Redwood Bend (Virgin River #18)(9)

She stopped and turned to look up at her brother before she reached the porch. “Conner, I love it. I love Leslie. I think I’m going to love the town—but you do understand, I have to find the boys something permanent with the right schools, sports, all that…”

“I know. I know. But can you just get your bearings? Take at least a few weeks to get to know the area?”

She could do that. After Disney World and a long coast-to-coast move, she was more than ready to take a break. She had to get her life in order, get the boys set up, find a job that she really saw herself staying in for a long time. The boys would be starting first grade in the fall. She’d love to be nested by then. Here? Nearby?

The inside of the cabin was as perfect for her as the outside had been—two bedrooms separated by a bath downstairs, a loft upstairs and the rest of the downstairs space was a living room/kitchen just the right size for a single mom and two little boys. “There seems to be one important item missing,” she said to her brother. “Where’s the TV?”

“I guess it went with the doc to his new house. But Jack said you have satellite out here, so we’ll fix you up. We’ll make a run to a bigger town on the weekend, get a TV.”

“It’s either that or take them off Xbox and Wii cold-turkey, and I might not be up to that.”

“What did we have as kids?” Conner asked. “Did we have all this electronic stuff?”

“Atari and Nintendo,” she told him. “And immediately following that, I think we went to work in the store. By the way, is there a hardware store around here?”

“On the coast, Fortuna and Eureka. And that has inspired some thought.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been thinking this place could use one. Maybe somewhere between here and the closer small towns, like Grace Valley, Clear River. Paul could use one—he’s getting most of his stuff shipped in from a wholesaler. It wouldn’t be like the last store—there aren’t enough custom jobs around here to support it, but folks around here have to drive a long way for nails and paint.”

She put her fingers on her temples. “Okay, don’t give me too much to think about yet,” she said. “Just help me get my stuff inside and go to work unpacking. I’ll get settled and meet you in town for dinner.”

While Conner brought in the boxes she had shipped, she wrangled the suitcases. She found someone had put staples in the refrigerator and cupboard—milk, cereal, bread, lunch meat, eggs. “Les,” Conner said. “She thinks of everything.”

Conner went over a few details—no food or garbage left outside to tempt bears, there was bear repellant in the high cupboard above the microwave and a fire extinguisher under the sink. If you leave a pie cooling in the window sill, don’t count on it to be there later. And no wandering in the woods—it was way too easy to get lost if you didn’t know your way.

“This bear thing sounds serious,” Katie said.

“Jack said he heard Doc Michaels saw one bear, one time in two years. And Jack has seen more than that at his house. They’re all over the place, and mostly run off at the sight of a human, but no point in taking chances. You’ll have to talk to the boys about that, supervise if they’re playing outside and get them inside if you see one.”

“How many people have been attacked?” she asked.

“Jack said in the eight years he’s been here, zero. But still, keep an eye out.”

When you travel with only the essentials, it doesn’t take long to settle in. Her keepsakes of Charlie’s medals and their family pictures went in the trunk that served as a coffee table—the boys liked to look at them sometimes. Clothes went in drawers and closets and toys in the loft. The boys wanted Xbox hooked up immediately, though they seemed not to notice there was no TV until she pointed that out. So after lunch, the three of them threw a ball for a while in the clearing, then they kicked a soccer ball for a while, then the boys had a little quiet time with their videos and the portable DVD player.

And Katie had her own respite on the porch. It was miraculous, being surrounded by nothing but nature. The sounds of the forest—a variety of birds, rustling, the occasional caw or quack—lulled her and she let her eyes close. No growling, she observed.

Burlington had been so much quieter than Sacramento, but this—this was almost the wilderness. Having been raised in a city, Katie had no idea why the pristine and barely populated parts of the country held such appeal for her. She really hoped to take the boys to visit all those national wonders when they got a little older—Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Big Sur. Katie and Conner’s parents had taken them to Yosemite when they were young and she never wanted to leave. Conner had looked up the face of El Capitan at the climbers and nearly passed out. He could barely stand on a ladder, heights made him so woozy, but Katie wouldn’t mind learning rock climbing. The idea of scaling El Capitan had thrilled her. She had looked up that sheer rock at the climbers who spent the night in sleeping bags suspended from stakes pounded into the flat face of the rock and had envied them.

Even though she was a small girl, she was the athlete in the family and had planned a life of running a girls’ gym in a school, that’s what she’d studied. She had a degree in Phys Ed. Nothing could make her happier than going to work every day in a pair of shorts and sneakers with a whistle around her neck.