Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(105)

“You’d better,” he said. He kissed her forehead, then leaned down to kiss the baby’s forehead. “I’ll talk to you soon, I’m sure.”

He went out front where the general and Tom waited, and Vanessa followed. He shook Walt’s hand. “Thank you for everything, sir.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “We’re in your debt.”

Paul gave his hand to Tom, then pulled him in for a hug. “I’m damn proud of you, son,” he said. “It was a hard thing, what you did. I hope it all works out okay.” And as Paul said that, the general patted his son’s back.

“Thanks,” Tom said, but he looked down when he said it. Then, raising his head, he said, “I’m going to miss you, man.”

“Yeah, me too, bud. Maybe I’ll get down here for graduation or something.”

“You know you’re welcome anytime. Standing reservation,” Walt said.

Paul nodded, picked up his duffel and suitcase, walked out to the road and threw them in the backseat of the extended-cab truck. He gave a wave and a toot of the horn as he drove off. He watched in the rearview mirror as Walt put an arm around Tom’s shoulders and led him away. But Vanessa stayed, patting the little bundle she pressed to her shoulder, watching as he drove away.

Maybe someday, he thought. Maybe someday.

Jack put the last of the boxes from the cabin into the back of his truck and leaned into the cab to blow the horn. Mel came out of the cabin and just stood on the porch, turning in a circle. She brushed a little imaginary dust off the arm of one of the Adirondack chairs. He shook his head and smiled. She was having a really hard time leaving, even though the new house was big and beautiful.

“Mel, come on,” he called.

“Coming,” she said. But she stood there a while longer. She was getting a nice little tummy on her now. She wore jeans, boots and a yellow sweater pulled down over her belly, her golden hair falling in thick curls over her shoulders and down her back. She was such a little thing; she could look like a pregnant teenager, standing up there like that. But as Jack knew too well, this was no girl. His woman was all woman.

He went to her because she wasn’t moving very fast. He took the porch steps in one long stride, lifted her chin and saw that she had tears in her eyes. “You going to cry again?”

“No,” she insisted.

He chuckled. “We own the place now, Mel. You’re not giving it up.”

“I’m just remembering,” she said. “Remember that night you brought me home and put me to bed after I’d had a couple of whiskeys on an empty stomach?”

“I remember.”

“And you left fishing gear for me to find when I woke up in the morning?”

“Yes,” he said, happy with the picture in his head of her wearing her brand-new waders and casting into the yard from the Adirondack chair. “I really thought I was going to get lucky that night.”

“You got lucky in that cabin more times than I can count,” she said. “David was born in that bed,” she said.

“Talk about getting lucky.” He laughed and pulled her into his arms. “Anytime you want to sneak out here and revisit the past, I’m your man.”

“I’m remembering how it was when I first got here—there was a bird’s nest in the oven.” She looked up at him. “You rebuilt this whole cabin for me—trying to get me to stay.”

“The second I saw you, I was doomed. I don’t know what would have become of me if you hadn’t stayed.”

“You’d have fewer children, I think. Jack, I had so many happy days and nights in this little cabin. My whole life was changed here.”

“And mine. Now come on, honey. We have a new house waiting.”

“Do you think we’ll be as happy in that new house as we’ve been here?”

He kissed her nose. “I guarantee it. Now, come on.”

With a heavy sigh she walked down the porch steps with him and got into the truck. She watched out the window dreamily as they drove through town and up the drive that had become her drive, feeling moody and nostalgic as though she was moving to another state when it was really less than a twenty-minute drive. She sighed again as she got out of the truck and walked toward the new porch, the new house.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Then, lifting her into his arms, he carried her into the house and stood just inside the doorway, holding her. It was fabulous—Paul had clearly outdone himself. The floors were shiny hardwood, the ceiling of the great room was vaulted and beamed, the new tan leather furniture that sat around the stone hearth was lush and inviting. He walked farther into the house, past a beautiful, huge modern kitchen, which he believed would be the center of many gatherings in the future. Silver appliances, black granite counters, dark polished oak cabinets and a long oak table that could seat ten or more.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

He carried her into a spacious master bedroom with king-size bed and large, man-sized bureaus. “Taking a little tour.” He pointed her toward the big new bed. “How do you like your new playpen?”

“Jack,” she said, laughing and tightening her arms around his neck.

He kissed her, a long, deep and lusty kiss. “I think we have time to christen the new house before Brie and Mike bring David out.”