Bring Me Home for Christmas
Page 10
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?”
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?”
