. Did I mention she’s soft?”

“Did you coerce her? Harass her? Emotionally blackmail her?” George asked.

“Of course not. I told her she could sue me.”

George chuckled. “Well, Noah, what a sweet-talker you are. No wonder the women are just falling at your feet.”

“She depends on me and the job.”

“Yes, you’ve explained. Is it likely she’s afraid that if she doesn’t yield, you or the job will vanish?”

Noah took a breath. “She is afraid of nothing. Even when she should be.”

“Noah, are you courting her?”

Dead silence hung in the air. And finally he said, “I’m fighting my libido, and for a while tonight it was winning. I don’t even know if I’m courting—it’s too new. I like her, of course. She intrigues me as much as she annoys me. I admire her, but I admit she’s strange to me. I’ve never known anyone like her. And of course she’s entirely the wrong kind of woman for me, in my circumstances.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Jesus hung out with Mary Magdalene. You don’t get more provocative than that.”

“Thanks a lot,” Noah grumbled.

“I’d better come up there. I was going to wait till you got rid of all the mouse shit, but I’d better come before you create some of your own.”

On Monday morning a couple of work crews descended on the church and got right to it. A few men on ladders and scaffolds were scraping old paint off the outside of the church; the sander was running over the sanctuary floor at the same time a man was working on replacing broken windows. In the basement, the concrete walls were being textured, and flooring was due to be delivered along with ceiling panels. There was a plumbing truck outside and Noah heard someone banging on the pipes, looking for leaks. Feeling as if he was just in the way, Noah left Ellie in charge of the phone and went to run errands.

First he went to the Goodwill and grabbed a few second- or third- or fourth-hand jackets and a handful of wool socks—fall was upon them and from what he heard, winter followed fall quickly. He wondered if his congregation, when he had one, would take on some of the needs in the town—castoffs to the poor, Thanksgiving and Christmas baskets, that sort of thing.

Next he went to the nursing home in Fortuna to watch TV with Sal. He hung around for about fifteen minutes of I Love Lucy and a little conversation. Sal was grumpy as ever but couldn’t disguise the way his eyes lit up when Noah stood in the doorway. Then Noah made a run by the hospital, visiting some young parents who had a seven-year-old in surgery.

He wasn’t all that anxious to get back to Virgin River, to the church. He was giving Ellie a wide berth because of the memorable, unforgettable way her lips tasted. If he closed his eyes he could recall it all in amazing detail. But he was very proud of his ability to act natural around her. Neither of them mentioned the kiss; neither of them behaved oddly. They had spent Saturday with the kids together and for all the world’s eyes, they were merely casual friends who worked together.

But he thought about her all the time.

Later that afternoon, after the hospital visit, he dropped in on Vanessa. He hadn’t called ahead or made an appointment, he just wanted to see how she was holding up. She came to the door with the sound of children yelling and crying at her back. There were dark rings under her eyes and she looked a little unkempt. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Great,” she said unenthusiastically. She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m trying to get dinner ready for Paul and those two decided to skip naps. It gets a little wild sometimes.”

Noah stepped inside. Both kids were reaching out of the playpen with tear-stained faces. “Have they been crying long?” he asked.

“Oh, on and off the past couple of hours. Both of them are really cranky and tired.” She just shook her head.

“Vanni, aren’t you getting enough sleep?” he asked.

She just shook her head. “They both sleep through the night. I go to bed with them—I seem to be sleeping a lot. Maybe that’s it—maybe I’m oversleeping because I just stay so tired.”

“What can I do? Hold a child, stir a pot?”

“Whatever,” she said, backing away so he could come in.