Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(117)

“Thanks,” Rick said. And although Jack’s eyes were moist, Rick’s were cool. Driven and confident, once again. Maybe a little bit like Jack had been a while back, when he was about that age.

Rick threw his duffel to the driver and climbed on. Jack stood on the sidewalk until the bus was gone. Then he walked down the street and found a pay phone. He plugged a pocketful of quarters into the phone and dialed. Sam answered.

“Yeah, Dad?” Braced against the phone box, he leaned his head on his arm. “Dad?”

“Jack. What’s up?”

“Dad, I think I know how you must’ve felt. Back when I left for the Marine Corps. You must’ve wanted to die.”

It was early June when the entire Sheridan family came to Virgin River en masse. They had rented RVs, brought fancy tents, campers and toy haulers. Also in evidence, the Marines—this time some of them brought their families. Zeke brought Christa and four kids, including a brand-new baby. Josh Phillips brought Patti and the babies. Corny brought Sue and the two little girls. Tom Stephens came from Reno but had to leave the family home. Joe and Paul were there from Grants Pass. Everyone was camping at the new Sheridan home site; quads and dirt bikes had come along for the entertainment of the pack. Flatbed trucks had brought picnic tables a few days before, plus a couple of huge barbecues and portable toilets. Jack had spent the past two months getting lumber ready for framing, and yesterday, amid much food, drink and celebrating, the men erected the frame of Mel and Jack’s new home.

But that wasn’t all that was taking place during this reunion. Since everyone was present, there was another special occasion. A wedding day.

Paige and Chris were at Mel’s while Paige primped and donned a sweet and simple floral sundress and high-heeled sandals. While she was getting dressed, the men and Sheridan women were sweeping out the foundation of the framed house and stringing garlands along the beams. Rented folding chairs were brought in and set up—one hundred of them—and that wouldn’t be quite enough. Most of the town would turn out.

“I’ve never seen you look more beautiful,” Mel whispered to Paige. “Nervous?”

Paige shook her head. “Not at all.”

“When did you know?” Brie asked her. “When did you know for sure he was absolutely perfect for you?”

“Not right away,” she admitted. “I wanted no part of a man who claimed he could take care of me, for obvious reasons. But John moves real slow.” She laughed. “Real slow. It was all in the way his frown would slowly go away when he looked at me, the way his voice would get all tender and soft when he talked to me. His caution, his shyness. It takes a lot for a man like John to make a move. He has to be sure of everything. By the time he got around to telling me he loved me, I thought I’d die waiting for him. But he’s a careful man—and he doesn’t change his mind.”

“How’d he do it?” Brie wanted to know. “Propose.”

“Hmm.” She thought. “Well, we’ve talked about this for a while—about making a commitment when things got under control. He told me at Christmastime he wanted to be with me forever, add to the family, and I wanted that, too. But when you come down to the exact, official proposal, he was peeling potatoes. He stopped what he was doing and looked across the kitchen at me. My hair was stringy, I was sweating from the heat of the stove and doing dishes, and he said, ‘Whenever you’re ready, I want to marry you. I’m dying to marry you,’ he said.”

“Well,” Brie said, unimpressed. “That must have knocked you right off your feet.”

“Yeah, it did,” she said in a sigh. “John’s the only person I’ve ever known who could look at me in my worst physical and emotional state and think I’m perfect.”

Mel took her hand. “Come on. We’re almost late. We have to go now.”

The women loaded Chris and baby David in the Hummer and drove out to the home site. The widened road was lined with cars and trucks, and at the top of the hill, more vehicles, RVs and trailers. Mel drove all the way to the top and parked right near the structure that would one day be her house. Picnic tables were laden with food, the framed house was strung with flower garlands and the chairs on the foundation were full with people standing around behind them and out in the yard. Smoke rose from heated barbecues and children ran about. A ceremony, a picnic, a party, and some playtime. And for once, Preacher would do none of the cooking.

Paige, Mel and Brie got out of the Hummer. Someone immediately handed them simple bouquets and took David from Mel so she could attend the ceremony; a boutonniere was pinned onto Christopher’s shirt and he clutched Bear under his arm.

There was no music, but this was not to be a traditional wedding, not meant to resemble other weddings, because John and Paige wanted this day to reflect who they were—simple, grateful people who loved each other more than the event. The bar was not big enough and the church had been boarded up for years. It was John who had said, “Once we get the frame of Jack’s house up, not only will everyone we care about be there, there will be lots of room.” Who gets married in a framed house? was Paige’s first thought. Her next immediate thought was—people like John and me do.

But looking at it now, strung with flowers, it was so beautiful that for a second she couldn’t breathe. To the left was a view that went on forever, to the right, the majestic mountains. It had become an outdoor church, filled with friends.