Five
To Becca’s surprise, there was a welcoming party at Jack’s. Jack and Preacher were there, of course, but Becca hadn’t expected their wives. She recognized Paige from her first night at the bar and knew the other woman must be Mel, Jack’s wife, because Jack had his arm around her. And Rich, Dirk and Troy were there, too.
Denny carried her into the bar. Rich immediately separated himself from the group and said, “Here, gimme that fat old load.” Holding his hands out for Becca, he added, “Just one of the guys, huh, Becca?”
Mel said to Paige, “Isn’t it amazing how you can always pick out the brother?”
Denny obliged, transferring her into Rich’s capable, if rude, arms. “I’ll go get the crutches.”
“Thanks a lot, Rich,” she said. “You’re so sensitive and gentle.”
He hefted her in his arms and said to Jack, “Where do you want this.”
Becca whacked him in the head.
Mel came forward and put out her hand. “Hi, Becca, I’m Mel Sheridan. Please don’t worry about a thing—we’ve got you covered. Denny’s a good friend and his friends are our friends. Would you like to sit in the bar for a while, maybe have a sandwich and soda? Or are you ready for a little privacy and rest?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “One thing I should do is make a phone call, and my cell doesn’t seem to work here.”
“Very few people can get good cell coverage in the mountains,” Paige Middleton said. “But calling home is not a problem—we have unlimited long distance. You can make a call from my house anytime. Want to start right now?”
“Yes,” she said. “Richard, follow Mrs. Middleton!”
Paige led them through the kitchen and right into her living room. She patted the sofa. The cordless phone was beside it on the table. Rich put her down. “You all right?” he asked her.
“You care?”
“Well, sure, Becca. But you totally screwed up duck hunting.”
“Bite me.”
Paige cleared her throat. “I have a boy and a girl—is this what I have to look forward to? Never mind. Can I get you something to drink? A soda? Water?”
Becca sat on the cushy leather couch in the spacious living room in Paige’s house, her leg propped up on the ottoman. Curled up at the other end of the couch on his very own doggy blanket was a black-and-white border collie, whom Paige introduced as Comet. The dog gave her a wag and a lick and then went to his corner like a good boy.
Paige brought her a glass of water and told her to take her time on the phone. She thought for a moment before dialing. To her surprise, there was an answer.
“This is Doug Carey.”
She jumped in surprise. “Doug?”
“Becca?” he asked.
“I didn’t expect you to answer. I was composing a message to leave you. Where are you?”
“At the airport. I got an earlier flight and, since you’re not around, I’m heading out today. You did get a refund on your ticket, didn’t you?”
She’d never even bought the ticket out East. Of course, Doug wanted to buy the ticket, but she insisted. “A credit,” she lied. “I have a year to use it on any destination.” She made herself a promise—when this was over and she was home, reassured and waiting for that engagement ring under the tree, she’d tell him everything. “Do you have a second to talk?”
“We’ll be boarding in about ten,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“Well, I’ve had a little accident,” she said. “Nothing to worry about, but I broke my ankle and have a splint. I’ll be on crutches for six weeks.”
“Becca,” he said in a disapproving tone.
“I jumped out of my brother’s truck and landed wrong. So much for hunting and fishing.”
“Get a ride to the nearest airport and use that credit. Meet me in Boston, I’ll drive you to Cape Cod….”
“Well, here’s the thing. I’m stranded. Can’t travel. Can’t even drive home with Rich on Sunday. I have to get the splint taken off and the ankle checked by the doctor.”
“Why can’t you travel?”
“Aside from the fact that I can’t manage my luggage on crutches, you mean?”
“Becca, that’s what five dollar bills are for—skycaps.”
“Oh,” she said. “Of course.” Doug Carey didn’t schlepp bags. “Well, the main reason is that my leg has to be elevated so it doesn’t swell. And it would be very bad if it swelled under the splint. And I guess the danger of blood clots if I’m on a long flight or drive is a factor. Best to just wait for the all clear.”
“And then?”
“Well, I guess then I’ll get a flight home. Me and my five dollar bills…”
He actually laughed. “Only you, Becca.”
“Yeah,” she said. “What a klutz, huh?” Only a surfing champion with wicked good balance! “Listen, on the off chance you get some wild, insane urge to speak to my mother, please do not call her and tell her about this.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because she and Dad went to Mexico for the holiday and I don’t want them to worry or come back early. Just don’t.”
“It never occurred to me, but point taken. Dare I hope you got this out of your system?”
“This?” she asked.
“Hunting and fishing,” he said. “Will you be off crutches by Christmas?”
“Very close, but I’ll be cleared to travel much sooner than that.”
“Good. Because I just picked up a great Napa package we can use around Christmas—a vineyard tour. It was supposed to be a surprise, but since I won’t see you, I’m telling you now.”
Right then, Denny came into the room, carrying her crutches. He gave her a smile and pointed at them. She pointed at the floor by the couch.
And suddenly, even though one of them was in the room and one hundreds of miles away at an airport, she could see both men as if they were standing beside each other. Denny was wearing jeans, boots, a plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves and looked like a woodsman, while she knew Doug would be in dress slacks with a cashmere sweater, carrying his leather jacket in preparation for the cold Boston winter. The lumberjack next to the metrosexual.
“How does that sound, babe?” Doug went on.
“Great. Nice. Fun.”
“I have a list of all the tasting rooms—we’ll go over it before we even head that way. Decide exactly which vineyards appeal to us most.”
“Sure,” she said.
Denny put down the crutches and began to leave the room, heading back for the bar.
“There’s my call—we’re boarding. I love you, babe,” he said.
“Have a safe trip.”
“Becca. I said, I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said. But she said it quietly.
Not quietly enough. Denny paused, stiffened just slightly, then continued on. And she thought, Crap. I’m screwed.
Becca relaxed on the sofa for a while before she grabbed up her crutches and made her way to the bathroom. She managed just fine. A little slow, maybe, but she never put weight on her foot and didn’t fall, either. Surfing was better than skiing or ballet for balance.
Suddenly, she realized Doug never asked her where she was staying. Never asked if she needed him. His most immediate concern was whether she’d be able to travel when he wanted to take his Napa tour… She had a premonition of what life was going to be like—it was going to revolve around Doug. Of course. He was the busy one, the important one.
She sighed. Might be a good idea to cut her losses and shoot for spinsterhood.
She headed back into the bar. It was more crowded now than it was around the dinner hour. Troy separated himself from his friends and held out a chair at a table near the fire for her. She sat down gratefully and he quickly lifted her leg up onto a second chair, then leaned the crutches against the wall right behind her. “Thanks,” she said. “That’s more work than you’d think.”
He sat down at the table. A quick glance around told her Denny was not in the room. “Where’s Denny? Did he leave?”
“Out back,” Troy said, pointing toward the window. “I take it he spends a lot of time helping out around here.”
She turned and looked out the window. The day was bright and cold and Denny was splitting logs on a tree trunk, stacking up a nice pile of wood for the fireplace. She wondered if he was working off that “I love you” he’d overheard.
“He said these people are his family,” Becca remarked, watching Denny heft that ax and bring it down. He didn’t wear a jacket and the broadness of his shoulders made her long to be in his arms again. For just a little while. But the best view by far was that perfect butt. She believed he had a better butt than she did.
“So I hear,” Troy said. “How’s it feeling? The ankle?”
She looked back at him and gave him a thin smile. “Not so bad. You know what feels worst of all? I haven’t put any makeup on in about twenty-four hours. And I think there might still be mud in my hair.”
“You don’t need makeup, Becca,” he said. “You look great for someone who took a dive out of Big Richie’s truck.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “I guess I was in a hurry….”
Rich and Dirk wandered over to the table and pulled out chairs. “If you’re feeling all right, we’re going to get in a little hunting after lunch,” Rich said.
She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “By all means,” she said.
Denny came in the side door with an armload of split logs for the fire. “Don’t worry, Becca, I’ll stick around.” He crouched beside the hearth to stack the wood, ready for the fire.
“No, you should go. I’ll be fine. Especially if Mrs. Middleton doesn’t mind if I sit in her living room and watch TV.”
“She’s already offered full use of her house, so I’m sure she won’t mind, but I’ll ask. She’s making up sandwiches right now. What would you like to drink?”
“How hard is it to get hot chocolate?” Becca asked.
“It is not hard,” Jack called from behind the bar. “Anything we can do for the infirm!”
“Your friend Jack is a comedian,” Becca said. When she glanced at Jack, he was smiling appreciatively.
Within minutes the table was served, family style. A platter of sandwiches, a bowl of chips, a pitcher of cola and mugs, and Becca’s hot chocolate, along with Paige’s assurance that Becca was more than welcome to her couch and ottoman. They all crowded in; with Becca needing that extra chair to elevate her leg, it was a tight squeeze. And of course the ribbing began, starting with the lengths Becca would go to to get out of hunting, followed by the fact that she’d have to stay in Virgin River for over a week before being cleared to travel back home.
But soon, they were all pushing back chairs and standing to leave. All except Denny.
“For real, Denny, you can go. I can get around on my crutches.”
“I don’t know,” he said, frowning, shaking his head. “I told you I’d be around if you needed anything.”
“Well, I don’t think I’m ready to take on a flight of stairs, but otherwise I can manage, certainly for a few hours. I’m going to go back to the Middletons’ living room and zone out to Oprah or something.”
“Well…” he said, thinking. “We’ll go out in two trucks and I can come back early. You wouldn’t be on your own that long.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I don’t want to be a drag. This is your hunting party and I ruined it.”
“No, you didn’t, Becca. It was an accident.”
“Just go,” she said.
“If you’re sure?”
“Go,” she said again.
He gave her a little smile, then stacked up the plates on the table and walked them back to the kitchen. As he passed back through the bar, he said, “Paige said help yourself to the sofa, or if you’re tired and you want to lie down, their bedroom is on the ground floor and you’re welcome to it.”
Tired? She might die of boredom, but she wasn’t tired at all. She just smiled and nodded, waving him out the door. Becca was used to a very active lifestyle—chasing seven-year-olds combined with lots of sports from surfing to skiing. The last time she watched Oprah, she was home sick with the flu. The time before that, she was home sick with a broken heart.
She pulled herself up and with her crutches, hobbled through the kitchen door. Inside, busy with lunch and cleanup, was the Middleton family—Paige rolling out dough for pies, Preacher—or John, as Paige called him—scraping plates and filling the dishwasher, and little Dana in her high chair, messing around with Play-Doh.
“Are you absolutely sure?” Becca asked when Paige smiled at her.
“Absolutely. There are some DVDs if there’s nothing on TV that interests you. Check out the bookcase—you might not be interested in John’s military history but I have some fun stuff there. And please don’t hesitate to use the phone or our bed, for that matter, if you want to lie down for a proper nap. When I’m done here, I’m going to put Dana down for her nap. She needs a good two hours to be pleasant for dinner!”
“Will the TV bother her?” Becca asked.
“Not in the least. She’s a great little napper.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate this. Denny doesn’t have a TV or anything in his little apartment. He probably doesn’t spend too much time there.”
Paige laughed. “He’s a very busy guy. Not only does he work for the farm and around here, he’s always offering to help anyone who needs something.”
This time when Becca walked into the Middleton house from the kitchen entrance, she noticed how perfect it was designed. She walked through a spacious laundry room that undoubtedly serviced the bar and the family. To her left was a kitchen that was more of a serving center, complete with cupboards, dishwasher, refrigerator, sink, countertops and a pass-through to a dining room. But there were no stoves or ovens because the bar kitchen was just steps away. Just opposite the serving station and dining room was the master bedroom and bath, and beyond that the great room, complete with entertainment center, fireplace, locked gun rack and open staircase that led to a loft. The kids’ rooms must be up there—she could see a few toys scattered around. There was a door to the backyard from the great room. She peeked outside and saw a wooden jungle gym, slide and sandbox. To the far right, more behind the bar than the house, was a big brick barbecue and some picnic tables.
She paused in front of the bookcase in the entertainment center and found some old friends—Jill Shalvis, Kristan Higgins, Deanna Raybourn, Toni Blake. She pulled one out, tossed it across the room and followed it, causing the sleepy Comet to jump in surprise. “Sorry,” she said to the dog. The remote was easier—it was right on the side table. She got her leg propped up on the ottoman, gave Comet an apologetic pat on the head, turned on the TV to an afternoon talk show with the volume down, book in her lap, and thought again about what Paige had said. Denny’s a pretty busy guy. He helps anyone who asks….
He had a full-time job, even if he did say the farm wasn’t too busy this time of year. And he helped Jack around the bar all the time—that was probably a part-time job. And that was the Denny she had known and missed—the guy who was the friend you could depend on if you needed something.
He wasn’t going to be available to entertain her all the time, to keep her busy and her mind off the fact that she was bored out of her skull. She leaned back against the leather couch cushions and thought yet again, Oh, man, this is going to be so tedious! What was she supposed to do for two weeks? Watch daytime TV and reread her favorite romances? Nap? How in the world was she supposed to nap? She wasn’t the least bit tired. All she’d done for twenty-four hours was sit around with her foot up!
And that was the last conscious thought she had for a while. When she opened her eyes again, she blinked a couple of times. It was a different talk show and she had slumped down on the couch. There was a kid sitting on the sofa next to her. His backpack was on the floor and he was petting his dog.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked. “Because my mom said to be quiet.”
“No. No, not at all,” she said, pushing herself upright a little.
“I think you got a little drool there on your mouth.”
“Oh, Jesus,” she said, wiping her mouth. Sure enough.
“Oh, that’s okay. My mom does that all the time.”
“Does she? I bet you’re Chris.”
“Yup. And you’re Becca. What kind of name is Becca?”
“Short for Rebecca,” she said. “Are you just getting home from school?”
“Yup. And I have chores and homework. I’m not allowed to have TV on after school till the chores and homework are done.”
Becca fished around the couch until she came up with the remote and flicked off the TV. “That’s very smart of your mom. Mind if I ask about the chores? Like what kind?”
“I get the trash together, but my dad takes it out because the Dumpster is too tall for me. Sometimes I fold the napkins for the bar and when no one is sleeping on the couch, I run the vacuum around—Comet’s hairy. I have to let Comet out—I did that part already. My bed’s made—I did it this morning before the bus came. But I always look at my homework first, before the chores. Except Comet—he really needs to get outside right away.”
Becca liked that. “What kind of homework?”
“Math, spelling and reading. I worked on the spelling on the bus a little, but everyone was rowdy so I’m gonna have to do it again. I have to use my whole brain for the math. And I’m already good at reading.”
She smiled at him. “How old are you?”
“Seven. I’m in second grade.”
“Boy, do I have a surprise for you,” she said. “I’m a second-grade teacher.”
“In real life?” he asked.
“In real life. In my pretend life I’m a girl with a broken ankle.”
“From jumping out of the truck without looking where you were going?” he asked.
“Something like that.”
“Denny came back from hunting with a dead duck. He gave it to my dad and went down to his place for a shower. After he looked at you sleeping. He said if you woke up to tell you he’d be back when he smelled better.”
Her first thought was that he’d seen her drooling. “Nice,” she said.
“So he’s like your boyfriend or something?”
Becca thought about this for two seconds or less before changing the subject. “Since I’m a teacher and everything, want me to work on your homework with you? We could do math or spelling or you could read to me.”
“I like to read to myself, but I could use a little help with the math. We’re doing multiplying, which is like adding over and over and over.”
“In second grade?”
“Some of us got ahead of ourselves.”
“Totally. Where do you normally do your homework?”
“At the table over there.”
“Let’s go.”
“You gonna use your crutches and everything?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, dragging herself to her feet. “I have to put my leg up on a chair, so can I have the end, please?”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. You gonna do it by yourself?”
She balanced on her crutches. “Wait till you see how good I am at this.” She swung her way across the room, pulled out a couple of chairs, got situated and hoisted her leg up. “Ready for math!”
“You act like you like homework or something,” he said.
“Well, being a teacher and all…”
“Yeah. You prob’ly can’t get enough of it, huh?”
“There you go. Show me your books, Chris. I want to see what you’re working on.”
“Sure,” he said, unloading his books onto the dining table. “Try not to get too excited about this—it’s work.”
She laughed at him. “You know how I learned my multiplication tables? We had to write them out a hundred times when we got in trouble. But for me, it was fourth grade, not second. I think maybe you’re a wizard or something.”
“Well, I don’t want to write ’em a hundred times, no offense.”
“I understand completely. But it really works. Not that it’s what I’d call pleasant. Ah,” she said, opening his math book. “You’re working at fourth-grade math, just as I thought. Very progressive. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Well, I would be, except, it’s a lot harder to get an A on this math than at second-grade math.”
He was so right! It would be years before he’d appreciate having a teacher who had moved him along at his pace.
A half hour later, with Chris’s books spread around the table, Denny stuck his head in from the hall. “How you feeling, Becca?”
“Okay. You got a duck?”
“I got a duck. That lake was crazy with ducks this afternoon. Can I get you anything? Want a cola or hot chocolate or anything?”
“Cola would be good. Chris, do you get a snack after school?”
“I had it already. I get milk and whatever cookies my dad made. Today was peanut butter.”
“Hey, Denny. Can you snag me a milk-and-cookie snack? After all, I’m working on homework!”
Bring Me Home for Christmas
Robyn Carr's books
- A Brand New Ending
- A Cast of Killers
- A Change of Heart
- A Christmas Bride
- A Constellation of Vital Phenomena
- A Cruel Bird Came to the Nest and Looked
- A Delicate Truth A Novel
- A Different Blue
- A Firing Offense
- A Killing in China Basin
- A Killing in the Hills
- A Matter of Trust
- A Murder at Rosamund's Gate
- A Nearly Perfect Copy
- A Novel Way to Die
- A Perfect Christmas
- A Perfect Square
- A Pound of Flesh
- A Red Sun Also Rises
- A Rural Affair
- A Spear of Summer Grass
- A Story of God and All of Us
- A Summer to Remember
- A Thousand Pardons
- A Time to Heal
- A Toast to the Good Times
- A Touch Mortal
- A Trick I Learned from Dead Men
- A Vision of Loveliness
- A Whisper of Peace
- A Winter Dream
- Abdication A Novel
- Abigail's New Hope
- Above World
- Accidents Happen A Novel
- Ad Nauseam
- Adrenaline
- Aerogrammes and Other Stories
- Aftershock
- Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Can)
- All in Good Time (The Gilded Legacy)
- All the Things You Never Knew
- All You Could Ask For A Novel
- Almost Never A Novel
- Already Gone
- American Elsewhere
- American Tropic
- An Order of Coffee and Tears
- Ancient Echoes
- Angels at the Table_ A Shirley, Goodness
- Alien Cradle
- All That Is
- Angora Alibi A Seaside Knitters Mystery
- Arcadia's Gift
- Are You Mine
- Armageddon
- As Sweet as Honey
- As the Pig Turns
- Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign
- Ash Return of the Beast
- Away
- $200 and a Cadillac
- Back to Blood
- Back To U
- Bad Games
- Balancing Act
- Bare It All
- Beach Lane
- Because of You
- Before I Met You
- Before the Scarlet Dawn
- Before You Go
- Being Henry David
- Bella Summer Takes a Chance
- Beneath a Midnight Moon
- Beside Two Rivers
- Best Kept Secret
- Betrayal of the Dove
- Betrayed
- Between Friends
- Between the Land and the Sea
- Binding Agreement
- Bite Me, Your Grace
- Black Flagged Apex
- Black Flagged Redux
- Black Oil, Red Blood
- Blackberry Winter
- Blackjack
- Blackmail Earth
- Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire
- Blackout
- Blind Man's Bluff
- Blindside
- Blood & Beauty The Borgias
- Blood Gorgons
- Blood of the Assassin
- Blood Prophecy
- Blood Twist (The Erris Coven Series)
- Blood, Ash, and Bone
- Bolted (Promise Harbor Wedding)