Sunrise Point (Virgin River #19)(59)

“For the love of God,” she said.

Tom put down his spoon. His eyes became serious. “Listen, we have a situation. Her husband was one of my men, killed while he served in my command. She’s lonely. She’s nearby. She wants to come here… Why, I’m not entirely sure. It’s not like she eats apples or wants to bake pies. But she wants to come. Maybe the service is too good… .”

“I could get out the lumpy pillows and scratchy toilet paper… .”

“I tried to discourage the next couple of weekends but she’s planning to come even though I warned her she won’t get any attention. It’ll be apple-picking time. You told her you were going to fill the house up with old women and she still wants to come. I think, at least until she finishes this course in Davis, we’re stuck with her.”

“You’re not mad in love with her?” Maxie asked.

He shook his head. “I want to be,” he admitted. “She’s very pretty.” Sexy. “She seems smart and I gather she has a solid, functional family background, but…” But I haven’t had sex in so long I can’t even remember how…and I still can’t get excited about her coming for another visit… If she sprawled na**d on my bed, I probably wouldn’t be able to…

“Tom, can I say something about that? About that solid, functional family background? I don’t know where you got that judgmental streak or your almighty standards—maybe from your great-grandfather. Your great-grandmother was so open to possibilities, so nonjudgmental. When I stumbled into this orchard looking for work, I had come from a really rugged family—dirt-poor, had nothing, uneducated, didn’t know what the term emotional support meant—and your grandfather took an instant liking to me anyway. I’m sure because of that your great-grandfather refused to hire me on. But your great-grandmother did hire me—brought me into the house, into the kitchen to help with jam, ciders, pies and housework. Tom, I had a lot of what you young people call baggage, but your grandpa didn’t care. He said he loved me and wanted me no matter what my past had been like, no matter what load I was bringing along. That’s never been a secret in our family—that I had burdens. Your grandpa had to take on a lot to take me. Most people have a load to carry, Tom. So do you—look at your family history! You have some amazing family history and some of it kind of strange—like the disappearing mother. You know.”

“I know. You never heard from her again, did you?”

Maxie shook her head. “I would’ve told you. I’ve always told you everything.”

“Many family stories,” he said, very seriously.

They were both silent for a moment. Finally Maxie said, “You aren’t mad in love with Miss Picky Pants?”

He shook his head.

“Then stop kissing her!” Maxie demanded.

Tom grinned. “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

“You think I raised a decorated marine and made money on apples by missing things?”

Chapter Thirteen

It wasn’t unusual for busy married couples who had both children and careers that took more than the usual forty hours per week to do more communicating through phone calls, emails and during short breaks in the workday than at other times. So it was with Jack Sheridan and his wife, Mel. What was unusual was for Preacher to call Mel and ask her to drop in to the bar when things were quiet to have a chat with her husband.

“What’s the matter?” she asked when she got there.

“Nothing,” Jack answered. “Why?”

“Because Preacher asked me to come over if I wasn’t busy. He said you needed counseling.”

Jack grumbled and poured himself a cup of coffee. “He’s getting worse than an old woman.”

Mel stared him down for a minute, then she went to the door to the kitchen, pushed it open and said, “Preach, help me out here. I have a patient in a half hour and Jack doesn’t want to talk right now.” Then she went back to her stool.

Momentarily Preacher was standing beside Jack. “So,” the cook said. “You haven’t told her what’s wrong?”

“I don’t have anything to say!” he said with attitude.

Preacher faced Mel, and about that time Paige came into the bar, standing beside her husband. “About a week ago Luke brought a friend in for a beer. Old friend of Luke’s from Army days—an old Black Hawk pilot. Well, it turns out Jack and Coop, the friend, knew each other way back when. Some woman accused Coop of beating her up, Jack called the MP’s and Coop was locked up. But it turned out to be some kind of misunderstanding, Coop got out, Jack shipped out, the woman disappeared long ago and now what we have, with holidays and town parties coming up, is a little bad blood between the Riordans and Jack. A Riordan-Sheridan standoff over something that happened a long time ago with a lot of mixed-up details and facts.”

Mel was stunned silent for a moment. Her mouth hung open, her blue eyes were wide. Finally she said, “Huh?”

Preacher took a deep breath. Then he began again. “About a week ago…”

Paige put a hand on her husband’s forearm. She shook her head. “Not from the beginning, John,” she said. Paige looked at her friend. “Mel, about fifteen years ago a marine and a soldier were both at the same place at the same time. Your marine was friendly with a waitress who confided she had a bad relationship. Abusive, she said. You know Jack—he offered to help if needed. He gave her a phone number and a couple of days later, she called that number and left Jack a message that she needed help.”