Promise Canyon (Virgin River #13)(28)

She tasted like berries. Or her lip gloss tasted like berries. Her hair smelled like Ivory soap, a clean, pure smell. And even after moving hay and feed all day, her skin smelled like fresh, sweet grass. He tightened his arms around her and could have stayed that way all day. But she pushed him away and Streak began to get restless. He let her go and smiled at her. "Twenty-seven is good," he said.

"Get a grip," she snapped. "Not gonna happen!"

"Oh, I hope you're wrong," he said, unable to hide a little laughter from his voice.

"I might have to tell my grandfather to have one of the guys from the store deliver here."

"And not check on the horses?" he asked.

"It's a sacrifice I'd be willing to make."

But she hadn't pushed him away immediately. She'd given it some thought and indulged for a while. He'd definitely felt her kissing him back. So he said, "That would be a tragedy."

"Never do that again," she warned. She picked up the brush and put it in his hand. "I mean it."

"If that's what you want," he said with a nod.

"It is."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

It seemed as though she thought through her words before speaking. "Listen to me carefully. We have some things in common. A culture, for one thing. A couple of horses, for another. Nathaniel wouldn't be going to all this trouble if Streak was an ordinary horse. If you do things like this--grabbing and kissing me--we can't even be friends. Do you hear me?"

He gave his head a tilt. "Can we be friends?"

"If I can trust you."

He put his hands up, palms toward her. "You can trust me. And I want to be friends. I want you to come back, mix it up with the horses. I think you have something important to offer. I want to watch and learn."

A silent huff of laughter escaped her. She put her hands on her hips. "Learn from me? You're the one with all the experience."

"I'm not so sure about that," he said. "So--I'm very sorry. It won't happen again. And you can trust me. Come back as soon as you can."

"I'll think about it." And with that, she left the stable. But she was immediately back. "Tell Nathaniel I'm going to pay for Blue's board until I can find someone for her. Tell him not to move her out of Club Med. I'll bring a check." Then she disappeared again.

Clay began to brush Streak and very soon he heard her truck engine start and leave the area.

"Well," he said to the horse, "I certainly can't blame you for making me look like a fool."

Six

Jack Sheridan used stencils to create a couple of signs announcing a town meeting. He'd hang one on the bar door, the other on the church door. The meeting was set to take place in the church in a few days. He had the pages laid out on the bar and lettered with colored markers. Mel sat across from him, leaning her chin on her palm, watching.

"You don't have to do it this way," Mel said.

"I know it," he replied. "But I'm not much of an autocrat."

Preacher stood beside Jack, leaning one hand on the bar, watching as he stenciled. "He was a helluva autocrat when we were in the Marines," Preacher pointed out.

"A different situation entirely," Jack said. "Hope left everything she had to the town. I'm just the custodian. I owe it to her to find out what the town wants and needs."

"You're going to get six hundred opinions," Mel said. "Besides, Hope never asked anyone. I doubt she expected you to."

"It doesn't matter," Jack said, filling in letters with colorful markers. "That was her money. Now it's the town's money. Shouldn't the town have a say in how it's used?"

"No," Mel and Preacher said together. Then they looked at each other in surprise.

"You know the saying--too many cooks in the kitchen," Mel said. "And also, there's nothing in her will saying it has to be dealt with right away, or used at all. It can be invested, saved for a real emergency."

"I'll suggest that option at the meeting," Jack said.

Jack had gone to visit the lawyer who had drawn up the will and trust; it turned out there was a lot of money invested in long-term stocks and bonds, in addition to the house, its contents and land--several million. Now, to a man like Jack, that was a fortune. But as the lawyer quickly pointed out, the budget to run a town, even a very small town, was usually considerably higher. This would at least partially explain why Hope had always kept a firm hand on the bottom line, invested cautiously and conservatively, and when she did spend money--like on hiring Mel as the town midwife or Mike Valenzuela as the town cop--the salaries she offered were not exactly impressive. Of course, also important to remember, Hope had done this out of the goodness of her bank account and no one in town held a meeting or contributed to those salaries. Doc Mullins had worked Mel into his practice then bequeathed the practice to her, relieving Hope of the expense. But as far as Jack could tell, Mike's modest salary was still being paid out of the Virgin River Trust.

"I hope I'm not spoiling a surprise," Mel said, "but Noah's going to make you an offer on behalf of the Presbyterian Women. If you can see your way clear to cut us in on some of the profits, the women's group could volunteer to get in that old house and sort, clean, pitch and restore items. We could hold an estate sale, and the town and the Presbyterian Women would both benefit. And since our women's group serves both the church and the town, it probably works into your plan."