by Robyn Carr
“That’s really thoughtful.”
“So…why do I get the impression you aren’t too happy?”
“Oh, sorry. Thank you, that’s so generous.”
“Katie!”
“What?”
“What about this idea doesn’t make you happy?”
Her eyelids fluttered closed as she looked down. She put her cup of tea on the porch and reached for his hand. “Let me ask you something, Dylan. Growing up, did you have a lot of half brothers and sisters?”
“You know I did. I told you all that…”
“Was there ever jealousy? Resentment? That kind of thing?”
“All the time.”
“Was it ever directed at you? I mean, you were a child star. Did any of your siblings resent that they were not the stars?”
He took a moment to answer, but not because the answer wasn’t on his lips. Where was this coming from? “Yes.”
“And so how do you think Andy and Mitch will feel about their younger brother or sister and the big trust to ensure his or her future?”
He was momentarily struck silent. Then in an effort to recover he said, “I could do it for all of them.”
She shook her head. “I think you’re under the impression that I’m poor. Oh, I’m sure I’m not rich by your standards, but Conner and I were left a very successful store. It was destroyed by fire but there was insurance money, the sale of commercial land and both of our houses, more than enough to resettle and rebuild. There’s some security there, though of course I’ll work. Between Conner and I, we’ll make sure the kids get everything they’re entitled to—all of them, not just one of them. And I get it, that one is your one. I get that. But really, you don’t want to do things to make him different. To make him, or her, enviable in his or her own family. In families everyone takes care of each other as much as possible.”
“Fine!” he said almost angrily. “I’ll give it to you! You take care of it. Spread it around any way you want to!”
She stared at him for a long moment. “That’s very nice of you,” she said. Her eyes got glassy. “I don’t know how I can possibly thank you.”
And then she stood up and went into the house.
He sat there, stunned. He had absolutely no idea what he’d done wrong.
He noticed that quiet slowly replaced the noise of the TV inside the little cabin. He heard the shuffling of the boys down the stairs as she herded them into bed. And her bedroom door closed.
Dylan was devastated. He’d spent days trying to figure out how to make this right, how to reassure her he was in this with her all the way. He was a responsible man and he adored Katie. He was terrified to tell her that, of course—she might ask him to get married and then what would he do? He wanted to, but he wasn’t quite ready. He thought he might be in a little while, once he worked into the idea. Probably by the time he’d finished that movie and had the airline on track and the trust set up, he’d feel ready, but right now, the whole idea scared him. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel like it—it just meant he wanted to be ready. She was only about a month, maybe six weeks pregnant. There was time.
His dad had sent him a ten-thousand-dollar check on his tenth birthday because he’d promised to take him to Egypt and had gone alone, or more likely with a woman, leaving him behind. Ten thousand dollars to a ten-year-old. A kite and a day at the park would’ve meant so much more.
He remembered his grandmother had been furious about that.
Dylan asked himself, had he just done that? Could Katie think that money was to make her go away quietly? Because it wasn’t! He wanted to take care of her! Them! He wanted to never lose her, them.
I’ve been thinking about it, he remembered saying. If the girl I want comes with a couple of kids, I can deal with that.
He sat down on the sofa and pulled off his boots, his belt, his shirt. He went to her bedroom, tapped softly a couple of times and entered. She slid over as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He could barely see her face, so he ran a finger along her cheek to the curve of her chin. “If you’re crying, I’ll hate myself forever.”
“I’m not crying, Dylan.”
“Katie, you need to be married to a man who has some instincts about this whole situation. And I don’t have any. Just when I think I have the one idea that will solve most of our problems, it makes you sad.”
“It’s not instincts you’re lacking, Dyl. It’s experience. You grew up in a household of this one and that one. There was a different group for every holiday and if I’m guessing right, a lot of jockeying for position. It can’t have been real nurturing.” He just shook his head. “We don’t have to do that, Dylan.”
“Katie, you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever known. My feelings for you are…” He couldn’t quite finish. “Strong. You have no idea how strong. I want to never lose you. But…”
“I know,” she said. “We still don’t have to make a life of spare parts and separate people, like a group home or something. We can still be one family.”
“And if I don’t know how that’s done, exactly?”
She smiled at him and put a tender finger against his lips. “Here’s a thought. I could trust you to fly the planes and you could trust me to do the mothering. Those things that I don’t do very well, fortunately you do. And those things you struggle with?” She shrugged. “I happen to understand.”
When he just scowled, drawing his eyebrows tight, she asked, “What?”
“And if it doesn’t work out for us, for you and me? I want it to always be like it is right now, but if for some reason it isn’t? Like if you come to your senses?”
She laughed softly. “I will still raise my children as a group, as a family, no matter what you choose to do. Now why don’t you make sure the bedroom door is locked and come in here beside me, hold me for a while, do something you know you have a talent for.”
He stood up and chucked his jeans, slipping in beside her with a big grin on his face. “I think we’ve just stumbled on an area of mutual success.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “Stop thinking so hard, Dylan. You’re wearing me out.”
Sixteen
Luke Riordan enjoyed a late-afternoon beer with Jack, something he treated himself to now and then. He occasionally took a break from tending his son and his cabins if his wife was at home. Shelby was a clinic nurse in Eureka and worked three ten-hour shifts every week, which left Luke to play househusband, including cooking. This was a good thing. Shelby liked to cook. She was miserable at it, but no one had the guts to tell her.
“You’re facing about three or four days of dinner by Shelby,” Jack teased.
“I might get her in here one of those days,” Luke said hopefully.
“I wish you luck. Are your cabins still booked?”
“Right up through fall. We have summer people—families and students and vacationers almost to hunting season, then we have hunters and fishermen through the holidays. Plus, a couple of my buddies are coming for a week this fall.”
“No kidding?” Jack asked. “And who might that be?”
“Just a couple of guys from army days. We haven’t been that good about staying in touch but every time we touch base, it’s like yesterday. You know what I mean?”
“I have a few like that,” Jack said. “They lifers like you?”
“No, short timers. Both were pilots, both got out at the first chance. One of ’em had some family store or something up in Oregon. The other one had a little bit of trouble in the army and our favorite uncle pretty much asked him to leave. Trouble of the disciplinary sort, if you get my drift.”
Jack laughed. “Have one or two of those, too,” he said. “Hunters?”
“As it happens both of them love to hunt. Fortunately for me, since I’m full of hunters during the season, it turned out the only time we could all get together was right before the season opens. We’ll get in some fishing at least. But I’d put these two in the house if I had to. They’re good guys.”
&
nbsp; “Let us know when you expect them and maybe we can round up a poker game or something,” Jack suggested.
“Deal us in,” Luke said, finishing his beer. “How’s my tab these days?”
“I think you owe me a great deal of money.”
“See you later,” he said with a laugh, putting a couple of bills on the bar.
He’d only been out the door a minute when he was right back inside.
“Wait till you see what just pulled up outside,” Luke said from the door. “I think it’s a limousine.”
“In Virgin River?” Jack asked. He came around the bar and went to the door and sitting in front of the bar was an oversize, cream-colored town car trimmed in gold with a driver in a black suit holding the back passenger door open.
“That a limousine?” Luke asked.
“Sort of. Not really,” Jack said. “Fancy town car with a chauffeur.”
A small woman got out of the car. Even Jack could tell she was dressed to the nines but he couldn’t guess her age. Older than she looked by the way she moved, he thought. Her short hair was blond but almost gray; her face was soft and smooth-looking but had a look of experience, especially around the eyes. She walked to the base of the porch and asked, “Are you the proprietor, sir?”
He gave a slight bow, then stepped down from the porch to meet her on equal ground. The little thing was probably five foot one in her shoes. “I’m Jack Sheridan, ma’am, and this is my bar.”
“Charming little place,” she said with a smile. Her teeth were perfect and healthy. “I bet you have a wonderful time!”
“Just a simple place, ma’am. Would you like to come inside?”
“I’m going to have to make it another time. I’m looking for my grandson and perhaps you know where I might find him. His name is Dylan Childress and I believe he was last seen around here.”
“I know Dylan,” Jack said. “I bet you’ll find him at his lady friend’s cabin. In fact, it’s my cabin which I lease to his lady friend and chances are—”
“Ah, yes, the lady friend,” she said with a tilt of her head. “I heard there was a lady friend, but we haven’t met.”
“He’s been seen around with Katie Malone,” Jack said. “She’s a newcomer here, but we love her already.”
“What a nice recommendation. Can you tell Randy how to get to that cabin?” And she nodded over her shoulder to her driver. On that signal alone, he stepped forward.
“Easy enough,” Jack said. “Go back out 36 almost exactly two miles. Right turn at a dirt road…not the best road, either. Go about two and a half miles back up the mountain until you come to a mailbox and newspaper drop. Take a left down the drive right up to the house. It’s a small A-frame in a large clearing. Dylan and Katie’s brother erected a jungle gym in the clearing for her kids and there are a couple of Adirondack chairs on the porch.”
Randy nodded but the lady looked surprised. “She has a family?”
“Twin boys, five years old. I didn’t catch the name, ma’am.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me! Adele Childress and please, just call me Adele. It appears as if I’ll have to enjoy your public house another time, Jack. Right now I’d like to see Dylan.”
“But I want your promise that you’ll be back,” Jack said good-naturedly.
“Absolutely! It looks charming.”
And then she let Randy help her back into the car. In a moment, they were pulling out of town.
Luke whistled. “You don’t see that every day.”
“No shit,” Jack said.
“You aren’t going to call him, are you?”
“I should,” Jack said. “I have a feeling this will come as a surprise. If he’d been expecting her, Randy wouldn’t have needed directions.”
“Yeah, but don’t,” Luke said with a decidedly evil grin. “I mean, come on. Can’t we have a little fun?”
“Give it up—you won’t be there to see it. Think of Dylan!”
“Yeah, who is Dylan?” Luke asked.
“The grandson of Randy’s boss!” Jack said, heading back into the bar.
Dylan was just a little self-conscious about how easy it was to chill him out. A little romp in the sack with Katie and all his rough edges and worries were smooth and soft. But he was only a little embarrassed by that because he was cognizant of how simple it was to soothe him, and no one had ever soothed him like Katie could. Suddenly all the problems and complications of the earlier days seemed unimportant. As he sat on the porch watching the boys on the play set, feet up on the rail, hat tilted over his eyes, he thought, Nice—I have a woman with my bun in her oven, she loves me, she’s going to keep me on the right path.
He heard the phone in the cabin ring, heard Katie answer. Then she was at the door. “Dylan? It’s Jack Sheridan and he’d like to speak to you.”
“Keep an eye on things out here, will you?”
“Sure,” she said. “Oh, God, Dylan—the boys are upside down again!”
“They’re fine,” he said. “They prefer to be upside down. I’ll be right back.”
A few moments later he was back on the porch, but the expression he wore was odd. He looked puzzled and maybe unhappy. “I’m not sure there’s any way to prepare you for this…”
And just as he said that, a long and classy Lincoln town car pulled into the clearing. It looked like a modern version of Cinderella’s coach.
“Dylan?” she asked, standing from her chair.
The uniformed driver jumped out and went to open the back passenger door. Adele Childress stepped out. She was wearing cream-colored slacks that matched her car, low heels, a cinnamon blouse with a silk scarf under the collar and around her neck, the color of her slacks. She wore a gold chain belt and matching necklace. Her hair and makeup were perfect. Dylan smirked. This was her going-into-the-mountains attire.
Katie ran her hands down her pants, which were jeans with a short T-shirt that exposed her flat belly and navel.
“You look great,” Dylan said to Katie.
She ran her hands over her hair at her temples, patting it into place.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her. “Don’t be intimidated by flash.”
He crossed his arms over his chest as Adele approached the porch. Unlike Jack had done by stepping down from the porch, Dylan held his ground.
“I would have called ahead, but you haven’t answered any of my texts or voice mails or emails,” she said.
“Because as I explained, I was going to be out of cell contact for a few days and would be back in touch when possible.”
Katie whacked him on the shoulder and bounded off the porch steps. “Hi. I’m Katie Malone,” she said. For a second she was flustered, wondering whether to curtsy or shake hands. She put out her hand.
“It’s a pleasure, Katie,” Adele said, taking her hand. “Adele Childress. How wonderful to meet you. And those must be your sons.”
“Mitch and Andy,” she said. “Boys. Come and say hello to Dylan’s grandmother, Mrs. Childress.”
They seemed to climb down from the jungle gym a bit reluctantly, approaching warily.
“Are they shy?” Adele asked.
“Not in the least,” Katie said with a laugh. “Maybe they’re afraid they’ll get you dirty. And I’m sure they’ve never seen a car like that.”
“How in the world do you tell them apart?”
“It comes with time. Dylan can tell the difference. Would you like a glass of tea on the porch?”
“That would be lovely, Katie.” She turned to look at her driver. “Randy?”
“I’m fine, ma’am,” he said, going to the trunk which produced a cold drink.
Katie bent at the waist and focused on her boys. “Say hello, boys.” One at a time they said a very quiet “hello.” Then they began to back away, making Katie laugh. “Go ahead, you can play. Come up on the porch, Mrs. Childress. I’ll get you a cold tea.”
As Katie went inside and Adele stepped onto the porch, Dylan threw an arm w
ide, indicating the chair he had just vacated. She sat down and said, “Thank you, dear.”
“My pleasure,” he said. Then he jogged down the porch steps and into the clearing where he grasped the driver’s hand in a firm and welcoming handshake. Then he was back to the porch. “Now,” he said to his grandmother. “What are you doing here?” He leaned a hip on the porch rail and folded his arms against his chest again.
“Wouldn’t I welcome as hearty a greeting as the chauffeur received,” she said, indignant.