Hidden Summit (Virgin River #17)(66)

Conner patted her arm affectionately. “We’ve always been able to talk very openly, very honestly, haven’t we, Katie?” She nodded. “Then let me say something that’s kind of hard to say to my little sister. It sounds like you’re choosing a roommate, not a husband. You like him more for what he doesn’t do for you than for what he does. He doesn’t make you feel too much.”

“Oh, you’re wrong,” she insisted. “I could really tear his clothes off. The big question is—does he want to tear my clothes off? Because if he can be the gentleman in the light of day and a wild man when the lights go out, he’s absolutely what I want. I’m not stupid—I’m not going to get hooked up with a guy who doesn’t have any passion.”

“You have to promise me that,” Conner said.

“I promise, of course. But if he has all the traits I mentioned—the kindness and the gentleness and also passion, then he’s exactly what I want. Exactly. This isn’t the frontier—I don’t need some macho man who’s going to protect me from the grizzly. I need a dependable, loving, caring man who will come home from work every night.”

Conner heard it, but he didn’t believe it. That might be what Katie thought she needed—the comfortable old shoe. But it would leave her hungry and a little empty.

His baby sister was afraid to fall in love, love like she’d had with Charlie—hot, irrepressible, sizzling love that left her flushed and breathless. Because when you had that kind of love and lost it, the pain was just terrible.

But he said, “You’ll do the right thing, Katie. Just be sure to ask all the right questions of yourself before you get in too deep.”

“Of myself?”

“Yes,” Conner said. “Questions like, can you be happy with almost everything, or do you have to have it all? Because it’s hard to be honest about that.”

Leslie found the warm weather and lengthening of the days to be such a comfort, especially as she was missing Conner. When she got home from work, there was still enough daylight for her to enjoy the front porch. And if neighbors happened to walk by, she gave them a wave, sometimes they even stopped to chat for a while. Mrs. Hutchkins was an energetic walker; Mrs. Clemens was slow but earnest.

Nora walked over with her kids, and while Berry played on the grass with her little talking box that made all the animal sounds, Nora sat in the chair beside Leslie to give Fay her bottle.

“Let me,” Leslie said, reaching for the baby.

“Sure. She’s a cuddle bug, that one is.” Then she gave Berry a little nod. “And that one is so independent, sometimes it worries me.”

“Why?” Leslie asked. “She seems happy.”

“I think she is, at least most of the time. I had such a completely dysfunctional relationship with her father, I wonder if she’s scarred for life. Emotionally. At least he wasn’t around all that much, but still… I’m working through some of that now. Pastor Kincaid is a wonderful counselor.”

“Is he?”

“Truly,” Nora said. “I’m not a religious person at all, and when Mel Sheridan suggested I talk to him, I was very reluctant. I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to unburden my sorry soul to a minister.” Then she laughed a little. “One of the first things I learned about him is that he was a counselor before he was a minister.”

“Do you mind if I ask? How old are you, Nora?”

“Twenty-three. Only twenty-three. Going on forty.”

“Sounds like you’ve lived a lot.”

“Fast,” she said. “You look pretty comfortable with that baby,” she said with a smile.

“I wanted children,” Leslie confided. “I was married for eight years, divorced at thirty-one, and I wanted children. But my husband wasn’t interested in having kids and I let it go.” She shook her head and frowned. “I let a lot of things I wanted go. Now I’m trying to figure out why I’d do that.”

“What we do for men, huh?” Nora asked.

“Are you divorced, Nora?”

“Never married,” she said with a shake of her head. “I met this handsome, badass baseball player when I was nineteen and got pregnant not once but twice. He brought me up here and dumped me—Fay was only a few weeks old when he left. He had this idea he was going to get into the marijuana business, but he was too unreliable for even that and he took off. He left me right before this whole town was buried in the biggest snowstorm and the wind was blowing under my door! He took everything—the truck, even the refrigerator. I was scared to death and had no idea what I was going to do, and now? Now I feel like I should write him a thank-you note or something! Got my girls in a nice little town where I don’t have to be afraid of all the things I was afraid of before.”

“My God, how did you get by?”

“On the generosity of new friends who didn’t owe me a thing. Your boss sent someone over to my house to seal the doors and windows against the cold. Preacher’s wife brought over clothes and blankets and even an ice cooler for me to keep my milk and stuff. Adie told Pastor she thought I could use a Christmas food basket. It just spiraled from there. When the snow started to melt, Mel Sheridan gave me a part-time job in the clinic—she said I could bring my kids as long as I could manage them—that’s what she had to do when hers came along.” She reached over and gave her baby’s fat foot a squeeze. “I owe everything to the people in this town. I really don’t know what I would have done!”