That Holiday Feeling (Virgin River #8)(82)

“That’s our Annie,” Beau said. “Out tying one on.”

Nate laughed again. “Actually, she rescued eight orphaned puppies. Mostly border collie, we think. Cute as the devil. How many you want?”

Beau put a hand on his shoulder. “Pass on the puppies, my friend. But we got beer, Nathaniel. And seriously, we can give you stuff on her that will give you years worth of control. Power. Mastery. Don’t we, guys?”

“We do,” said Brad.

“Indeedy,” said Jim.

It was an amazing day for Nathaniel, though not exactly a brand-new experience. The venue was a little smaller and more crowded than his family gatherings, but the family interaction was pretty much the same as in his family. The men got a little too loud, the kids ran wild and had to be rounded up several times, the women had a little tiff about kitchen things like whether the bread should have garlic butter or not and whether the salad should be dressed or not. There was a lot of furniture moving to accommodate a dinner for seventeen. They needed the dining-room table extended, and two card tables. The youngest child present at dinner was three and the oldest fourteen, and they sat at the kid table, as it was known in both the Jensen and McKenzie households. Nathaniel felt at once a special guest and right at home.

The McKenzie boys had married well; their wives were attractive, fun, energetic, and there was a lot of family rapport—which always helped. The kids were mostly well behaved, just a couple of small problems that the mothers foisted off on the fathers. Mrs. McKenzie fussed over Nate in a welcoming fashion, maybe a hopeful fashion, showing her approval. Mr. McKenzie, whom Nate had only known as Hank for the couple of years he’d been practicing here, handed Nate his jacket and took him out to the front porch during the after-dinner cleanup. Hank gave him a cigar. None of the brothers joined them, so Nate knew this was the father-and-man-in-his-daughter’s-life talk.

Hank lit Nate’s cigar. “I don’t have a whole lot to say about this. Always got along with you just fine, so I don’t have any basic complaint,” Hank said.

“That’s good,” Nate said, puffing. Coughing. He smoked about a cigar a year and never remembered to take it easy.

“Just a couple of things I want to say.”

“I’m ready.”

“I like Annie,” her father said. “She’s good people.” He puffed. “Now that might not seem like much of a recommendation, but in my book, it’s the best there is. She’s just plain good. She’d never in a million years hurt a soul. But don’t get lazy on her, because she’s nice but she’s tough. She can hold her own if there’s some injustice, and she’s not afraid of a fight. And smart? She could’ve run this dairy farm single-handed, she’s that smart. That strong-willed. I offered it to her, too. Boys didn’t want it, so I said, ‘Annie, you could do it just fine, even if I dropped dead tomorrow,’ and she said, ‘Dad, if I stick myself out here with the cows, I’ll never leave and never do anything else and I think maybe there’s got to be more to my life. At least more people in my life.’ That’s what she said. So that’s how it was. She bought that beauty shop and I sold off the Holsteins. You better be nice to her.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“Don’t even think about hurting her, Nathaniel. I can handle about anything but seeing my girl, who I admire and respect, hurt.”

“I promise,” Nate said.

“Because if you do…”

“You’ll shoot me?” Nate asked.

“Aw, hell, why would I do that? I’m not a violent man. I’ll just spread the word that as a vet, you’re not worth a crap.”

Nate couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing.

“The boys, though,” Hank went on, “they’re a tad violent. When it comes to Annie. So be nice.”

Nate hadn’t had a lot of dates in the past couple of years, but in the past ten he’d had quite a few. When he was tending Thoroughbreds in Kentucky and then in Los Angeles County, plenty of women were attracted to him. Socialites, daughters of rich breeders, women he’d met at parties, on ranches, at races. He’d never been talked to by a father, however. Not even Susanna’s, not even when he’d given her a rock and carted her up to Humboldt County with the misguided notion of marrying her.

As father talks went, Hank’s hadn’t been stunning. But Nate liked it. It made him feel like a man with a job to do.

“It’s probably way too early to talk about intentions,” Hank said.

“No, sir, it’s not,” Nate replied. “I like Annie even more than you do. It’s my intention to treat her very well while we’re dating, and I think it might be a good match for both of us. I also think we might have a future, me and Annie. But you know what? She’s a smart, stubborn girl—it’s going to be up to her.”

“Yeah, I reckon,” Hank said.

“So. Could you at least wish me luck?” Nathaniel asked.

“You bet,” Hank said, sticking out his hand. “Best of luck there, Nathaniel. Try not to screw this up.”

“You bet, sir. Nice cigar, by the way.”

“Yeah, not bad, huh? Have no idea where I got ’em. One of the boys, probably.”

Nate wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think his own father had ever had one of these talks with his brothers-in-law or he would’ve heard about it. But right there, right then, he decided that if he ever had a daughter, he was going to do that. It was a good idea—take the young man aside, expound on the girl’s wonderful qualities, threaten his life a little. It had merit.