My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(4)

Mel gave her arm a pat. “It’s not as much fun now that construction professionals are involved,” she said. “It hardly ever falls and crushes whole buildings.”

Brie hugged Angie hard. “I’m so glad you’re here for a long visit.”

Almost teary, all Angie could do was nod. Of all her aunts, she was closest to Brie. Brie had been only twelve when she was born. “Me, too,” she said. “I’ll be here for the tree-raising.” Then she looked around at the little town, the lights shining from inside unfussy little houses, smoke curling from chimneys, folks pulling up to the bar and giving a wave to Jack, Mel and Brie as they went inside. The sky was darkening fast, gray clouds gathering and looking heavy with their burden. “Snow tonight?” she asked.

“Very likely,” Brie said. “It’s way overdue. Call if you need anything.”

* * *

When Patrick got back to the cabin he was staying in—his brother Aiden’s place on the ridge—one of his other brothers, Colin, was sitting on a chair on the deck.

“What are you doing here?”

Colin lifted a bag. “I brought you some Thanksgiving leftovers.”

Patrick sighed. “I was offered those yesterday at your house and I said no thank you.”

“Jilly figured that by now you might have changed your mind.”

“Why didn’t you just leave them in the kitchen?” he asked. “The door isn’t locked.”

Colin just shook his head. “Look, kid, I don’t pretend to understand everything that’s going on with you, but I’m not going to invade your territory. I’ll go inside when I’m invited inside.”

Patrick walked around him and opened the door. He stood back and held it open. “Please,” he said. When Colin stepped inside, Patrick said, “It’s not complicated—I’m rethinking the Navy. But after four years in the Academy and quite a few in the cockpit, it’s not an easy decision.”

“Especially coming right after Leigh stepped out of your life and Jake dies…” Colin added.

“I think they’re called life-altering events,” Patrick said. “It’s actually more complicated, though. I’m due orders. I’m going to get a squadron, and I’m not sure I want to take it. I’ve been given a little time to think about it, and not necessarily because of Jake.” But that was a lie—it was because of Jake. The Navy shrink had ordered his leave.

“You’re grieving.”

“I’m thinking,” Patrick returned emphatically. And then he looked away, remembering with some longing a time when he had been the least screwed up of the Riordan brothers. He had once been the least complicated, too.

“It might help to talk about it,” Colin suggested.

That idea had been suggested before—many times. If his brothers knew how much time he’d already spent with the shrink, they’d either give up on him or get a lot more invasive.

“Colin, not that long ago, we all tried to get you to open up about your issues and it pissed you off because you were feeling very private....”

“I was feeling very secretive,” Colin corrected. “Because after I had augured in in the Black Hawk I was chewing Oxy like M&M’s and couldn’t risk letting anyone in my space.”

“Even before that,” Patrick said. “You were the brother who rarely put in an appearance at family things and, when you did you didn’t last long, so cut me some slack here. I need to be that brother for a while.” In fact, the reason Patrick had chosen to come to Virgin River was because both Luke and Colin lived here, and Sean and Aiden were not so far away. He did want to see his brothers, just not too much of them. And because Patrick had been scheduled to be out to sea and not in Virgin River, the entire Riordan clan was planning a Christmas holiday reunion in warm and sunny San Diego. They had rented two large condos on the beach and his mother, Maureen, with her significant other, George, would go there in their RV. But Patrick would not be going to San Diego. By Christmas, he’d be heading back to Charleston to either accept the new assignment or pack up his gear and out-process. In the meantime, this little cabin of Aiden’s—way up on top of the mountain—was sweet. And remote. And just what he wanted.

Colin put his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “Even before the Oxy, I had turned ass**le into an art form. I realize that now. It took having my life gutted to turn me into the sweetheart I am today.” Then he grinned. But he didn’t remove his hand. “But you’ve always been the best one in the family. The most stable, sensitive, settled. It was always hard to picture you as a fighter jock. And now? It’s hard to watch you in pain.”

“I’m not in pain,” Patrick said. “I’m in deep thought. Right now taking on a squadron commits me to the career path. I need some time to think about that. I’ll talk about it after I’ve sorted a few things out. And I’m not completely antisocial—I made it to Thanksgiving dinner, right? I get to town for a beer almost every day.” He didn’t keep any alcohol at the cabin because the temptation to stay drunk for a few weeks was too strong. “I just need a little time, that’s all. There’s no reason for you to worry.”

Colin removed the hand. “Okay, then. So, since you’re not antisocial, hit town for a while tomorrow—they’re raising the tree.”