Return to Virgin River (Virgin River #19)(12)

“The rest of the day. Here’s my number. Text me if you want to see it and I’ll send you the address. I’m only ten minutes from here just on the other side of 36. I heard you talking about what you want. It has a porch and a view.”

“I’m Kaylee Sloan. And you are?”

“Sorry,” he said with a laugh. His grin exposed one slightly crooked tooth in a sexy smile. “I’m Landry Moore. No wants or warrants. Mel might vouch for me—she cured my bronchitis two winters ago.”

“I think he’s pretty safe,” Mel said with a laugh.

“If I don’t see you later, I guess we’ll run into each other around town. Probably in here.”

“Thank you,” she said. “It’s very nice of you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “Good hunting. Mel, see you around.”

Once he left, Kaylee looked at Mel and lifted one brow. “I should stay away from his house. He’s pretty handsome. I suppose he has a wife and seven kids.”

“I think he has an ex-wife. No kids. He’s kind of a loner, but friendly when he turns up. I like him,” she said with a grin.





3



AFTER THE LUNCH crowd thinned out and Mel went back to her clinic, Kaylee ordered a Diet Coke, settled at a table in the corner and got out her laptop. She re-read those seventeen pages again. Then she wrote a page in the third person narrative about a woman looking for a new start in a small mountain town. It wasn’t exactly a journal but it also wasn’t exactly not. She needed to get words, any words, on a page. Anything to get those writing juices flowing.

At three she was sitting in her car in front of Gloria Patterson’s property management office in Clear River. After introductions and little conversation, they took Gloria’s car to look at rentals. The first one had a nice porch and view but was a wreck inside, wallpaper peeling off and old-fashioned linoleum floors that were all cut up from wear. The kitchen appliances looked old and unreliable. The next was all knotty pine inside and reminded Kaylee of smallpox. The third was very nice but it was a converted fishing cabin and therefore extremely small, just barely larger than Jack and Mel’s casita. There was no fireplace but there was a wood-burning stove and a small but decent galley kitchen.

“I’m going to have to sleep on it,” Kaylee told Gloria.

“No problem,” Gloria said. “If you have the time, I’m expecting a couple more rentals to come available in a few weeks.”

Of course she didn’t have a few weeks. She really didn’t have a few days. It would probably be home to Newport or the surrounding area and this whole notion of a change of scenery would be out the door. Maybe she could make the nice little converted fishing cabin work, buried in the woods though it was.

From her car, sitting in front of the property manager’s office in Clear River, she texted Landry.

If the offer is still open, I’d love to see your house.

It took only a minute before she could see the moving dots indicating he was writing. He texted back the address and she told him she put it in her GPS and would see him within the hour.

It only took her about a half hour to drive from Clear River, on a winding road that climbed up the side of a hill. She saw the houses, a big one and a small one not terribly far away. There was a path between them and the distance was about that of a city block. She knew it would be the smaller, plus Landry was standing in front of it, raking a flower bed that bordered the front of the house. Not only was there a porch but also a porch swing and a couple of chairs. She couldn’t help it—she took a deep and hopeful breath.

She parked in front and got out of her car. Now that they were both standing, she realized how tall he was. He was about six feet to her five-foot-four. He had light brown hair to go with his blue eyes, paint splatters on his boots and jeans, tanned forearms and, she couldn’t help but notice, broad shoulders and big hands.

“Does the house come with a gardener?” she asked, giving him a smile.

“If you want,” he said. “I was just trying to clean it up a little to make a good impression. I take it the Realtor didn’t have any winners?”

“Well, there’s one I liked.”

“Good, then look at this one and see how it compares.”

“So, tell me about this house?”

“I had been living in the city—San Francisco—but it was crowded and expensive and my dad was here, so I came up to stay with him for a while. It wasn’t long before I decided this was a better place for me, but I wanted my own house and shop. We built this little house together. We did it in one summer and I finished the inside in the winter. It’s not very big. It was meant to be a small one-bedroom house with a kitchen and a large shop in back. I make things. Sculptures and pots and artsy-fartsy things. I meant for it to be more of a shop than a house, but you know how plans are. I’d been here a few years when my dad passed away. I moved into his house, knocked out a bedroom wall and recreated the shop in the back of his house.”

“My mom passed away,” she blurted out and immediately regretted it. It was a reflex, that’s all. It was her life now, after all. She felt defined by it.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Thank you. And I’m so sorry about your father.”

“Thanks. I fixed up this house so it could be used if anyone came to visit, like family or friends, and moved into my dad’s house. I moved everything from my shop into my dad’s house and restored the guest room in the smaller house, but I never furnished it. So, it’s still small, but...”