Moonlight Road (Virgin River #11)(78)

“I don’t want to learn you haven’t been telling me the truth,” she said.

“You won’t,” he said, shaking his head. “How long did you spend with her? An hour?”

“Ten minutes, tops,” she said.

“And with me?”

Days! Days and nights! “You weren’t completely honest,” she reminded him.

“Aw, we were just having fun—I wasn’t trying to manipulate you. What could I possibly gain by trying to convince you I’m a homeless vagrant?” He stepped toward her cautiously. “And there’s one other thing—you might not trust my brothers to sell me out, but my mother wouldn’t lie for the pope. She’s been foggy on the details of my marriage—I didn’t tell her till it was over, and God knows I didn’t tell her the worst of it until a couple of days ago, but she knows me. Take your chances on her, Erin. With my blessing.”

She tilted her head and her eyes lit up. She smiled. This was true! She barely knew Maureen, but she knew what he said was correct. “That might help your case.”

“I just want you to trust me again,” he said.

She could have been seduced by him, she knew that. She was a woman who’d gone from being frustrated by her sex life to almost bored by it to a woman completely vulnerable to this man’s touch. He was every man rolled into one—gentle and sweet, strong and powerful, generous and at times, demanding. Since he’d brought her libido to life, he was the one man who could finesse her into forgetting herself completely. He could make her lose control and all he’d have to do to set that train in motion was the merest touch, the smallest brush of his lips. There was a part of her that wished he would try. And there was no question that he knew it, too.

But he didn’t. Instead, he bent to one knee and pulled out some errant weeds that she’d missed. Then he moved to the other end of the garden and pulled a few more. He picked up the handheld spading fork and began to break up clots. She just watched him for a few moments and then she knelt again to the same task at the other end of the garden.

“You have some blossoms here,” he said in passing, not looking at her. “In a month, you’ll see tomatoes. Green ones, at least.”

In a month, will I see my love life restored? she wanted to ask. In a month, will everything be all right?

They worked in companionable silence for a long time; every once in a while Aiden would say something like, “You might be able to pull up a small carrot in a couple of weeks,” or “You’ll have to be sure to come back up here in fall—the melons and pumpkins start late, but you wouldn’t want to miss that.” Finally he sat back on his heels and said, “Erin, why don’t you shower while I finish up here and I’ll take you to Luke’s to see the new baby.”

“I do want to see the baby. Is it a mistake for me to spend time with you? Should we just avoid each other until some of this mess gets resolved?”

He shook his head and smiled. “You’ll be okay. I know you’re disappointed and maybe a little worried about what’s coming, but I think you know you’re perfectly safe with me. I’m not going to try to trip you up—I want you to feel in control right now.” Then he frowned and glanced away for a moment.

“What is it?” she asked.

He looked back at her, shaking his head. “I can’t figure out how she knew who you were, where you were. I didn’t have a conversation with her—I told her I didn’t want her around my brother’s property. No one in my family would have told her things without asking me first. I can’t figure it out.”

“She didn’t say how she knew,” Erin said. “And I didn’t ask.”

“It’ll come out eventually,” he said. “Go on, honey—clean up and I’ll drive you over. Nothing like a new baby to take your mind off all sorts of dark things….”

Aiden Riordan opened the door to Luke’s house, pushed Erin inside and announced, “Erin’s here for a visit. I’ll be outside with Luke and Art.”

She found Shelby sitting on the sofa plucking baby clothes out of a laundry basket and folding them into neat little piles. She beamed at Erin. “Well, hello! What a nice surprise!”

Maureen Riordan was in the kitchen, busy taking cookies off a cookie sheet; Rosie was up on a chair, playing with a handful of dough like it was clay. Rosie had flour everywhere—on her hands, face, clothes. The house was filled with the wonderful smell of freshly baked sweets.

Maureen smiled and said, “Hi, Erin. How are you?”

“Fine, thanks,” she said. She presented a gift bag to Shelby. “A little something for the baby.”

“Brett’s sleeping,” Rosie said. “Finally!”

“Does he fuss a lot?” Erin asked Rosie.

She shook her head vigorously, her red curls bouncing. She reminded Erin so much of Marcie as a little girl. “No! He screams!” Rosie announced.

Shelby just laughed and put aside her laundry. “Well, he’s a guy, what do you expect.” Shelby reached for the gift bag. “Now, what’s this? This is just too nice of you!”

“Really, it’s nothing. I was shopping and got sidetracked by baby things—my sister is due next month and I was busying buying out the store for their little boy. I lost control,” she said. “I have a big box to take back to Chico when it’s time for the baby.”