My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(58)

“I’d rather just make a phone call,” she said.

“Well, if you’re going back in the mountains, your cell won’t work. I think you’re probably lucky your battery went dead here in Fortuna rather than out on a mountain road somewhere, although as long as your engine was running, you were safe.”

“But now I’m safer,” she said. “I bet I can risk going to a florist before I get on my way.”

“A florist, a deli, a dress shop, whatever you feel like.” He tightened down the screw and said, “Start her up.”

She got in the car, turned the ignition and the car roared to life. She left it running, but got out and faced him. “Are you sure I can’t pay you for your trouble?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m overpaid already, seriously. I’m just glad I could help.”

“You’re a very impressive young man. I just wish I could wrap you up and give you to my daughter for Christmas.”

He laughed and said, “I’m afraid I’m taken.”

“Unsurprising.” She put out her hand. “I’m Donna,” she said.

“Patrick,” he returned, shaking her hand. “Drive safely.”

“I think I might look around Fortuna. I have plenty of time. It wouldn’t hurt to grab a few things for my brother’s children, since I’m surprising him.”

“Enjoy,” Paddy said, heading for his Jeep.

Patrick looked at his watch. That little adventure had only cost him forty minutes that he could certainly spare. Then it was home to set up his roast. Easily done. Then he peeled potatoes and got them underwater. He was cheating on the peas and carrots—frozen. But frozen was good. Angie, who loved everything, wasn’t much of a cook. She was easy to impress. In fact, he couldn’t think of a single thing he did that didn’t wind her watch and he laughed to himself.

She was so good for his ego, an ego that had suffered the past year. He’d been feeling unsure of himself. A little lost, really. But Angie brought him back to life, made him smile. Laugh. Most important, with her he could revisit hopefulness. Optimism.

In record time, he was on his way to the bar. When he got there, he jumped up on a stool at the end, staying out of the way.

Jack slapped a napkin on the bar in front of him. “How’s it going, pardner?”

“Good, thanks. Beer?”

“You meeting Ange?”

“Yep.”

“Having dinner tonight?”

“I cooked,” he said. “I’m a good cook.”

“I’m sure,” Jack said, placing the cold draft in front of Patrick. The bar hadn’t filled up yet, giving Jack too much time to linger. “And after dinner?” he asked.

“Scrabble,” Paddy said, lifting the icy mug.

“You two must be getting pretty good at Scrabble.”

“She annihilates me. Every time. And I can spell.”

“She’s brilliant,” Jack agreed. “So, when do you leave?”

“Ready for me to go?” Paddy asked.

“Not necessarily. If you’re fool enough to leave her, I just want to be ready to scoop up my little girl and try to keep her from falling apart.”

Patrick got serious for a moment, against his better judgment. “Jack, it has nothing to do with intelligence—it’s just what I have to do. How this went was always up to her. I swear, I didn’t manipulate her. I was honest from the start.”

Jack sighed heavily. “I know. She was hell-bent. Just try to be a little…I don’t know…sensitive.”

“Absolutely. I think the world of Angie. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever… But, see, that’s not going to count for much because Angie has her own plans.”

“So I hear. But just the same. Go easy, all right?”

Patrick wanted to say something like, I wouldn’t hurt her for the world, except leaving her was going to hurt her to at least some degree. Despite her bravado, she was going to grieve him. He was definitely going to grieve her. He wanted to tell Jack he had regrets, which he did, and top of the list was his making a commitment to Marie, even though he knew it was the right thing to do.

“Hold her up, Jack,” Patrick said. “She deserves better than some jet jockey.”

“Probably right about that.”

And right then, speak of the devil, Angie walked into the bar. When he saw her, he sat taller. “Look at her, Jack. She lights up the whole place. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”

“Not lately.”

And in no time it was easy to see why Patrick was doing this—to be able to lift his arm to circle her shoulders, put a kiss on her cheek, bask in her smile for a little while. To feel that she was his. It brought such a rush of pride. He wondered if he’d ever felt this way about Leigh, but if he had, he couldn’t remember it now.

Angie leaned toward her uncle and kissed his cheek, and even that brought Patrick pleasure. It made him feel a part of something.

Jack served her up a glass of wine and made small talk while he still could; soon the bar would begin to fill up with the dinner crowd and all those people from other towns and outlying regions who wanted to see the magnificent tree. And just before the sun began to set, there was a familiar face in the bar. That tall, auburn-haired woman from the grocery store parking lot walked into the bar.