Promise Canyon (Virgin River #13)(56)

"But of course you have days off," Paige said.

"Yes, of course," she said because she knew she should. But not really. The restaurant was open seven days a week and while it was reasonable that she take Mondays and Tuesdays as her own, there was a thing about turf and she liked protecting hers. She was the senior sous-chef and it was a political position; some of the line chefs who worked under her would cut her throat for her spot in a second, and Durant, the head chef, would hand them the knife.

For the millionth time she said to herself, I live this life because I love my work and if I hang in there I will be the Durant of the kitchen, and when it's my kitchen it will be a sane kitchen.

It was at that very moment that she happened to glance out the kitchen window and see what she recognized as her sister's head. Jillian was sitting on the back porch.

"Have you met my sister, Jillian?" she asked Paige.

"I don't think I have," Paige said.

"Come with me," Kelly said, leading the way out the back door.

When she found Jill on the back porch, she was sitting in an old wooden chair beside a round, rusting metal table, just gazing across the backyard. It was about the size of a football field and led up to the tree line. Most of it was taken up with a garden.

"Hey," Kelly said. "Whatcha doing?"

Jill turned sentimental, round eyes up to her sister. "The woman who lived here," she said. "She died in this chair."

Paige stood just behind Kelly, bouncing her little girl, Dana, on her hip. "Um, yeah, that's probably right. She spent a lot of time on her front or back porch, weather permitting. The table and chair are in such sad shape--I don't imagine anybody would want them--so after the sale we'll take them to the dump."

"Her melons and pumpkins are in," Jill said, standing.

"We'll harvest them when they're ready. She liked to give them away. I'm Paige," she said, sticking out a hand.

"Jillian. Nice to meet you. So--was she very lonely? The woman who lived here?"

Paige shook her head. "She kept herself pretty busy. She spent hours on the computer and phone, running up deals. She bought and sold the church in town, brought our midwife and local constable to town, and even though no one seemed to know much about her, she knew about everyone. She supplied a lot of ranchers and farmers with land that had been left to her that she didn't use."

"That's one helluva garden out there," Jill pointed out, gesturing to the large plot behind the house.

Paige laughed. "Truly. She was a kick about the garden. The bunnies and deer drove her crazy and she used to show up at the bar and tell Jack she was going to start shooting them for the bar to cook and Jack would just tell her he couldn't accept illegally murdered wildlife. She loved her garden, and a few other things, like local art, which she collected. There was so much about her we didn't know until after she passed, but I think that's the way Hope wanted it." Paige smiled. "There is no question in my mind--she knew she was the most eccentric character in town and loved it."

"Do you think she liked being a mystery?" Jillian asked.

"Maybe," Paige said. "Mostly, she was a completely unsentimental, crotchety old woman who constantly tried to cover the fact that she had a huge, soft, sweet heart in her. We found some old pictures--she was widowed in her thirties and an attractive, rich woman. It's a wonder she never remarried."

"Mama," little Dana said, patting Paige's hair. "Mama! Potty!"

"Good girl!" Paige said. "Please excuse us--we're in training."

"By all means," Jillian said.

When Paige had taken her little girl to find a bathroom, Jill sank back into the chair. Kelly took a seat on the steps of the back porch and looked up at her sister. "Kinda moody there, Jill. Dreaming of getting back to Kurt The Wonderful?"

Jill sighed. "Actually, I was doing some reminiscing. What does this place remind you of?"

Kelly shook her head. "Couldn't say."

"Nana's house," Jill said.

"Oh, please--this place is huge! You could probably fit three of Nana's house in this one."

"But when we were five and six, didn't it seem like a castle? Like a mansion? I'm still sorry we let that place go. I'd give anything to have that old house to visit."

"Um, and when would either of us visit it? We both work all the time...."

"I know. You're right. I just miss it."

In fact, Jillian often missed the life she had growing up there.

When the sisters were five and six there had been an accident in which they lost their father, and which disabled their mother, confining her to a wheelchair for what remained of her life. They went to live with their father's grandmother. A seventy-year-old widow at the time, she suddenly inherited two small children and became a full-time caregiver. At what should have been one of the darkest times of their young lives, Nana gave the girls the boost they needed. She told them they were going to work very hard to take care of their mama, the house, the garden, be good neighbors and good students, but it was going to be okay because they were going to make work fun. Every chore became a game, every challenge was a contest. She took them in hand and taught them both the best of the kitchen and garden and then she, a French and Russian immigrant who had very little formal education but spoke five languages, taught them to read so they could take turns reading to their mother.