Temptation Ridge (Virgin River #6)(117)

There was a long period of silence. “Do you think everyone knows?”

Vanni was shaking her head. “No one knows you like I do. And remember, I know him, too. Lucky guess. Plus, I was in Grants Pass. Abby, you’re going to have to deal with this. Does he know?”

“It didn’t take him long to guess,” Abby said. “Just exactly what I was hoping to avoid.”

“Well, kiddo, that ship has sailed. How in the world did this happen?”

Abby shrugged. “He was alone in the bar. So was I. We spent a couple of hours, just the two of us, talking. Laughing. And my head was so screwed up, I let myself be coerced upstairs to his room. I never meant that to happen. It was a mistake.”

“I don’t know about that. Sounds like it could have been fate. So, what’s the plan?”

“He doesn’t think it will raise many eyebrows if we become friends, get to know each other a little bit. But, Vanni, you have to understand something— I’m not diving headlong into another relationship with someone I don’t know very well. It’s going to take time and it may not end up being the fairy tale you’d like it to be. We were two disappointed, needy people that night. That’s all. In a practical relationship, I’m not sure we have that much in common.”

“Hmm, I can think of a couple of things.”



When Walt got to Muriel’s house, the dogs rushed to him, but Muriel didn’t. He found her sitting at her kitchen table with a notepad and glass of wine. He hefted his sack. “I brought you meat loaf and garlic mashed from Jack’s.”

She looked at him across the cheerful kitchen and said, “I’m doing it, Walt. I’m going back to L.A. to work.”

When he thought about it, he’d expected this. She was enchanted with the script from the moment she read it. And he knew she wouldn’t sell out, so it must have come together in a way she thought was worth her time and effort. He put the sack on the counter and went to the cupboard and got down a glass and that special bottle of Pinch she reserved for special occasions, pouring himself a drink. Then he sat at the table across from her. “Tell me about it.”

“I probably should have talked to you about it sooner, when it started to look like it was going to work to my advantage. But I try not to get stupidly optimistic about possible deals. For just about the first time, it turned out I was the last holdout. The actress waiting in the wings for the part was Diane Keaton. It’s a good part, Walt. A good opportunity.”

“Why don’t you seem happy?”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t how I thought I’d spend the next six months. It’s going to be a lot of hard work. And later, when the film is out, there will be promotion—that’s also a lot of hard work. And none of it can be done here. I’ll be in L.A. for some of it and on location in Montana in spring and early summer.”

He took a bolstering drink and then reached for her hand. “We’ve been over this, Muriel. If you feel strongly about doing the film, I’m behind you. If you have worries, I don’t want one of them to be me.”

She smiled a small smile. “I have to leave tomorrow to begin rehearsing.”

“Tomorrow?” he asked, shocked. “My God! Should you be packing?”

She shook her head. “No need. I just have to get together my cosmetics. I can take the dogs with me—I had them put it in my contract that I’ll have help with pet care. They’ll send someone to stay in the guesthouse and take care of the horses. And—”

“Why don’t you need clothes?” he asked.

“I have a place in Los Angeles. A small but very nice condo. I left behind a full closet—those clothes wouldn’t work for me here and the clothes I wear around here won’t work for me there. I figured in a year or so I’d empty the place out and either rent or sell it, but now it’ll come in handy. I’ve let a couple of friends use the place for visiting relatives, so it hasn’t gone to waste.”

“You never even mentioned it,” he said, and for a moment he was grateful for that. If he’d thought all along that she still had another home, he might not have been so optimistic about their chances.

“Really, I didn’t think I’d ever use it unless I was in L.A. visiting or something…”

“Muriel, are the dogs going to be a problem while you’re making this movie?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll have some long hours, but the studio will make sure there’s someone assigned to walking them, feeding them, all that. I just won’t get to run Luce or train Buff like I’d planned to.”

“Let me keep them for you. Let me take care of the horses.”

“Walt, I can’t ask you to—”

“You didn’t ask, Muriel. Really, it’s selfish. I don’t want to think of someone else living in that bunkhouse or the dogs pooping on concrete somewhere when I can run them along the river. Besides a little babysitting, what do I have to do? Shelby’s gone, Vanni and Paul have their own place, I take care of horses every day anyway…”

“It’s a lot of bother, Walt.”

“I offered. No strings,” he added. “I didn’t offer so that you’d feel obligated to me in any way. I mean, who knows? Jack Whatshisname might turn out to be just what you’ve always dreamt of.”