Redwood Bend (16 page)

“Did you ever regret any of it?”

She smiled with such patience and understanding it almost broke his heart. “It made me grateful for every second.”

He looked into her eyes for a long time. He ran a hand over her hair. Then he said, “Let’s warm up the omelet.”

Over breakfast he told her about Jay and the possibility of a movie deal.

“That would mean living and working in Hollywood again, wouldn’t it?” she asked.

“For probably six months, more or less,” he said.

“And that’s what you want to do, I guess?” she asked.

“I think I’m pretty lucky to have the opportunity. I’ve visited about a dozen small airports and charter companies around here and I haven’t run into any owners or managers that can get their companies out of trouble by signing on for a movie deal.”

“Wow. That’s a life I can only imagine. It must be crazy.”

“A lot of work, really,” he said. “I’d rather not need to, but it is what it is.”

“I think all those little girls who are now young mothers will be so happy to see your face again,” she said.

When they were finished with breakfast and standing on her porch, she said, “It’s been wonderful, Dylan. Thank you for everything. And be safe.”

He smirked slightly. “I’m going to hang around a couple of days,” he said. “But you’re going to have to put out.”

And she burst out laughing.

Nine

“W
e have a slight issue,” Luke Riordan told Dylan a few days later. “I have reservations on all these cabins—summer people. But I have a solution, if it’s not too rough for you. I parked my fifth-wheel trailer on the RV slab behind the cabins and hooked her up—water, sewer and electric. It’s yours as long as you want it.”

“I’m just thinking about a couple more days,” Dylan said.

“Right,” Luke said with a crafty grin. He wasn’t saying it, that Dylan’s “couple of days” had stretched out, edging over three weeks. “Like I said, as long as you want it. It’s for special cases like this—when we have one more than we planned on. And I’ll give it to you cheaper than the cabin, but don’t worry, it’s comfortable. Your legs’ll hang off the bed, but you get used to that. You’ll have everything you need, except the washer and dryer, but you’re welcome to borrow ours anytime. And the shower is smaller. If you drop the soap, you’re in trouble. You’ll have to step out to pick it up.”

Dylan laughed, but what really tickled his good humor was the fact that he’d been getting most of his showers at a little cabin in the woods the past week.

Any other woman would have extracted some kind of statement from him, some sort of lame commitment or expression of affection. But not Katie. He’d been in Virgin River for almost a month, the first four days of it having been with his boys on a ride. And it wasn’t easy dating a woman with kids. She called the shots. She saw him during the day while the boys were at their summer program, and if she saw him evenings or on weekends, they were busy doing things with the family. He’d been to an animated kids’ movie, the kind where you get a red Slurpee spilled right in your lap, popcorn down your shirt and gum in your hair, not to mention the headache that follows. They had dinner at her cabin, dinner at McDonald’s, and burgers on the grill at her brother’s house. He’d played catch, did a little fishing without catching and had learned video games. All this so he could get laid when the kids weren’t home. He had never, not even as a teenager, traded so much of his soul for the affection of a woman.

Katie’s brother had stopped scowling so much and was working on getting to know him.

“What will you do if the charter business goes under?” Conner asked.

“There’s more to a fixed base operation than charters, but that was the big moneymaker, and that’s the part of the business that’s suffering the most. We still have aircraft storage, maintenance, instruction, et cetera. My partner is managing all that while I hang out here trying to—”

“Trying to decide how much you like my sister?” he asked.

“Aw, it’s not really like that, Conner. There’s no question about how much I like your sister. It’s just that…we’re good friends. And don’t worry about Katie or the boys—we’re very responsible. Nothing inappropriate going on there—when we’re all under the same roof, it’s all good and proper.”

“So she says…”

“I have a potential job in Los Angeles. I’m waiting to hear more about that, then I’ll have to go down there. I’d rather live and work in Montana, but through no fault of anyone’s, that might be out of reach at the moment.” He laughed lightly. “Lang, my partner, is expecting a slow exodus of our employees from the company—pilots, instructors, maintenance—until we’re down to just a few. So I should think about getting a paycheck. But I hate the city.”

“I can relate,” he said.

“But you always lived in the city, worked in the city,” Dylan said.

“And was mad as hell at the circumstances that moved me to this little town…till I got to know this little town. Over the course of a couple of months I realized I didn’t just want a different location, I wanted a different kind of life. A slower, simpler, more balanced kind of life. So how do you know you won’t enjoy flying out of Los Angeles? Maybe it’ll work out.”

Of course, Conner assumed it was a flying job. The only thing Dylan had told him about himself was that he was a pilot and instructor. To his amazement, Leslie must not have said anything. Girls usually liked to brag about a Dylan sighting… “I’m sure it’ll work out one way or another and as much as I like kicking back here, I’m going to have to go check it out. But there is something I’d kind of like to do before I go—I’ve been thinking about that jungle gym we put up for the school…why don’t we drive over to Eureka and get a smaller version of that for Katie’s yard. The front yard, where there’s room and she can see them from the porch. Interested?”

Conner tilted his head and lifted a brow. “Are you thinking with a jungle gym in the yard you might be able to sneak Katie into the house for a little nookie?”

“Now, why would I think something like that?” Dylan asked, affronted.

Conner shrugged. “Probably what I would be thinking if Les had a couple of kids. But don’t do that. Really, don’t. And I’ll ask Jack if he minds.”

“I’ll split the cost,” Dylan said. “Might keep her around longer.”

“You’re a peculiar guy, Dylan,” he said. “You’re looking at two possibilities for yourself—L.A. or Montana. Yet you want to help me keep her here? Is that to take the heat off? So you can leave her here without feeling guilty?”

“Not that, Conner. I’m on your team. Katie should have someone in her camp she can depend on and the boys need their uncle. I wish I was a better bet,” he said. “With the kind of work I do, you never know where I’ll end up.”

And yet, Dylan was still here. Unable to leave. He could just as easily go back to Payne to await that phone call from Jay Romney, but he hadn’t.

Dylan and Conner went to Eureka together on a Tuesday afternoon to pick up that play set for the cabin. Katie was surprised and so delighted she could hardly contain herself. The boys were immediately crawling all over the pieces until their mother yelled at them not to get the parts all mixed up.

“I think I can get this together,” Dylan said to Conner. “Why don’t you swing by tomorrow after work and see if I put it together to your satisfaction.”

“If you have Katie to help, it’ll be done right.”

“You sound like you trained her yourself.”

“Nope,” Conner said. “But the same guy who trained me, trained her.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“Don’t get the idea we’re bonded here,” Conner said. “I’m still pretty concerned about what’s going on with you and my sister.”

Dylan shook his head in a silent chuckle. “Probably a good thing you ended up here, Conner. I think you’re perfect for this place.”

Conner narrowed his eyes. “Why do I get the impression that’s not a compliment?”

“That kind of thinking is why I haven’t dated a female in Payne, Montana, since the senior prom. Not everyone who likes each other ends up married for fifty years. And Katie can think for herself, believe me.”

“That’s what she keeps telling me, but I still look out for her.”

Dylan slapped a hand on Conner’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Conner.”

“We’re not bonded…”

“Right,” Dylan said. “Got it.”

Dylan passed Katie on the road—she was taking the boys to summer program while he was en route to her cabin to work on erecting the play set. He was still studying the plans when she returned. He suspected she was speeding to get there.

“Let me see,” she said, taking the instructions out of his hands. She glanced at them for less than one full minute. “Okay. Good,” she said. And then she went to the back of her SUV, lifted the hatch and the floor and pulled out tools and—his eyes almost popped out—a pink tool belt.

“Whoa,” he said as she buckled it around her hips. “Katie, baby, I’m not going to be able to concentrate on the joints and trusses if you wear that thing around your hips.”

She laughed as she secured her belt, then reached back into the SUV for her toolbox. “We’ll have this thing together in no time. I’ll do some measuring and you can dig the holes to secure it.” She pulled on gloves, grinning at him. “Wanna get going here?”

“You don’t know what I want to do,” he said.

“Get the post digger. The one Conner left. And get ready to work.”

They started at nine-thirty in the morning. At two in the afternoon they stood looking at the finished product, the posts still settling in fast-drying cement. Given there would only be two rambunctious little boys at a time on the jungle gym, there was no concern about it not being quite dry when they were home from their summer school.

“Perfect,” she said. “Want a quick shower?”

“After a quick something else…”

“I’m all sweaty…”

He got an evil grin on his face. His eyes were glowing. “I know.”

“Are you ninety-nine-percent testosterone?”

“I want you. I’ve been fighting it all day. That tool belt…”

“Want to sing a round of ‘YMCA’?” she asked with amusement and a lift of her eyebrow.

He approached her looking lethal, grabbing her around the waist. “Sadly, the tool belt will have to go…”

“What if Conner comes early…”

“Won’t he be surprised,” Dylan said, undoing the tool belt. “You and me. Now.”

She sighed and took him by the hand. “Come on, Dylan. You know, I think I give in to you way too much.”

“If you’re suffering, I’ll back off,” he said, but he said it with his usual naughty smile.

“You take very good care of me,” she said. “But I’m not sure how you survive in Montana if you don’t get involved with the local talent. For someone so determined to never marry, I’ve never met a man who needs a good wife more than you.”

Katie’s words really hit home with him. Not so much because she was right, which he realized she was, but because he’d never been in a relationship like this. Thirty-five years old and she was his first steady girl since high school. Never mind all his determination to remain single and childless, he’d never met a woman who was so hard to leave. A woman whose special scent and the perfume of her hair and skin made him love drunk. Her body beneath his hands put a fire in him; her voice lulled him and brought him ease. Her laugh lifted his spirits and her self-confidence somehow made him more sure of himself.

Katie might be the one woman in the universe he wanted to touch, to caress and possess, but she was hardly the first person to make this observation about him—that he needed a good, one-man woman in his life. Lang and Adele had made similar comments, though not based on any knowledge of his sexual needs, needs he’d never before been so aware of. Satisfaction usually set him free; sex with Katie only left him wanting more.

Adele had witnessed, while Dylan was growing up, how much he had longed for a safe and nurturing family unit and would often remind him, “Remember that TV family is make-believe, Dylan. Don’t depend on it for love.” And his best friend would see him around his own family, around Sue Ann and all the kids, and often remark that Dylan had himself all wrong—he was probably the most marriageable man around. “It’s obvious you take to it,” Lang often said. “You’re calmer hanging out around all these little hoodlums than I am.”

It was true. The one thing he had long been avoiding was a connection like the one he had with Katie. He feared it more than anything else. He wasn’t sure where she found her strength, but he wasn’t made of the same stuff. Having her and losing her, by any means—death, divorce, even malignant discord, it would kill him.