Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(28)



“Yeah,” she said. “Every once in a while I just get so lonely.”

“I know, Vanni. It’s going to be okay.”

“Dad’s worried about me coming out here to tell Matt about it.” She laughed uncomfortably. “He wishes I wouldn’t do this.”

“It’s okay to do this,” he said.

“I’m not brooding. Really. Sometimes I can’t think of anyone else to complain to.”

“You can always complain to me,” he said.

She turned around and looked at him; for a moment her eyes flashed. “And how am I supposed to do that? I hardly ever talk to you. I almost never see you.”

“I’m sorry, I meant to do better. I know I went missing for a while after leaving here. It’s complicated, Vanni. I can explain.”

“Any more complicated than losing a husband?” she snapped. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me just now. My God, you lost your best friend—I’m sorry. Paul, you don’t have to explain…”

“Yeah, I think I do. After we buried him and I stayed on for Mattie—I was kind of like a grenade with the pin out. I hadn’t unloaded, and man, I really needed to. I was a little out of my head, Vanni. I didn’t use the best judgment. I had to take a time out, some space—a few weeks. I had to get a grip on things, you know? And I didn’t want everything between us to be about grieving over Matt. There’s a lot more between us than that.”

“There is?” she asked hopefully.

“Well, Jesus, we delivered a baby together.” He rubbed a thumb along her cheek under her eye. “Sorry. My hands are so rough.”

“No,” she said. “No. Your hands are fine. Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?”

“Not half as much as I missed you. We’ve been through a lot together, you and me.” He reached for her hand. He couldn’t tell her now, here, in front of Matt’s grave with the general waiting right inside the house. “Go get cleaned up. Tom’s probably got a big date tonight, but I’m going to take you and your dad out to dinner.”

She smiled. “Anywhere special?” she asked.

“Your favorite bar and grill. I made a reservation.”



By the time Paul got the general, Vanni and baby to the bar, the few customers were finishing up their early meals and leaving. Tables were pushed together and the usual crowd gathered around. The April nights were still cold, so the fire was lit in the hearth. Jack divided his time between the tables and his favorite spot behind the bar. Paul drifted back there and said, “Look at your wife, my man. She’s almost more baby than woman. And she’s got a kind of wild look about her. Her cheeks are awful pink.”

“I know,” Jack said. “We just had a doctor’s visit—John Stone said if we turn her upside down we might see the color of Emma’s eyes. Stand back. She’s going to go early. I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to keep her still. I’d like to keep this one inside at least a couple more weeks.”

“She’s real animated. Kind of like Vanni was that day she made me watch the childbirth movie.”

“Yeah. I’m not experienced enough to know how early is too early. I thought about calling John…” Then he smiled at Paul and said, “I see you made it right down here. Good thinking. You make any progress with Vanni?”

That changed Paul’s expression. “When I drove up to the house today I caught her out at the grave, crying. I told you—she’s still on real shaky ground.”

“My advice—which, by the way, Mel says I am not, under pain of death allowed to give—is be sure you’re around when the ground stops shaking.”

“Jack, I should talk to you about a couple of things. This whole business with Vanni—it just keeps getting more complicated.”

“Yeah?”

“For one thing, I have some pretty stiff competition…”

“Oh, yeah? Join the club, my brother.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Mel’s husband was a doctor.”

“Yeah,” he said. “An E.R. doctor. A saver of lives who, by all accounts, was also perfect in every other aspect of his life.” He swallowed. “He was neat, smart, humorous and probably great in bed. A fucking god.”

“You didn’t stand a chance, intellectually speaking,” Paul said.

“I know it,” Jack said. “And yet…”

“I need to talk to you about a couple of things,” Paul said. “Maybe you’ll point me in the right direction.”

“Paul, you don’t need my input. You just have to tell her how you feel.”

He hung his head briefly. “I don’t think it’s gonna be that simple. I think I might come by in the morning. So we can talk.”

“Come by the house then,” he said. “I try not to get too far away these days. I haven’t been coming into the bar until a little later in the morning.”

When Paul sat beside Vanessa again, she looked at him with sparkling aquamarine eyes and he almost melted. His very next thought was how he’d probably see those eyes flash in pure rage when he unburdened himself. She had a fire in her, and he’d seen a hint of that earlier today, out by the grave. It caused a shudder to pass through him. Then he noticed her hand was resting on her thigh, right next to him, and he reached for it, holding it under the table.

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