Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(58)

“Okay, cowboy,” Preacher said, coming forward. He took the top out of Paige’s hands and held it for the boy. Christopher slipped his arms in and turned around so that Preacher could snap it up the back. “That a boy,” he said.

Paige put a hand on Preacher’s forearm and said, “Please tuck in the cowboy and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Christopher lunged at Preacher, jumping on him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, hugging him tight. “Wanna kiss Mommy good-night?” Preacher asked.

Christopher leaned around Preacher a little, puckering, but didn’t let go. He got his kiss and Paige left them alone. “In you go,” Preacher said.

“Read,” he said.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s been a long day.”

“Read,” he said. “One page.”

“Okay, one page.” Preacher sat on the bed beside him and accepted the book. He read three pages. “Now you have to settle down.”

He started whining and wiggling around.

“Did someone give you sugar?” Preacher asked him. “Get into bed. Enough of this.” He tucked the covers around him and kissed his head. “See you happy in the morning.”

“G’night,” Christopher said, snuggling down in the bed.

When Preacher got downstairs he found Paige in the bar, at the table by the fire, and she had poured him a shot and herself a glass of wine. A new log had been added, an unspoken signal they would sit there together for a while. Her silky, light-brown hair caught a shine off the flame; her cheeks were pink and her curved lips soft and inviting. An ache of longing he couldn’t suppress spread through him.

“I poured your shot. And helped myself.”

“Thanks,” he said. “He’s a little wound up tonight. I asked him if anyone gave him sugar and then realized, it was me. Pie and ice cream, two helpings. And I think he had a cola, too.”

“Well, he’s exhausted, so as soon as he detoxes, he should be out like a light. It was a wonderful dinner, John. I think you outdid yourself.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to come back early.” He pulled out the chair and sat down with her. “Did something happen?”

She shook her head. “It was a fantastic visit. Jeannie’s husband is a great guy, great with Chris. She’s working like a dog in that shop of hers, but it’s going to be successful and she’s so proud of herself. Thank you again for doing that.”

“You missed her,” he said.

“And guess what?” she said, smiling. “After a few days, I missed you. I missed Mel and Jack, some of the others.” She laughed. “I missed the kitchen.”

“Did she offer you that job?” he asked tentatively.

“She did. I told her I’d keep it in mind, but I didn’t think I’d end up doing that.”

He was pretty sure he hadn’t heard right. “You have a better idea?” he asked.

She lifted one eyebrow. “You think a string of shops would make it in Virgin River?” she asked him. “Right now, I’m fine. Chris is fine. I’ve asked you before and I’m trusting you, John, to tell me the truth—you say it’s okay I’m here. And when it’s not really what’s good for you, for the bar, I hope you’ll tell me.”

“Paige, I wouldn’t lie to you. Have I ever lied to you?”

She laughed. “No, not really. But you have been known to delay the information.”

“Aw, not so much,” he said. “Paige, does he—does Christopher ask about him? His dad?”

She shook her head. “He asked about his Big Wheel.” She looked down. “I’m really worried about something, John. Between my brother, who is a copy of my scrappy dad, and Wes, I’m afraid Chris could get cursed with some nasty DNA thing that causes him to be angry, to hit, to hurt people. I’m really scared about it. Maybe you could look it up?”

“I could,” he said. “But I think you can see, he’s sweet and happy every day. It’s probably a good idea to keep an eye on that, though. I would.” He took a small sip of his drink. “Wes,” he said. “Does he have people somewhere? Family?”

“No one,” she said. “He grew up real rough. Foster homes, group homes. A lot of bouncing around.” She laughed ruefully. “I thought it was pretty admirable that someone who came up hard made something of himself. I was looking at the outside, ignoring the inside. He didn’t come through it—he brought it with him.”

He was silent, thinking. “I served with a guy who grew up in foster homes,” he finally said. “Had a really hard time as a kid. Sweetest guy you ever met. His childhood made him want a nicer life. You can never tell about that. Which way it’s gonna go. You just have to try your hardest to raise him right.” He grinned at her suddenly. “I can show you that ear-twist of my mom’s….”

Paige smiled at him, sipped her wine. She’d had a lot of late-night talks with Jeannie about John, about Virgin River. Jeannie put in real long days at her shop and Paige had tried to help out by cleaning up the house and starting dinner. But her old best friend, though she may have been tired, sat up and listened to the saga of meeting John, of John’s confrontation with Wes, of visiting her family in L.A. and John holding up to them—holding her up. John and Chris. Jeannie saw the bear with the blue-and-gray flannel leg. She had stroked it and said, “Oh, God. I’ve never known a guy who does something like this. This is amazing.”