Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(82)

“She more than needs you,” Mike said.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “She does.”

“You and Jack,” Mike said with a bit of a laugh. The two most unlikely candidates for domestic bliss Mike could think of. Jack, because he’d always had a woman somewhere, but never one that held his interest long enough for any kind of commitment. Jack used to say, “Me? Marriage? I highly doubt it’s possible.” And then Preacher, who seemed not to notice women existed.

“Jack,” Preacher said, shaking his head. “You shoulda been here for that,” he said, laughing. “Our Jack—Jesus, I hate to think the number of women he ran through, never lost a minute of sleep.” Preacher looked over at Mike, grinning. “Took Mel about thirty seconds to turn him into a big pile of quivering mush.”

“Yeah?” Mike said, smiling.

“Then it got fun,” he said. “She wasn’t having any of him.”

“Wait a minute—I was up here last year to fish with the boys. Looked to me like he had a lock on her. Next thing I hear, she’s pregnant and he’s going to marry her. I figured he finally ran into one that could trip him up.”

Preacher whistled. “Nah, it didn’t go down like that. Jack went after her like a bobcat goes after a hen, and she just kept dodging him. He rebuilt her whole cabin for her without being asked, and I think maybe it got him kissed. Sometimes she’d come in the bar for a beer and he’d light up like a frickin’ Christmas tree. And she’d leave and he’d head for the shower. Poor bastard. He was after her for months. I guess no one ever said no before.”

They used to all say yes to me, too, Mike thought.

“Now when you look at ’em, it looks like they’ve been together since they were kids,” Preacher said. Then more softly, “And that’s how I feel with Paige. Like she’s been in my life forever.”

Mike thought about that for a moment and then said, “Good for you, man.” Mike finished his drink and stood up. “I’m going to let you get back to your girl. I’ll make it an early night.”

“You sure, man? Because I think Paige is busy putting away Christopher’s gifts.”

“Yeah, I’m going to head back out to the cabin. Hey, dinner was fantastic. One of your best ever.” He carefully stretched out his back, then his arm. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow, I guess. Thanks for Christmas.”

Funny the way things work out, Mike thought. Jack and Preacher, two men who thought they’d never hook up, totally down for the count. Their women had them both in the palms of their pretty little hands.

Now Mike, he thought he’d hook up. Actually, he thought it would be automatic, which probably led him into marriage without him giving it enough serious thought. All his brothers had fat, happy wives and lots of kids. His sisters had made good marriages for themselves, added to the grandchildren. But he’d screwed up his marriages, thanks to that good old Latino prowess, that itch that has to be scratched real quick, without thinking about the consequences. Well, that was no longer an issue.

But he watched Jack and Preacher and had to wonder about how good it would feel to have someone in his life he’d die for. Damn, what a buzz that would be. He’d never felt that way about a woman.

He was glad, in a way, that it hadn’t found him. He’d hate to have a beautiful, sexy, devoted wife in his bed and leave her wanting. So—the bullets had decided. He’d be on his own from now on. One thing he had discovered, it was a little easier to be alone here than a lot of other places. There were loyal friends and the air was real good. If he kept at it, kept working and practicing, he’d be able to fish and shoot just fine with the left arm and hand.

When Jack was driving back to Virgin River, he got off the road right before they got to town. “Aren’t we going home?” Mel asked.

“One quick stop,” he said. Then he pulled onto that bumpy, narrow road that went up and up until it opened into a clearing with a view that went for miles.

“Why are we here?” she asked.

He reached in front of her and opened the glove box, pulling out a thick document. He handed it to her. “Merry Christmas, Mel. It’s ours. I’m going to build you a house right here.”

“Oh,” she said, a little breathless. “Oh, God,” she cried, tears coming to her eyes. “How’d you convince them?”

“It was easy. I told them it was for you. Do you have any idea how much this town loves you?”

This was what she’d dreamed of when she decided to come here—good country people who would appreciate her help. “They all mean an awful lot to me, too. Then there’s you…”

They sat in the truck for a long time, just looking out over the land, talking about the house. “A great room with a fireplace, a kitchen so big that your entire family can gather in it,” she said.

“A soundproof master bedroom,” he said.

“And master bath with two closets and two sinks,” she supplied.

“Three bedrooms in addition to ours, and maybe a guest house—a one-room guest house with a refrigerator in it, and a roomy bath. In case my father, you know—”

“In case your father what?” she asked.

“Ever needs a place with us. In his old age.”