A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River #4)(35)

Drew’s voice became fatherly. “And if he doesn’t want to tell you the things you want to know? You’ll thank him politely and come home?”

She should’ve answered more quickly. It took her two long seconds before she said, “Of course, Drew. He’s a good person. I don’t want to hurt him. I’d just like it if he told me some things about my husband, about his situation. But if he won’t, I’ll leave him alone.”

“Erin’s going nuts,” Drew said. “She’s on the verge of frantic. If she weren’t so controlled all the time, she’d be biting her nails and tearing at her hair.”

“I tried to call her. Tell her that—I tried to call her, but she’s in court so I called you.” She smiled to herself—great family negotiating! She hadn’t really called Drew because Erin was in court, but because talking to Drew would feel good. “You can tell her everything—and that I’ll call again in a couple of days. Okay?”

“Something about this isn’t really—”

“Everything is better than I imagined,” she broke in. “I’ll be back in touch and, in the meantime, try to get Erin on some medication. Really, I hate carrying around the burden of her worry. I want to get done what I want to get done. It’s why I came up here.”

Drew sighed. “I know,” he said. “I understand, even if I don’t love it.”

She laughed softly. “Go back to class. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

“Love you, pet,” he said.

“Love you, baby brother.” And she hung up the phone.

She sat quietly for a moment, relaxed in the soft tan leather of the chair. They didn’t really understand what this had to do with her, but God they loved her enough to care what was happening, to be a little afraid she was making a mistake in putting herself in this strange man’s care. Erin’s love could be sometimes overbearing, based as it had so often been with concern, but balanced with Drew’s boyish good humor she knew how lucky she was to have them. Without their love, she would be so empty inside.

They had no idea how much she missed them, how much she wished she could be home with them just sailing through the holidays as though nothing was missing. And this Christmas, it wasn’t just that Bobby was missing; she’d already had her first Christmas without Bobby. Ian was missing, too—and she had to put all that together.





The bar was full of women, at least twenty of them, when Marcie stepped through the kitchen door. They had baskets, boxes, tins and large platters covered in plastic wrap laid out on the tables. They held mugs of coffee and tea and chattered happily. Marcie stood in the doorway looking into the room. This would be the women’s thing that had been spoken of; this would preclude her sitting in the bar until Ian could return for her. She’d have to find something to do. “There you are,” Paige said. “You must have had a nice chat with your sister.”

“Um, I couldn’t reach my sister so I called my brother,” Marcie said.

“You have a brother, too? Oh—you’re so lucky. Are you close with them?”

She willed herself not to get teary. “Very,” she said, giving a nod.

“How wonderful.” Paige reached for her hand. “Come and meet some of the women,” she said, pulling her along into the room. “This is their Christmas cookie exchange. Some of these women are world-class bakers—but don’t tell John. He thinks no one can outbake him, but believe me, they’re incredible.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t intrude….”

“Don’t be silly—you’re completely welcome. Unless…I mean, if you have somewhere to go…”

All she could do was shake her head. “It’s just that…Of course I have no cookies.”

Paige just laughed. “Neither does Mel. Mel can barely boil water. I made my cookies in the bar’s kitchen, and so did Brie, but Mel just said ‘Oh, the hell with it—there’s no use pretending.’”

Right at that moment, from across the room, Mel spotted Paige and Marcie and came right over. “Oh good, you came to town! This has to beat sitting out at the cabin by yourself. And what a great morning to be here—you can meet some of the neighbors. And don’t hesitate to sample. How about some coffee?”

“That would be so great,” Marcie said. “It’s just that I feel like I might be a party crasher.”

“Not in this town,” Mel said with a laugh. “People are always happy to meet someone new. Otherwise it’s the same old faces.”

Paige pressed a cup of fresh, steaming coffee into Marcie’s hand and then Mel pulled her into the room full of women. Marcie made the acquaintance of many—Connie, who ran the town store, Joy who managed the library, Hope McCrea, whom she recognized from the tree-trimming, Lilly Anderson and her daughters and daughters-in-law. Lilly wore a knitted stocking cap pulled tight over her head and Marcie couldn’t help but notice dark circles under her eyes, yet her smile was so warm and full of life. When Mel pulled Marcie away she whispered, “Chemo. She’s lost her hair.”

“Oh, how sad.”

“She’s fighting hard—don’t be sad.”

“Did you just tell a medical secret?” Marcie asked.