Bring Me Home for Christmas (13 page)

There were twenty people, including the kids, who sat down to a delicious Thanksgiving dinner. Afterward, rather than poker and cigars, Denny and his friends, along with Jack and Preacher, indulged in several cribbage games, while the women sat around the fire and gossiped.

“How do you normally spend the holiday, Becca?” Mel Sheridan asked her.

“At my parents’ house. While the guys have a whole day of football, that’s when my mom and I get a start on our favorite holiday movies—It’s A Wonderful Life and some of the Bing Crosby classics like Holiday Inn. My mom loves Christmas, and so do I. We start celebrating right after Thanksgiving. This year will be so different for them. When my mom found out Rich and I would be out of town, she informed my dad that he was taking her to Cabo, where they’d golf and lounge around the beach. He’s probably recording the football games for later.” She looked at her watch. She’d have to call her mother before Rich went back to San Diego. She dreaded it.

“We’re going to have to do the holiday classics.” Paige said. “It’s been years since I’ve watched some of those great old films. Let’s pick a time to get some of the women together for movies! It’ll get us in the Christmas spirit.”

“I’m in,” Mel said. “Especially if we can get the guys to watch the kids. How about you, Becca?”

“If I’m here,” she said with a shrug.

“How long do you think you’ll stay?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll see what the doctor says next week.”

Mel grinned at her. “I think there’s more to this broken ankle than meets the eye.”

“I beg your pardon, I’ll have you know I have screws in my joint!”

“And an ex-boyfriend in your crosshairs,” Mel said.

“Purely a coincidence. I have a boyfriend. He lives in L.A., but we’ve been exclusive for a year. But if I’m here, I’d love to watch movies with you.”

A bit later, while Mel was gathering up her kids for home and Paige was settling hers into bed, Becca used the phone to leave another message for Doug. “Hope you had a great Thanksgiving, sweetie. We had a town gathering at the bar and, you know what? It was really fun. I’m going to head for bed now and I’ll try you again tomorrow.”

She didn’t even wonder why he wasn’t picking up. She was relieved.

That’s when she began to know the truth about why she came to Virgin River. To find what she’d lost with her first love.

The cutting of the Virgin River Christmas tree was an all-day affair that involved way more spectators than actual woodsmen. First, there was the hunting for the tree—a thirty-foot fir high in the mountains. Becca watched from the truck the entire time. Then there was the cutting down. She would’ve expected that to take seconds, but it took a very long time and involved pulleys and ropes and chain saws. Next came the netting and dragging of the tree along barely visible old logging roads. Only big pickups with four-wheel-drive ventured back into the thickest part of the forest.

Once the tree was dragged as far as a main road, a local builder, Paul Haggerty, and his crew met it with a big flatbed truck and their hydraulic gear to lift it and haul it the rest of the way. By the time the tree made it to Virgin River, it was dark, but half the town seemed to be present to look at their catch, so to speak. There was lots of “oohing” and “aahing” going on.

On Saturday, the tree was erected—a process that took many hands and more of Paul Haggerty’s equipment and men.

“The first time we brought a tree this size into town, it was just Jack, Preacher and Mike Valenzuela standing it up,” Mel told Becca. “During the night, it fell down. Thankfully not on the bar!”

Becca sat on Jack’s porch between Mel and Paige. They all held hot drinks. Her eyes grew large at the prospect of that huge tree falling on the bar. She couldn’t run, after all. “Should we move?” she asked.

Mel just laughed. “I think now that Paul’s on board with this project, we’re in pretty good hands. And I think your brother and his friends are kind of enjoying this. Too bad they won’t see it completely decorated.”

“That must take a long time,” Becca said.

“A day or day and a half, and at least one cherry picker,” Mel told her.

It was past noon before that tree was upright and stable. Mel and Paige were back and forth to the porch, taking children in and outside. By afternoon, a couple of cherry pickers had arrived and the stringing of the lights commenced.

Becca was surprised she wasn’t frozen to the bone, but she couldn’t stand to miss a second of this process. And neither could anyone else! Townsfolk came and went throughout the day, everyone with a new opinion about the tree. By then, night was falling, although it was only about five, and Jack and Denny were fastening up the last of the lights.

Cars and trucks were pulling into town. Becca gave a wave to Noah Kincaid and his family. Connie and Ron walked across the street from The Corner Store. Lorraine Thickson arrived in a beat-up old pickup with a passel of kids somehow stuffed into it. No husband and father, she noticed. Becca sat up a little straighter as she saw Denny in the cherry-picker basket, going up up up to the top of the huge tree. Mel and Paige came back outside; their kids ran into the street. Everyone seemed to sense that the culmination was near.

Denny fussed with the top of the tree, then the cherry picker lowered him to the ground again. Jack must have connected the electricity, because the tree came alive! Lights twinkled all over the giant fir and on the very top was a star that positively brightened the sky! There was a collective “aww” in the crowd and as the night grew dark and the lights bright, there was silence. People seemed motionless.

Then magic happened—a gentle snow began to fall.

“Unbelievable,” Becca whispered to no one. “Amazing.” She felt her eyes watering from the sheer beauty of the moment. Then the tree went dark and, after her eyes adjusted a bit, she noticed people beginning to disperse.

Suddenly Denny was beside her, scooting his chair close. “You okay?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “It was just so emotional—seeing all the work done and so many people turn out.”

“It’s far from done. There are ornaments and trim still to do. The official lighting is tomorrow night, after the rest of it’s decorated. It takes half the town to get it done.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to love it. Too bad the boys can’t stay for that.”

That evening Preacher served up a fantastic pot of turkey soup and it seemed to Becca there were more than the usual number of people stopping by the bar, probably curious about the tree. The temperature dropped and the snow fell gently and she loved the sound of people stomping the snow off their boots on the front porch. Dinner was barely over when Rich pulled his chair closer to hers.

“You sure this is what you want me to do, Becca? Leave you here and go home?”

For a second, she wore a shocked expression. How had she managed not to think about Rich and his buddies leaving? Now that he was, she felt oddly vulnerable. But determined. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

“If you need me to stay and bring you home at the end of the week, I’ll stay. I’ll call in to work, tell them you were hurt and I’m stuck here with you.”

She shook her head. “You know I’ll be fine with Denny. He would never do anything to hurt me. He said he’ll drive me home.”

“Well, that’s just it, Becca. He’d never do anything on purpose, but you two were like oil and water there for a while. It didn’t work too well for you and Denny. You were real…” He hung his head briefly. “While he was in the sandbox, you were hurting all over the place. I felt like it was kind of my fault—I was the one who hooked you up in the first place.” He squeezed her hand tenderly, something Rich never did. “I don’t want to see you go through something like that again.”

“Wow,” she said in a whisper. “I didn’t think you even noticed.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, shrugging, “because I didn’t know what to say, for one thing. I didn’t know how to make it better. And I couldn’t say anything to Denny until he got back from Afghanistan—you don’t go telling a fighting Marine his at-home life is all a wreck. But yeah, I noticed. And then you started to get a little better…”

She smiled at him. “A little, huh?”

“You went from being crushed to being pissed. It was an improvement.”

“Aww. Our problems had nothing to do with you. It wasn’t your fault. Then I met Doug and—”

“Here’s the thing, Becca. You have to tell Mom and Dad where you are and who’s taking responsibility for you. And you have to tell them how you got here—that I didn’t have much of a choice.”

She stiffened indignantly. “Excuse me, but I’m taking responsibility for myself. Denny’s giving me a place to stay, but I’m twenty-five and I’m—”

He was shaking his head. “I’m leaving you and going home because Denny said he’d look out for you. I know you’re all grown up, but he’s your ex. And you know how Mom feels about your ex. You have to tell her. And you have to do it tomorrow, because when she asks me about you, I’m not going to lie to her. I kind of feel like she can still ground me or take away my truck or something.”

That made her grin. Really, Rich’s relationship with that truck was funny.

“Okay. I was going to, anyway.”

“Have you told Doug?”

“Mostly,” she said with a shrug. “I told him I was hunting with you….”

Rich sucked in his breath. “Okay, I don’t want to know any more about this. You kept it from Mom and Dad, you kept the important parts from Doug, Denny’s the one I’m leaving in charge…” He groaned.

“I’m going to tell everyone everything, but right now, I’m still here because I have a broken ankle.”

“At least promise to call Mom. Before I get home and she puts the screws to me.”

“For goodness’ sake, you’re twenty-five! You build bridges! Why are you so nervous about our mother?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I hate it when she’s pissed at me.” He ran a big meaty hand over his face. “You sure you’re going to be all right if I leave you?”

She nodded. “I’m sure. I think this worked out just the way it’s supposed to.”

“And your ankle doesn’t hurt too much anymore?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Okay, one more thing, Becca. If anything happens and you need me, will you call me?”

“Huh? Richie, you never act like this!”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand around the back of his neck. “I know you think you’re the boss, the big sister, but it really bothers me to see you upset. I do care about you, you know.” He grimaced. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

She put her fingers over her mouth to cover her laugh.

“If you’re sure, I gotta go. I’m leaving early in the morning—I have work on Monday.”

“Yeah. Go,” she said. “And hey, Rich? Thanks. That was a real nice brother-thing to do.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it.” He stood up. “Call me if you have a problem. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Jack and Preacher said they’d be looking out for you, too.”

“Thanks.”

He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “See ya in a week or so.”

“Drive carefully.”

Because Rich needed to be on the road by about 4:00 a.m. to make the drive to San Diego in just one long day, he left the bar early. Dirk and Troy didn’t have as far to go the next day—Sacramento was approximately a five-hour drive. Denny made sure Becca was settled in his apartment, then drove out to the Riordan cabins to hang out with his friends.

Becca had been asleep awhile when he finally came in. It was almost midnight. She kept her eyes squeezed shut while he undressed in the semidark. She was afraid a mere glimpse of him undressed might blow her mind. She held stock-still while he rustled around on his blow-up mattress. Seemed like he flipped around for a long time before she said, “Everything all right, Denny?”

“Huh?”

“You sound real restless,” she said. “You okay?”

“Just getting comfortable,” he said.

“Why don’t I sleep on that thing tonight so you can get a good night’s sleep in your own bed,” she offered.

“I’ll be fine in a second. This bed is good.”

“I don’t mind at all….”

“Shh,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

But she was completely conscious of his presence. She inhaled deeply; she could smell him and he was divine. She wanted to put her arms around him, hold him, kiss him, taste him… She had missed him so.

Becca had absolutely no idea where they might go from this point, but one thing was glaringly obvious to her—she had to come clean with Doug. She wouldn’t cheat; she wouldn’t mislead. And she couldn’t leave Doug believing they were quickly moving toward a permanent commitment when, in fact, she was trying to figure out what her relationship was with her ex-boyfriend.

Which meant there were going to be two very uncomfortable phone calls in the morning.

Becca dreamed about the day she met Denny. On a weekend pass from Camp Pendleton, Rich brought Denny over for dinner with their parents. Becca was home from college for the weekend.

They locked eyes and that was just about it. He grinned at her and she smiled at him. Rich said, “Oh, crap! I should have known something like this would happen!”

From that moment on, if they were in the same room, they were touching. They abandoned Rich and went off to be alone together. They talked on the phone daily, sometimes several times a day. There was passion between them almost instantly. They talked about everything in life; they could go from hysterical laughter to serious heat in seconds.

When they made love for the first time, it was perfect. That first time they were a little clumsy, but utterly intoxicated with each other’s bodies. By the time they’d made love a few times, they were absolute experts. Denny taught her about men; he told her nothing was easier than satisfying a guy, so encouraged her to help him concentrate on pleasing her. He put her at ease; he inspired her trust. While she felt inexperienced and awkward, he treated her like a goddess. Every time they made love was better than the time before.

She woke up at dawn, her eyes misting over with memories, with longing.