Temptation Ridge (Virgin River #6)(90)

Muriel chewed on that for a moment. “She must have been a remarkable woman.”

“She was,” Walt said easily. He reached over to her and grabbed her hand. “So are you, Muriel. A remarkable woman. It’s my turn to say it. You have to fulfill every ambition. I wouldn’t like being away from you, either. But I’ll be right here, rooting for you every step of the way. Proudly.”

She looked at him with absolute love, though neither of them had uttered such a binding word. Her eyes glistened and she had to purse her lips to keep them from trembling. Men had said wonderful things to her over the years, lavish compliments about her beauty and wit, but never anything like this. She blinked. She took a deep breath. Then she said, “Stop it. I don’t cry. Not unless the director says, ‘Cry.’”

Walt laughed at her and leaned over, sidling up against her and, with an arm around her shoulders, pulled her near. “Would you have to be naked in this one?”

“Briefly. Would that bother you?”

He grinned devilishly. “Not in the way you think.”





Fourteen




For the couple of weeks following Thanksgiving, things around Virgin River were far more hectic than usual and every hand was needed. It started with the erection of a huge Christmas tree between the bar and the boarded-up church. As Luke understood it, this was only the second year the town had put up such a tree, and it was a major project. Every available man was needed to chop it, haul it into town, stand it up and, with the use of a rented cherry picker, string the lights and decorate the highest parts. It was trimmed in red, white and blue and hung with gold stars and military-unit patches. It was meant to be a tribute to the men and women who stood the watch, and when Luke saw what they were doing, it made him feel, without a doubt, he’d chosen the right town. It was the first time he’d felt truly at home in years.

Right after the tree lighting, there were three new residences finished and three families to relocate before Christmas. Luke was more than willing to help.

Preacher and Paige had to be moved back into their new enlarged quarters behind the bar. Then Paul transferred his small family along with furniture into his house on the other side of the general’s stable. And finally, the Valenzuelas were moved into their new home next door to the Sheridans. Throughout this process, Brie was much in evidence, staying busy while she got ready for two major events—moving into her own new house and giving birth. A number of people watched over Brie protectively, making sure she wasn’t taking on too much. Mike Valenzuela was always within earshot of his wife and Jack kept a close eye on his little sister.

Brie had put the last piece of folded clothing in the last drawer when her first labor pain hit—two weeks before Christmas. Jack, almost as excited as if it was his own child coming into the world, told everyone who came in the bar that Brie had been in labor most of the day. Mike called him with updates. Whoever heard of a bartender reporting on centimeters and time between contractions? But Jack did.

That’s when things took a crazy spin that Luke allowed himself to be swept up in. Shelby was looking after Mel’s little ones so she could attend Brie in childbirth, so Luke happened to be at the bar when the call came that Brie was in the last stages of labor. The place came alive. “Mel says she’s getting close,” Jack reported. “Let’s go!”

Luke had no idea what was happening. He meant to quietly slip away so these people could live their lives, when Preacher called him to the kitchen and started snapping orders. “Luke, help me pack this stuff up. You can take the food so I can help Paige load up the kids. Jack will get some good liquor and cigars. Paige—call Paul and Vanni and tell them it’s happening. They’ll make sure the general gets the word.” Luke had no choice but to do as he was told; he boxed up what Preacher pulled out of the freezer, refrigerator and pantry—barbecue, buns, chips, pickles, creamy coleslaw, pie. He added salmon fillets, seasoned and ready to broil and a big container of rice and peas. A bag of premade salad and a big cheesecake. He saw Jack hurry past him with a box of liquor and cigars. It took only a few minutes before Preacher said, “See you out there.”

“Where?” Luke asked dumbly.

“Brie and Mike’s. We’re having a party.”

“A what?”

Preacher drew a patient breath. “Brie’s having the baby. We all go when there’s a baby, if it’s not the middle of the night. But they’ve barely moved in—I don’t know what they have for food and drink. I think there’s a little more than usual here. We can leave some behind.”

“Wait a minute,” Luke said. “Isn’t she in the hospital?”

“No,” Preacher answered, as if confused by the question. “She’s going to have the baby with Mel and Dr. Stone at home. Enough talking.”

So he went, and all the way there he was thinking, I hope they don’t make me get too close to this thing. He decided straight off, he wasn’t sticking around. This whole baby business wasn’t his cup of tea.

He found the house filled with people—Vanni and Paige were in the great room with small children—one in a swing, two in playpens, young Christopher on the couch watching an animated movie. Jack held David balanced on his hip in a kitchen full of men. Preacher was setting up pans on the stove, the general was mixing drinks and Paul was putting out small plates, napkins and utensils. Luke put down the large box of food and said he’d just get going.