Forbidden Falls (Virgin River #9)(81)

Vanni shook out a onesie and folded it. “You’re pretty amazing,” Vanni said. “And I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

“I’m just having one of those emotional days,” she said. “I don’t have them too often, thank God.” But she’d been threatened by her husband, loved by her man, encouraged by her lawyer, depended on by a good friend. And it wasn’t even noon.

By September in the mountains, the weather was beginning to cool. Fishing was good, hunting was around the corner and the bar was pretty full at dinnertime. Jack greeted a man he’d never seen before. He gave the bar a wipe and said, “Welcome. How you doing?”

“Great, thanks. Nice place you got here.”

“We’re proud of it,” Jack said. “Passing through?”

“More or less. How about a cola? That too much trouble?”

“Not at all, my friend. I’m Jack.”

“And I’m Arnold. Pleased to meet you.”

While Jack served up a cola, he noticed that Arnold took a slow look around the bar, taking it in. There were a few couples in the place, three senior ladies occupied one spot near the window, and a couple of tables were pushed together to accommodate Mel, Brie, Paige and the small children, with Mike Valenzuela, Brie’s husband the town cop, sitting at the end. Some fishermen played cribbage and shared a pitcher at one end of the bar and at the other end, a solitary man nursed a drink. Arnold was almost turned around on his stool when Walt Booth and Muriel St. Claire came in. Walt, a powerful-looking man with silver hair and black eyebrows, came up to the bar next to Arnold while Muriel wandered over to the table of women. Patrons greeted them both. “Hey, Walt! Hi, Muriel!”

Arnold turned his attention back to the front of the bar and Jack saw him smile. Arnold picked up his cola.

Jack looked at Walt. “Beer, General?”

“Thanks. And a Chardonnay for Muriel. And a takeout from the kitchen, but no hurry on that. When you have a minute.”

“You got it,” Jack said. And then he was busy at the other end of the bar, producing another pitcher.

Jack noticed Hope McCrea as she came into the bar wearing her standard uniform of big clown glasses, muddy rubber boots and what looked like a trench coat that had seen better days. She sat beside Walt and tapped the counter for her whiskey. Right behind her, Dan Brady arrived wearing his Shady Brady.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Brady,” Hope said.

“I’ve been working on that old house night and day, trying to get it right so it can be sold.”

“Oh, yeah? And then what?”

“I’ll find another place,” he said with a shrug. “General,” Dan greeted, leaning around Hope. “How’re things?”

“Never better, son. Thanks for asking.”

Jack made a quick trip to the kitchen to put in the general’s order and was back at the bar quickly. “How you doing, Hope?” he said as he served up the old woman’s whiskey. And, “Brady? You avoiding me?”

The man said, “A little bit of you goes a long way.” Jack laughed at him.

Then Jack asked Arnold, “Can I interest you in some dinner? Some outstanding corned beef and cabbage tonight with boiled potatoes and apple pie. The apple crop has been great this year.”

“That might be nice, thanks. I’ll think about it a minute. And what do you know about the church next door?”

“Been boarded up for years,” Jack told him. “But we got us a new pastor and he’s fixing up the church. Presbyterian. Should be open for business in another month or so. It’s been a long time since we’ve had church in this town. Way before my time, that’s for sure.”

“Ah. Pastor’s name?” Arnold asked.

“Noah Kincaid. You from around here?”

“Not so far away. Thing is, I’m sure that’s the church where my wife took a job.”

Everyone at the bar seemed to go silent at once. Then finally Jack asked, “Wife?”

“Ellie. Have you seen her around?”

Jack knew only two things about Ellie. She seemed like a nice, genuine girl. And he knew she had difficult custody issues that concerned Noah, but Jack didn’t know the particulars. And there was one more thing—for no particular reason, he didn’t like this man who said he was her husband. Jack said, “Nice young woman, Ellie. I was under the impression she was unmarried.”

Arnold laughed. “Yeah, I suppose that would be her story, that she’s not married. She has a long history of that kind of thing, good at stories, my Ellie. She’s married and a mother, and the judge gave me the kids. What does that tell you?”

“That someone’s not telling the whole truth,” Jack said, and his jaw twitched. He was a bartender. He didn’t very often read people wrong.

“Well, there you go. I wondered if maybe someone should warn the minister about her. You know, before he gets in too deep. Gets in trouble with the town or his higher-ups because of her.”

The silence was deafening. Everyone was listening except the fishermen at the end of the bar, and they were concentrating on their cribbage game.

Jack probably knew Ellie the best of everyone present, but others apparently had their own strong opinions about her. Ellie had been helping Walt’s daughter, Vanni, with the babies, and Walt appreciated that. Hope and Dan had met Ellie several times, and Ellie made them laugh. Mel turned in her seat to stare at the man; Jack knew Mel got a kick out of Ellie and liked her, too. By now Brie actually stood up to listen to the exchange. Jack thought Ellie and Brie had met at least once in the bar; possibly Ellie had taken her issues to Brie for legal advice. The look on his little sister’s face was venomous. The three little old ladies by the fire? They were all ears, and their legs almost twitched with the desire to bolt to their phones. And then Mike slowly got up from his table and went behind the bar to stand beside Jack.