by Robyn Carr
Now at the ripe old age of twenty-five she lived more comfortably than she ever had, and so did her kids, four-year-old Trevor and eight-year-old Danielle. Ellie rented a lovely, but tiny, room over the Fitches’ garage. For the time being, her kids stayed downstairs in the big house with Jo Ellen Fitch and her husband, Nick. Ellie got the kids up in the morning and put them to bed at night. She had a wonderful friendship with Jo and Nick, and if life went on like this forever, she wouldn’t dare complain. But just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she fell in love with Noah Kincaid, the local minister, an amazing and wonderful man.
Noah, now her fiancé, had been in search of a house where they could live like a real family. It was only right, she knew. As it was, he was creeping into her rented room more nights than not, and this really wasn’t the best behavior for the town pastor. Noah didn’t fret over that and, this being Virgin River, Ellie assumed everyone knew everything; they probably just didn’t say anything in front of them.
Right before the church service this Sunday morning, Noah whispered that he had a house for her to look at. “It’s not much,” he said, “but it’s in our budget and it might be redeemable. I just want us married and all under one roof.”
Bless his little heart, Ellie thought with a flood of warmth. When a girl is looking for a passionate man, common sense would say that she doesn’t go looking for him in a church. But what she had learned from Noah was that men with passion and commitment don’t limit themselves to one single agenda—their passion, commitment, honor and courage will permeate all the facets of their lives.
Noah loved her passionately and he made her whole; he made her life full.
Their service that morning showcased the Virgin River Presbyterian church choir’s very first performance, accompanied by Ellie and her rusty piano skills, and it was just short of horrid. But in this town people were so supportive of one another, they actually stood and clapped. It made her flush, but she was just happy to be through it. Then after some coffee and cookies in the church basement, Noah spirited her away. He said it was best to send the kids home with Jo and Nick so they could view this potential house alone.
It wasn’t far from the church—just on the edge of town, past the established neighborhood. They were in Noah’s old truck and he pulled off to the side of the road where the weeds had gotten tall and the shrubbery overgrown. He turned toward her. “Ellie, if this isn’t right, we’ll just keep looking. Be warned, it needs a lot of work. Here’s what’s good about it—it’s large, even if it is in disrepair. It has a big piece of land under it, not a small yard. It’s not in the middle of town, but it’s only a half mile away. It has a huge kitchen…” He paused and cleared his throat. “A big kitchen without a single working appliance, but that’s just fix up. And—”
“Noah, how did you come across this house?” she asked.
“Oh, Buck Anderson knew someone who knew someone who’d been renting the place out for years but only because he couldn’t get rid of it. He said if I was clever, it could go cheap. I don’t know if I’m clever with negotiating a price, but I’m okay with a hammer. And we might not be as settled as we should be, but we get by thanks to Jo and Nick. I saw some promise in it and thought I’d show you before I write it off.”
“Good idea, Noah. Because I am clever with money, you lucky dog. I’ve had to be.”
He grinned his handsome grin. “I haven’t once complained about your assets, have I?”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “In the beginning, you did nothing but complain.” She patted the other cheek. “You’re coming along very well, though. Now, come on—the suspense is killing me.”
“I just hope seeing it doesn’t do any permanent damage to your opinion of me.” He put the truck in gear and took them down a short overgrown driveway to a house that had the washed-out, gray appearance of worn paint. It was surrounded by a totally neglected yard that was dominated by weeds, out of control bushes, rotted-out flower beds, untrimmed trees, cracked sidewalk and copious litter. There was no telling the age; it could be older or younger than it looked. It was a wreck.
It was a two story and it had a porch that stretched the length of the front of the house and a front door that was probably worth as much as the whole structure. Ellie was surprised it hadn’t been ripped off and stolen—it was a stained and polished dark wood with a beveled-glass window. It was a breathtaking door on a nightmare of a house.
Wordlessly, Ellie got out of the truck and went to the house. She got the heel of her shoe stuck in a rotting board on the porch, but she gamely pulled it out and kept going.
The inside opened up into a very large living room that was adjoined by an equally large dining room. Both rooms had filthy fireplaces, suggesting the house was old and had been constructed before central heating. Also, it was built before the days of family rooms and foyers. She walked right into the middle of everything. It was very large and the ceilings were high. The two rooms were divided by an ornate wooden arch that had been sloppily covered with many layers of white paint. In fact, the whole house had been painted in a cheap coat of renter’s white that hadn’t held up well.
The staircase to the second floor was right between the two rooms inside the front door and, again, cheap paint had been used to cover a banister that was undoubtedly real wood. The staircase led up to the second floor and an open balcony that ran along a hall leading to the bedrooms. This old style had gone out of fashion many years ago—it reminded Ellie of the saloon in the Gunsmoke series. She could almost see Miss Kitty poised at the top of the staircase.
She walked through the trash-strewn rooms toward the back of the house. Behind the living room and dining room she found a large kitchen and a small bedroom. “There are three bedrooms upstairs,” Noah said. “One’s pretty big and two are average. There aren’t any big closets and only one bathroom in the house—it must have been built in the days of one-bathroom homes. But there’s a back porch that’s wide and deep and can be closed in. And it might even be possible to put a half bath downstairs. And the bonus is an unfinished basement. Well…a cellar. But there are so many possibilities for that.”
Ellie ignored him, heading into the kitchen. It was the largest kitchen she’d ever been in, and Jo Fitch had a very big kitchen. The appliances looked not only useless but maybe dangerous. However, there were many cupboards and a big bay window. She could envision a large oval table sitting right in that nook; she could imagine friends coming for dinner and children doing homework there while she cooked. Ellie had never dared have such visions before.
Through the bay window Ellie could see the side yard, deep and surrounded by trees and overgrown brush; outside the window over the kitchen sink was the porch, which, as Noah said, could be enclosed to make another room. Beyond that a long, wide backyard went right up to the forest. She spotted blackberry bushes, all gnarled and thorny. She could almost taste the jam…
She put the fingers of both hands over her mouth and her eyes welled with tears, which quickly spilled down her cheeks.
“Aw, baby, don’t cry,” Noah begged, pulling her into his arms. “It was just an idea, but we’ll look at lots of houses. I just got hooked on the size of the house and lot, and my imagination might’ve gotten a little—”
She turned in his arms. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispered. “Noah, it’s wonderful. I mean, it needs love, but isn’t it perfect? Is it stable? Will we fall through the floor if we go upstairs?”
He was shocked silent for a moment. “Are you serious?”
“About the second floor?” she asked with a hiccup of emotion.
“I’ve been upstairs,” he said, shaking the confusion out of his head. “You actually like it?”
“It would be so wonderful to fix it up and make it ours, wouldn’t it? Did you see all the terrible paint in this place? I bet if I stripped the paint off the arch that divides the rooms and off the staircase and banister we’d find beautiful
wood. And the yard? I can make that yard look like Jo Ellen’s yard! Give me a year and I can turn it around.” She sniffed, took a breath and said, “Thank God it’s almost winter—I don’t think I could face both house and yard at once, but by spring…”
“Ellie?” he asked, stunned. “You like it?”
“Noah, whoever owns this house lost interest in it years ago. You can’t think of renting it and fixing it at the same time—that’s where the owner lost control of it. My gramma and I did more with our two rooms than was done here, and we had nothing. Either we make a commitment to it or forget it. But first we have to have the plumbing and wiring and structure checked. Does it cost the moon to do that? Because we should check that before we even think of putting down good money.”
Noah grabbed her suddenly and pulled her against him. “Ellie,” he whispered, burying his face in her neck. “I didn’t realize how much I hoped you’d see the potential in this old thing. It’s a horrible mess—no woman in her right mind would—”
She laughed and sniffed at the same time. “Lucky for you, you got a woman with no right mind. Noah, be honest now, are there things you like about this old house besides the price?”
“The same things you like,” he said. “The big rooms, the big yard, the wide porches, the real wood. I can get Paul Haggerty to check it out for structural competence and the other stuff before we get emotionally moved in. We can try to sell the RV—that’ll give us some fix-up money.”
“Noah, I want to work on it. Really—I’m good at this stuff. It might take a while if I’m needed at the church and helping the kids with all their school stuff, but I know how to make something good out of a falling down piece of—” She stopped herself and smiled. She’d been trying to stop cursing in deference to her fiancé the preacher. So she whispered, “Really is a piece of shit, isn’t she?”
He laughed loudly. “Totally,” he agreed. “But she has so much promise.”
“All kinds of promise.”
“Ellie, I’ve been wanting to ask a question. It’s not a real big issue with me, but I still should ask. You can say no and it won’t make a difference, but just in case—”
“For God’s sake, Noah! Spit it out.”
He took a breath. “How do you feel about more children?”
“Why?” she asked.
He struggled for a moment. “Well…because if you wanted more…I could be talked into it…”
She punched him in the stomach. “Never lie to me like that. Do you want a baby of your own, Noah?”
“I’m nuts about Trevor and Danielle and I want to adopt them if we can work that out, and I think we can, but, yeah—if I could have one with my receding hairline and bowed legs—”
She laughed and ran her fingers into his overlong, curly dark hair. There was a strand or two of silver; Noah was thirty-five. “Oh, what I’d give to have a little girl with your dark curls,” she said. “And your legs are better than mine.”
“No one’s legs are better than yours,” he said. “Did you ever think about another one?”
“I’ll think about that. Not right away, Noah. I have house problems and adoption problems to deal with first.”
“Not to mention a wedding. Ellie, we need to get married. I just can’t keep sneaking into your room…”
“Afraid God disapproves?” she teased.
“I’m pretty sure God masterminded it, frankly. But I’m uncomfortable with the whole subterfuge. I want us settled in, no matter where we spend our nights. We gotta get this done, baby. Let’s get a move on.”
“Sure. Fine. But maybe I should be the one to negotiate with the seller here, huh? You lean toward the nice side.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked.
“In church and school and bowling,” she said. She gave him a peck on the lips. “Not in politics or real estate.”
He smiled at her. “Sometimes you really turn me on.”
The only thing that surprised Sean more than how easily it had been to fall into a routine with Rosie was how readily she had seemed to take to him. The other thing that shocked him was how much he looked forward to spending time with her.
On Sunday at noon he dropped Maureen at Viv’s house only to find Rosie had already gone down the block to her own house. Once there, he found Franci lying on her couch. She wore a loose and comfy sweat suit and looked fresh from the shower.
“Long night?” he asked her.
“I thought we were going to get off easy,” she said. “It was real quiet. Then we had one run after another until eight this morning. I’m really going to need a nap.”
“You got it. I’ll take Rosie to the park and on some errands, and when we get back here we’ll be real quiet. You want me to wake you at any special time?”
“I’ll get myself up. Sure you don’t mind making dinner?”
“Not at all—it’s gotta be my turn.” He smiled at her. “Where’s the tyke?”
“Cooking,” she said, inclining her head toward Rosie’s bedroom. “Maybe she’ll help with dinner.”
“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he said with a laugh.
Just then, they heard a brief shuffle down the hall, the clicking of plastic high heels, the rustle of a princess dress, a soft gasp and then Rosie ran toward him, her little feet clapping along the floor. She yelled, “Daddy!” and threw herself into Sean’s arms.
Franci and Sean both looked at each other, shock evident on their faces. Seven days and it was done—he was Daddy. He was too stunned to even allow himself the pleasure that title could bring, and he could see from Franci’s face the chasm had been crossed and there was no going back. Everyone was assigned their roles and dare not shirk from them.
It was at once the most complicated yet simplest transition imaginable. The problem was that Sean and Franci had not yet negotiated their unified lifestyle or defined their positions. They were still nibbling around the edges of what kind of relationship they were going to have. Oh, Sean had suggested marriage right away, the moment he realized they had a child together, but that really wouldn’t win him any points. He’d done so only because of Rosie; if not for Rosie, he would have suggested he and Franci resume their old relationship, with marriage possible down the line, whereas four years ago he hadn’t been willing to consider it. As progress went, it was slight.
They were right where they started, with one additional player, and he held her in his arms. He turned his gaze from Franci and buried his face in Rosie’s sweet-smelling neck. “What are you cooking, short stuff?”
“Chicken,” she said, and giggled from his tickle.
“And broccoli?” he asked with a laugh. She nodded vigorously and he looked at Franci. “Don’t you feed this kid anything but chicken and broccoli?”
“Lots of things,” she said, getting up from the couch. “Are you good to go? Because I should get that nap or I’ll be useless tonight.”
“Go,” he said. “We’re going to do stuff.”
“Now remember, always—”
“Wear seat belts, make frequent bathroom stops, never let her out of my sight,” he finished for her.
“And never—”
“Send her into the ladies’ room. I will take her into the men’s room with me, if necessary, make sure it’s clean and private and, when possible, use the handicapped facility for privacy. And plenty of vegetables and nothing that tastes fun.”
“You don’t have to be a wise a—”
He grinned.
But inside he wasn’t grinning. He was thinking of all the things he really had to discuss with Franci. It had been his plan to talk to her over the next several weeks about what kind of future the three of them might have, a little piece of it at a time. The meeting with his boss, Jake, upped the urgency.
His cell phone chimed with a text and he lifted it out of his pocket, glanced at it and put it back. When he looked up, Franci was staring him down. “Haven’t you taken care of that yet?” she asked.
“I meant to,
but I’ve been busy,” he said. “By the way, have you taken care of him yet?”
“We should talk about this later,” she said.
“We should,” he agreed. He shifted Rose onto a hip and walked toward Franci. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Get some rest, Franci. Being tired makes you cranky.”
“I’d slug you if that weren’t true.” Then she went to her room. Harry ran after her, scratched at the door and was let in to nap with her.
“Well, what do you say, sport. Wanna get some warm outside clothes on so we can go play and shop?”
“I’ll wear dis,” she said, touching her worn-out taffeta.
“You can’t wear that to the park and the store—it’s getting cold out.”
“I’ll wear dis!”
Sean furrowed his brow, narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips just the way his father had done and was surprised to find this all came quite naturally. He lowered his voice a notch. “Fine, then we’ll stay home and read and nap.” He lifted one brow.
She stared him down for a long moment. Then she said, “Oh-kay!” But she didn’t say it happily.
Sean had never spent much time alone with children. When he socialized with friends who had kids, he fit in just fine—he could toss the ball, throw a little one up in the air, make goo-goo faces, tickle and tease. But he’d never had any actual responsibility for a child before he met Rosie.
This was their first full-day outing alone and Sean learned something he had never before known. Women paid even more attention to him with a child in tow than they had before! He wasn’t bad looking, had an adorable daughter and no wedding band. Women approached him in the mall, in Target, at the playground, remarking on his beautiful child, making small talk. They smiled hugely while they said, “Well, having a daddy-daughter day?” Or, “If you live around here, we could get the kids together for a play-date sometime.” He was shocked and astounded.