Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(65)

“I hate you so much right now,” Mike said.

“Yeah? You’ll get over it. Probably real soon—when you next want food.”

It took him a few days of pouting, but then Mike brought up his issues with Mel during one of their rehab sessions. He got a round of antibiotics for a chronic bladder infection and an antidepressant that he’d probably only have to take for a few months. But he’d be damned if he’d thank Preacher. Guys just don’t talk about those things. At least sober.

But he secretly found this rather amazing, coming from Preacher.

He walked into the bar early one afternoon, between lunch and dinner, and found Preacher seated on a stool with a towel around his shoulders. Paige had scissors in her hand and was trimming him up. He cocked his head and looked at this activity.

“I was a beautician,” she said, smiling. “And if John is going to have hair, he’s going to have to keep it decent. I see to that,” she said, smiling. Then, taking a comb to his bushy eyebrows, said, “Not to mention these evil things. I’ve never seen a man with so much hair here.”

“He is looking better these days, I’ve noticed,” Mike said. “I figured it was you.”

Preacher glowered.

Laughing, Mike ran a hand over his own bizarre head of hair. It was longer on one side than the other, still a little sparse over that temporal scar.

“Want me to try to straighten that up for you? While I’ve got my stuff out?”

“Hey, that would be great. You don’t mind?”

“I’d be glad to. John’s done here,” she said, whipping off the towel.

“Okay if I let your girl touch me with her scissors, Preacher?”

Preacher merely scowled and stood up from the stool. But he turned toward Paige and placed a small fatherly kiss on her forehead. Just in case there were any questions.

Then she put a hand on his forearm and looked up at him with adoring eyes. But Preacher seemed not to see it. Mike wondered if Preacher had any idea what was going on here.

“I’ll go see if Christopher is waking up,” Preacher said.

“Thanks. Then I’ll be in the kitchen to help.” And to Mike she said, “Next?”

He sat on the stool and she draped him with the towel.

“Ah, yes,” she said, “I can work with this. Does this still hurt?” she asked, gently touching the scar.

“No, it’s fine. But it seems to be having trouble growing hair.”

“I’ll fix you up. Let me take it a lot shorter, give you a chance to catch up over here. I promise, it won’t be awful. You’d look good with shorter hair.”

“Yeah, that’s what the Marine Corps thought. They thought I was cute as a button as a jarhead. Anything you do is fine. I appreciate it.”

“You must have been terrified, when it happened,” she said.

“I don’t remember anything. Instant lights out.”

“That’s good, I guess.” She snipped a bit, black hair falling to his shoulders and onto the floor. “I should thank you, I think. I know that John called you about my…situation. My ex-husband.”

“Ex now?” he asked.

“Yes, very recently. I don’t even carry the name anymore.”

“And I guess, if you’re still here—”

“I love it here. I don’t know when I’ve felt more…I don’t know, normal. And Christopher is so happy—he loves John so much.”

“It’s pretty clear how Preach—how John feels.”

“Is it?” she asked.

Mike laughed. “Okay, he’s not the most demonstrative, but you can bet I’ve never seen him act like this before. It’s pretty obvious.”

She picked up the mirror off the bar and handed it to him. “What do you think?” she asked.

“You’re gifted,” he said. “Anyone who can get a silk purse out of that mess should have her own chain of shops.”

“Not in Virgin River, I don’t think,” she laughed. “Besides, I love working with John.”

Unable to sleep one morning, Mike hoisted himself out of bed, iced down his shoulder and went outside with his 9 mm. He stood on the porch and lifted it with his left arm, peering over the barrel.

Jack came out onto the porch, dressed to go into town. “Is the wildlife in danger?” he asked.

Mike turned. “I think I should start perfecting the left hand. In case…You know. In case I don’t get it back.”

Jack shrugged. “Never hurts to know what you can do. But I wouldn’t give up on the right arm. Not yet. It hasn’t been that long, Mike.”

“It’s frustrating as hell. That’s all.” He holstered the gun. “There a place around here I can shoot?”

“There’s a range about thirty minutes from here just outside of Clear River. I’ll write down some directions for you.”

“You on your way into town?” Mike asked.

“Headed that way pretty soon,” he said. “I’m going to get Mel out of bed.”

“I’ll see you there,” he said, carefully maneuvering the steps and climbing into his SUV.

Jack stood there until Mike had driven out of the clearing. Then he pulled off his boots and left them on the porch. In his bedroom, he got down to his boxers and slipped into bed beside his wife, pulling her into his arms. “Hmm,” she said, snuggling close. She sniffed. “You’ve had coffee already.”