by Robyn Carr
* * *
There had been a long history in Sunny’s family of returning to the Jensen stables for a little rest and rejuvenation. Sunny and her cousins had spent countless vacations around the barn and pastures and trails, riding, playing, inhaling the fresh clean air and getting a regular new lease on life. It had been Sunny’s mother’s idea that she come to Virgin River for a post-Christmas revival. Sunny’s mom was one of Nate’s three older sisters, and Sunny’s grandpa had been the original owner and veterinarian of Jensen’s Clinic and Stable. Now Uncle Nate was the vet and Grandpa was retired and living in Arizona.
Sunny was her mama’s only child, age twenty-five; she had one female cousin, Mary—who it just so happened had managed to get her groom to the church. Since Uncle Nate was only ten years older than Sunny at thirty-five, she and her cousin had had tragic crushes on him. Nate, on the other hand, who had grown up with three older sisters, thought he was cursed with females.
Until he was thirty, anyway. Then he became a little more avuncular, patient and even protective. Nathaniel had been sitting in the church on New Year’s Eve a year ago. Waiting, like everyone else, for the groom to show, for the wedding to begin.
The past year had passed in an angry, unhappy blur for Sunny. Her rather new and growing photography business had taken off—a combination of her kick-ass website and word of mouth—and rather than take a break after her personal disaster, she went right back to work. She had scheduled shoots, after all. The catastrophic twist was that she specialized in engagement, wedding, anniversary, belly and baby shots—five phases of a couple’s life worth capturing for posterity. Her work, as well as her emotional well-being, was suffering. Although she couldn’t focus, and she was either unable to sleep or hardly able to pull herself out of bed, she pressed on the best she could. The only major change she’d made in her life was to move out of the town house she had shared with Glen and back into her mom and dad’s house until she could afford something of her own. She had her workroom in the basement of her parents’ place anyway, so it was just a minor shift in geography.
During the past year at her parents’, Sunny had a revelation. The driving reason behind most young women her age wanting their own space, their independence and privacy, was their being involved in a serious relationship. Since she was determined not to repeat past mistakes by allowing another man into her life, there was no need to leave the comfort, security and economy of her parents’ house.
She was trying her hand at photographing sunrises, sunsets, landscapes, seascapes and pets. It wasn’t working—her images were flat and uninteresting. If it wasn’t bad enough that her heart was broken, so was her spirit. It was as if her gift was lost. She’d been brilliant with couples, inspired by weddings—stills, slide shows, videos. She saw the promise in their eyes, the potential for their lives. She’d brought romance to the fat bellies of pregnant women and was a veritable Anne Geddes with babies! But now that she was a mere observer who would never experience any of those things firsthand, everything had changed. Not only had it changed, it pierced her heart each time she did a shoot.
When she confessed this to Annie, Annie had said, “Oh, darling, but you’re so young! Only twenty-five! The possibilities ahead are endless if you’re open to them!”
And Sunny had said, “I’m not upset because I didn’t make the cheerleading squad, Annie. My fiancé dumped me on our wedding day—and my age doesn’t matter a damn.”
* * *
The town was carpeted in a fresh blanket of pretty white snow, the thirty-foot tree was lit and sparkling as gentle flakes continued to fall, and the porch at Jack’s Bar, strung with lights and garlands, was welcoming. There was a friendly curl of smoke rising from the chimney and light shone from the windows.
Nate, Annie and Sunny walked into the bar at 8:00 p.m. and found the place packed with locals. Jack, the owner, and Preacher, the cook, were behind the bar. There was a festive table set up along one whole wall of the room, covered with food, to which Annie added a big plate of her special deviled eggs and a dill-speckled salmon loaf surrounded by crackers.
“Hey, looks like the whole town is here,” Nate said.
“A good plenty,” Jack said. “But I hope you don’t see anyone here you want to kiss at midnight. Most of these folks won’t make it that long. We have a strong skeleton crew that will stay late, however. They’re busy getting all the kids settled back at Preacher’s house with a sitter—it’s going to be a dormitory. Vanessa and Paul’s two are bunking in with Preacher’s little Dana, my kids are sleeping in Preacher’s room, Cameron’s twins are in the guest room, Brie and Mike’s little one is borrowing Christopher’s room because he’s planning on sitting up until midnight with the sitter. Oh, and to be very clear, the sitter is there for all the little kids—not for Chris,” Jack added with a smile. “He’s eight now. All man.”
“Jack, Preach, meet my niece Sunny. Sunny, this is Jack and Preacher, the guys who run this place.”
She gave them a weak smile, a nod and a mumbled nice to meet you.
“Hop up here, you three. As soon as you contribute your New Year’s resolution, you get service,” Jack said. “The price of admission is a food item and a resolution.”
Sunny jumped up on a bar stool, hanging the strap of her large bag on the backrest. Jack leaned over the bar and eyed the big, leather shoulder bag. He peered at her with one brow lifted. “Going on a long trip right after the party?”
She laughed a little. “Camera equipment. I never leave it behind. Never know when I might need it.”
“Well, by all means, the first annual New Year’s Eve party is your canvas,” Jack said. He slid a piece of paper and pen toward her.
Sunny hovered over it as if giving it careful thought. She knew if she said her resolution was to get this over with as soon as possible, it would open up the conversation as to why she now and would forever more find New Year’s Eve the most reprehensible of holidays.
“Make it a good one, Sunny,” Jack said. “Keep it generic and don’t sign it—it’s anonymous. There’s a surprise coming right after midnight.”
Sunny glanced at her watch. God, she thought. At least four hours of this? I’ll never make it! She wrote on her slip of paper. “Give up men.”
* * *
Drew Foley was a second-year orthopedic resident at UCLA Medical and had somehow scored ten days off over Christmas, which he’d spent in Chico with his two sisters, Marcie and Erin, their guys Ian and Aiden and his new nephew. The three previous Christmases he’d spent with his family, and also his former fiancée, Penny. That somehow seemed so long ago.
When surgical residents got days off, they weren’t real days off. They’re merely days on which you’re not required in surgery, clinic, class, writing reports or being verbally beaten to death by senior residents and attending physicians. But there was still plenty of studying to do. He’d been hitting the books straight through Christmas even with the distraction of family all around, including Marcie’s new baby who was really starting to assert himself. With only a few days left before he had to head back to Southern California, he borrowed the family’s isolated cabin on the ridge near Virgin River so he could study without distraction. He’d managed to focus completely for a couple of days and had impressed himself with the amount of academic ground he’d covered. As he saw it, that bought him a New Year’s Eve beer or two and a few hours of satellite football on New Year’s Day. On January 2 he’d head back to Erin’s house in Chico, spend one more evening with the family, then throw himself back into the lion’s den at UCLA Medical.
He grabbed his jacket. It was New Year’s Eve and he’d spent enough time alone. He’d swing through town on his way to Fortuna to collect his beer, just to see what was going on. He’d be surprised if the only bar and grill in town was open, since Jack’s Bar wasn’t usually open late on holidays. In fact, the routine
in Virgin River on regular days was that Jack’s shut down before nine, open till ten at the latest, and that was only if there were hunters or fishermen in the area. This was a town of mostly farmers, ranchers, laborers and small-business owners; they didn’t stay out late because farm chores and animals didn’t sleep in.
But to his surprise, once in town he found that the little bar was hopping. It made him smile—this was going to save him some serious mountain driving and he’d get to have a beer among people. When he walked into the packed bar he heard his name shouted. “Ho! Doc Foley! When did you hit town?”
This was the best part about this place. He’d only been up here maybe a half dozen times in the past couple of years, but Jack never forgot anyone. For that matter, most of Jack’s friends and family never did either.
He reached a hand across the bar in greeting to Jack. “How’s it going, Jack?”
“I had no idea you were up here!” Jack said. “You bring the family along?”
“Nah, I was with the family over Christmas and came up to get a little studying done before I have to get back to residency. I thought I’d better escape the girls and especially the baby if I intend to concentrate at all.”
“How is that baby?” Jack asked.
Drew grinned. “Red-headed and loud. I’m afraid he could be a little rip-off of Marcie. Ian should be afraid. Very, very afraid.”
Jack chuckled. “You remember my wife, Mel.”
“Sure,” he said, turning toward the town’s renowned midwife and accepting a kiss on the cheek. “How are you?”
“Never better. I wish we’d known you were up here, Drew—I’d have made it a point to call you, invite you.”
Drew looked around. “Who knew you folks ripped up the town on New Year’s Eve. Is everyone here?”
“Pretty good number,” Jack said. “But expect this to change fairly quick—most of these folks will leave by nine. They start early. But I’m hanging in there till midnight,” he assured Drew. “I bet I can count on one hand the number of Virgin River residents willing to stay up for a kiss at midnight.”
And that’s when he spotted her. Right when Jack said kiss at midnight he saw a young woman he’d be more than willing to accommodate when the clock struck twelve. She was tucked back in a corner by the hearth, swirling a glass of white wine, her golden hair falling onto her shoulders. She seemed just slightly apart from the table of three women who sat chatting near her. He watched as one of those women leaned toward her to speak, to try to include her, but she merely nodded, sipped, smiled politely and remained aloof. Someone’s wife? Someone’s girl? Whoever she was, she looked a little unhappy. He’d love to make her happier.
“Drew,” Jack said. “Meet Nate Jensen, local vet.”
Drew put out his hand, but didn’t want to take his eyes off the girl. He said, “Nice to meet you,” but what he was thinking was how long it had been since just looking at a beautiful woman had zinged him in the chest and head with almost instant attraction. Too long! Whoa, she was a stunner. He’d barely let go of Nate’s hand, didn’t even catch the guy’s response because his ears were ringing, when he asked Jack, “Who is that blonde?”
“That’s my niece,” his new acquaintance said. “Sunny.”
“Married? Engaged? Accompanied? Nun? Anything?”
Nate chuckled. “She’s totally single. But—”
“Be right back,” Drew said. “Guard my beer with your life!” And he took off for the corner by the hearth.
“But...” Nate attempted.
Drew kept moving. He was on automatic. Once he was standing right in front of her and she lifted her eyes to his, he was not surprised to find that she had the most beautiful blue eyes he could have ever imagined. He put out his hand. “Hi. I’m Drew. I just met your uncle.” She said nothing, didn’t even shake his hand. “And you’re Sunny. Sunny Jensen?” he asked.
Her mouth fixed and her eyes narrowed. “Archer,” she corrected.
Drew gave up on the shake and withdrew his hand. “Well, Sunny Archer, can I join you?”
“Are you trying to pick me up?” she asked directly.
He grinned. “I’m a very optimistic guy,” he said pleasantly.
“Then let me save you some time. I’m not available.”
He was struck silent for a moment. It wasn’t that Drew enjoyed such great success with women—he was admittedly out of practice. But this one had drawn on him like a magnet and he was unaccountably surprised to be shot down before he’d even had a chance to screw up his approach. “Sorry,” he said lamely. “Your uncle said you were single.”
“Single and unavailable.” She lifted her glass and gave him a weak smile. “Happy New Year.”
He just looked at her for a moment, then beat a retreat back to the bar.
Jack and Nate were watching, waiting for him. Jack pushed the beer toward him. “How’d that work out for you?”
Drew took a pull on his beer. “I must be way out of practice,” he said. “I probably should’a thought that through a little better....”
“What? Residency doesn’t leave time for girls?” Jack asked with a twist of the lip.
“A breakup,” Drew explained. “Which led to a break from women for a while.”
Nate leaned an elbow on the bar. “That a fact? Bad breakup?”
“You ever been around a good one?” Drew asked. Then he chuckled, lifted an eyebrow and said, “Nah, it wasn’t that it was so bad. In fact, she probably saved my life. We were engaged, but shouldn’t have been. She finally told me what I should’ve known all along—if we got married, it would be a disaster.”
“Bad fit?”
“Yeah, bad fit. I should have seen it coming, but I was too busy putting titanium rods in femurs to pay attention to details like that, so my bad. But what’s up with Sunny Archer?”
“Well,” Nate said. “I guess you probably have a lot in common.”
“Uh-oh. Bad breakup?”
“Let’s just say, you ever been around a good one?”
“I should’ve known. She didn’t give me a chance. And here I thought I’d bungled it.”
“Gonna go for round two?” Jack asked him.
Drew thought about that a minute. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe I should wait until she gets a little more wine in her.”
Nate slapped a heavy hand on Drew’s shoulder. “That’s my niece, bud. I’ll be watching.”
“Sorry, bad joke. I’d never take advantage of her, don’t worry about that,” Drew protested. “But if she shoots me down twice, I could get a serious complex!”
Two
Drew nursed his beer slowly and joked around with Jack and Nate over a plate of wings, but the subject of breakups had him thinking a bit about Penny. There were times he missed her, or at least he missed the idea of what he thought they would be.
He had met her while he was in med school. She was a fellow med student’s cousin and it had been a fix up. The first date had gone smoothly; the next seven dates in as many weeks went even better and before he knew it, he was dating Penny exclusively. They had so much in common, they grew on each other. She was an RN and he was studying medicine. She was pretty, had a good sense of humor, understood his work as he understood hers and in no time at all they had settled into a comfort zone that accommodated them both. And it didn’t hurt that the sex was satisfying. Everything seemed compatible.
Penny had been in charge of the relationship from the start and Drew didn’t have to think about it much, which suited him perfectly. He was a busy guy; he didn’t have a lot of time for flirtation or pursuit. Penny was very well-equipped to fill him in on their agenda and he was perfectly happy to go along. “Valentine’s Day is coming up,” she would say. “I guess we’ll be doing something special?”
D
ing, ding, ding—he could figure that out easy. “Absolutely,” he would say. Then he’d get a reservation, buy a gift. Penny thought he was brilliant and sensitive and all was right with his world.
It had been working out effortlessly until he asked her to go to Southern California with him, to live with him. His residency in orthopedic surgery was beginning, he’d dated Penny exclusively for a couple of years and it seemed like the natural progression of things. “Not without an engagement ring,” she’d said. So he provided one. It had seemed reasonable enough.
But the move from Chico changed everything. It hadn’t gone well for Penny. She’d been out of her element, away from her job, friends and family, and Drew had been far too stressed and overworked to help her make the transition. She was lonely, needed attention, time, reassurance. And he had wanted to give it to her, but it was like squeezing water out of a rock. It wasn’t long before their only communication was in the form of arguing—make that fighting. Fights followed by days of not speaking or nights in which she cried into her pillow and wouldn’t take comfort from him, if he could stay awake long enough to give it.
Drew shook off the memory and finally said to Nate, “So, tell me about Sunny, who, if you don’t mind me saying, might be better named Stormy....”
“Well, for starters, jokes about her name don’t seem to be working just now,” Nate replied.
“Ahh,” he said. Drew was distracted by a sudden flash and saw that it was none other than Stormy Sunny herself with the camera, getting a shot of a couple in a toast. “What’s with the camera?”
“She’s a photographer, as a matter of fact. A good one,” Nate said. “She started out studying business in college but dropped out before she was twenty-one to start her own business. My sister Susan, her mother, almost had a heart attack over that. But it turned out she knew exactly what she was doing. There’s a waiting list for her work.”
“Is that a fact?” he said, intrigued. “She seems kind of young...”