Forbidden Falls (Virgin River #9)(91)

She took a step toward him and spoke to his back. “Then why?” she asked. “Why did you get yourself that terrible reputation? I can tell you’re crazy about Jo. You’d be lost without her, I know you would.”

“You’re right. And I don’t know why. Lonely, maybe. Cross because I wasn’t getting my way? A couple of times I thought maybe Jo would be jealous and—” He shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter. It’s been a long time since I did anything as stupid as make a pass, and that’s when I almost came up against Jack Sheridan. Whew,” he said, shaking his head. “That was years ago, and if Mel hadn’t put me straight right quick, Jack would have killed me. That was before they were together, you know. But Mel was already his woman in his eyes.” He glanced over his shoulder again and smiled sheepishly at Ellie. “You’re old enough to know this, Ellie. Men can be very stupid.”

She took another step toward him. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Nick, listen to me. Don’t waste another minute. This thing with Jo has gone on too long. Fix it.”

He looked down. “I wish I knew how.”

“Beg,” she said. “Ask her forgiveness. Say you were stupid and wrong and that you need her. And, for gosh sakes, tell her how much you love her. It shows all over you when you’re within ten feet of her. The two of you have already wasted so much time.”

“It might not make any difference, you know. Jo might not want things back the way they were.”

“You have two choices, Nick. You can find out, or you can go on like this and never know.” She grinned at him. “By the way, I didn’t have a boyfriend, six-five or otherwise, and the only judge I know is my worst nightmare.”

He grinned back. “I know.”

Fifteen

Vanni was doing much better at keeping up with two little ones and a house, thanks to Ellie’s help. She’d even gotten pretty adept at putting two toddlers in car seats and carting them off for shopping errands. Her days were a bit more tiring, of course; there was no way to minimize the work involved, nor the amount of cleaning and laundry. And diapers? She was up to her eyeballs in diapers without the energy to begin potty training Matt. But Ellie promised to be back—she had just needed two or three days in town so she could be available to her own kids. Just one day of help from Ellie would probably put Vanni right again.

Much of the time lately, when Vanni was in the same room, the kids were set free. If Vanni wasn’t exactly doting on Hannah, little Matt certainly was. Hannah followed him around—he, toddling; she, crawling at top speed and pulling herself up to a standing position on any piece of furniture that she could reach. Matt would bring her toys; she would offer hers to him. It was when Vanni noticed Hannah taking a couple of tentative steps from her spot leaning against the coffee table that Vanni realized she would be a year old in a month.

Her first birthday.

When Matt was taking first steps, Vanni and Paul and anyone else within shouting distance would be coaching him, reaching out hands for him, praising him, taking movies. But Hannah was doing it on her own.

Was this because she was the second child, or because she was Terri’s child? Vanni asked herself.

When Matt was about to have his first birthday, Vanni and Paul and Walt were planning a wonderful big birthday celebration to include all their friends. But, with some shame, Vanni realized she was going to have to look at the documents that came along with Hannah to find out her exact date of birth.

“Mama!” Hannah said triumphantly. Then she went splat on her diaper-cushioned butt and laughed.

“Yes,” Vanni said, smiling at her, “you’re walking! Big girl!”

Thankfully the doorbell interrupted her thoughts and she went to answer it. It was a UPS delivery, a very large box addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Haggerty. She signed for it and brought it into the great room where the children played. She put the box on the floor in front of the couch and sat down. “What do you think we have?” she said to the kids, who migrated nearer, curious. She opened the box and found a letter on the top of the Bubble Wrap. “Hmm, a surprise, I think,” she said. She opened the letter and read:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Haggerty,

Mr. Hanson told me you hadn’t made a decision about Hannah yet, but I thought maybe you could take care of these things. I have nowhere to store them and I don’t want to lose track of them. They belong to Hannah. If you decide she’s going to be adopted by someone else, please be sure her new family gets them. I’m in a nursing home now, my MS is pretty serious, so the nurse is writing this for me. I know it’s a lot to ask, since I haven’t done anything to help out, but if you or her new family can ever work it out, I would sure love a chance to see Hannah.

Thank you for taking care of her.

Roberta Bradford

“Wow,” Vanni whispered. She put the letter down and pulled aside the Bubble Wrap to reveal a box full of pictures. The one on top was an eight-by-ten framed picture of a baby that looked exactly like Hannah. She removed it and beneath it were a couple of shoe boxes full of snapshots. She fanned through a few and caught shots of Terri at a birthday party, Terri as a pudgy two-year-old in a bikini, grinning that big, huge-eyed grin, all dark curls. Terri with people Vanni would never know and Terri sitting on the same woman’s lap a lot—that must be her mother in younger, healthier times.