Whispering Rock (25 page)

She closed her eyes. “You do have your ways,” she whispered.

He laughed, deep in his throat, and took great pride in working a little of his magic. Nothing in his life to this moment compared to the happiness he felt when she responded to him, when she was swept away by the pleasure he could give her. And sweeter still was holding her afterward, whispering in the night, or talking softly in the early-morning light. Whether it was love talk, usually only stirring them up all over again, or just the conversation of partners planning their days, their lives. Then there were conversations about children, about a house on a hill, about life together that took them into old age. All of it filled him up inside, gave him the substance that had been missing from his life. He’d had women but this was the first time he’d had a true partner.

Brie propped herself up on her elbow, meeting his smiling eyes, her hair falling over her shoulders. “It’s almost Thanksgiving,” she said. “You’re sure you want to stay here?”

He shrugged. “Mel and Jack can’t leave—she has babies coming. Preacher and Paige are here—that’s family. If you want to go to Sam’s, I’ll do that with you. But I don’t want to go to L.A. yet.”

“You aren’t keeping me a secret from the Valenzuelas, are you?”

“God, no, I’ve told them all, every one of them. I even told
them to look out—you’re bilingual and tricky. But I’m not ready to share you. In my mother’s Catholic household, it would be separate bedrooms because we’re not married. Even though I’m thirty-seven and she knows we’re living together—it’s her Catholic home. We could stay in a hotel, but I think we’ll visit later. Just give me a little more time. I’ve never been this happy in my life and all day long I look forward to when we’re finally alone together.” He played with the hair that fell to her shoulder. “I’m greedy. This is the best my life has ever been.”

“What about Christmas?” she asked him.

“What about it?”

“Will your family be upset it we go to Dad’s for Christmas? Because my whole family plus Mel’s sister, brother-in-law and the kids will be there—and I want to be with them.”

“Then that’s where we’ll be. We can join the Valenzuelas another time. You have to remember,
mija
—my family is so large that my parents don’t expect to have all the kids together with their own families every year. We’ll do Christmas with them another year.”

Thanksgiving fell on the last Thursday of the month and Preacher did the dinner in the bar. General Booth and his family were invited, but they drove down the coast to Bodega Bay to be with his sister and niece. There were several Virgin River folk who were included in Thanksgiving at the bar, people that Preacher and Jack had looked after for a long time, and it was a tradition to serve them the holiday meal in the bar. There was Doc and Hope McCrea, Connie and Ron of the corner store, Ricky’s grandma Lydie, Joy and Bruce from just down the street. Now that Preacher and Jack were both married, they’d close the bar on Christmas, but Preacher liked doing his Thanks-
giving feast, keeping the bar open in case anyone who was alone straggled in.

When Mel, Jack and Davie arrived for dinner, Mel called her two patients who were close to due dates to see how they were doing, and when the report was that everything was status quo, she asked for her one glass of wine for the trimester. “One of my girls is running a tish late, while the other one has a habit of going early,” she said, raising her glass to Brie. “Any second now, we’re having not one but two babies.”

“You must be so excited.”

“I still get a little wound up, waiting. I live for the babies.”

“And you’re still feeling okay?”

“I’ve been sick as a dog with this one. But I hang in. Jack promises he’s not going to do this to me again. And I’m leaning toward a surgical procedure while he sleeps.”

The turkey was one of Preacher’s very best and the side dishes were perfect. The pies had been made by Paige, who had developed some amazing culinary skills since coming to Virgin River. Preacher had proven to be not only a fabulous chef, but a wonderful teacher. And she was a very apt student who had seemed to find her niche in the kitchen with him.

Mel and Brie helped with the cleanup and Jack helped with the trash and sweeping up while balancing David on one hip. Mike wiped down the bar and tables but, even so, Preacher was busy cleaning up for so long that he missed Christopher’s story time after his bath. He did go upstairs, however, to kiss the little guy good-night, because he found he just didn’t get a good night’s sleep without doing that. Then he trudged downstairs to close up the bar and go to his quarters, where he would lie platonically beside the woman of his dreams, waiting for her invitation indicating that enough time
had passed. Every day he wondered when he’d get permission to let it go. He really waited for ovulation day when he didn’t have to hold anything back and which, by his calculations, was about a week away. And Paige was so regular, he had this figured almost to the minute.

When he walked into their bedroom he saw that Paige was sitting up in bed, pillows behind her, sheet drawn up over her naked breasts and a mysterious smile on her face. When he frowned and cocked his head, she pulled a pregnancy test stick out from under the sheets. “Ta-da,” she said. “We did it, Dad.”

Preacher almost fell down. His eyes actually welled up with tears. He put his hands up to his face to try to gain control, but he was overwhelmed. Three months of saving up, waiting for ovulation day, and he had begun to despair of them making a baby. But Mel was right! This is what it took! He could do this again, and again! But wait, he told himself. One baby at a time!

He went to the bed and fell to one knee beside it, grabbing on to that pregnancy stick. “Oh,
God!
Oh, baby! Are you?”

“Looks like it, yes.”

“Oh, my God,” he said, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms and holding her against his huge chest. “Oh, God!”

“Easy, John,” she said, laughing.

He immediately let go of her. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” She laughed again. “Of course not. But, John, if this little stick is accurate, you’re all done saving up.”

“Paige,” he said in all seriousness, “do you think so?”

“Yes, John, I think so. I’m late for the first time ever, and the test is positive.”

“Oh, my Lord. Oh, my Lord. How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“Actually…I’m pretty horny.”

“Not really,” he said, stunned.

“Oh, really. This saving-up business—I guess you think you’re the only one who missed it. Huh?”

“Well… You got a little pissy there for a while….”

“Well, John, you
told
everyone it was ovulation day! You’re going to have to learn to be a little more discreet in the future.”

“Anything you want, baby. Anything.”

“Fine. Take off your clothes. Come in here with me. Do that thing you do….”

Mike drove out to Jack’s homesite; it was the first week in December—damp and cold. Preacher had taken a call at the bar and asked Mike to go break the news. Preacher would work on shutting down the bar and closing up the kitchen.

Jack and Paul were both inside installing cabinets; Paul’s crew had already quit for the day and were in the trailer getting together an evening meal. The sun was low in the sky and Tommy Booth was still picking up scraps and dragging them to the Dumpster. Mike got out of his SUV and waited for Tom to turn back his way.

Mike walked over to Tom. “I gotta get you home, buddy. It’s bad news. It’s Matt. There was an explosion. In Baghdad.”

The expression on Tom’s face was one of pure horror. He was frozen for a second and then he called out,
“Paul!”
It sounded as much like a scream as a shout. It was enough to bring Paul and Jack running to the porch of the house, and for some of the crew to appear in the doorway of the trailer.

Tom looked back at Mike. “Is he dead?” he asked in a terrified whisper.

Mike nodded and the tears instantly sprang to Tom’s eyes.
Mike grabbed his upper arm. “Leave the truck. I’ll drive you. I’ll get the truck for you later. You have to be safe—your sister has enough going on right now. She can’t have anything happen to you.”

Tom sucked it back bravely. “Yeah,” he said in a breath. “I’m okay.”

“You have to try to hold it together for her. We can meet up and fall apart later, bud.”

“Yeah,” he said. Then he ran for Mike’s SUV.

Paul jumped out of the house rather than walking down the plank where the porch steps would eventually be constructed. He ran to Mike, Jack right on his heels, questions shining in their eyes. “The Marine Corps is at the house, Paul. It’s Matt. Car bomb in Baghdad. He’s dead.”

“Jesus,” Paul said in a breath.
“Vanni!”
burst from his lips. And he lit off for his truck before Mike had a chance to stop him.

“Jack, I sent Mel out to the house because of Vanni’s pregnancy. You’ll want to get over there. Brie will bring Davie in a little while.”

Tom, Mike and Paul beat Jack to the house by mere seconds, but when he looked in the door what he found was a Marine Corps recruiter and a chaplain sitting uncomfortably in the great room while Walt stood beside his daughter. Tommy leaned on his dad and Paul knelt beside the ottoman on which Vanni sat, and held her in his arms. Before Jack could even enter the house, Mel drove up, parked and walked swiftly toward the house. Jack stopped her at the doorway. “Are you up to this?”

“I’m fine, Jack. I should see Vanni.”

“Sure.”

Then he watched as his wife, medical bag in hand, went to her patient. Mel put a hand on Vanni’s shoulder and said,
“I’m here, Vanni. I just want to be here,” she said. What she didn’t say was, to be sure you don’t have any problems with your pregnancy on account of the news.

Shortly the house filled up even more. Preacher and Paige with Christopher, Brie with David. Preacher brought food that had been prepared for that night’s dinner, plus a couple of bottles of good liquor.

Eventually the Marine contingent spoke with the general about arrangements and told Walt that a similar detachment had paid a visit to Matt’s parents in Oregon once Vanni had been notified. They’d be available to help with the burial, when those decisions were made.

Paul took Vanni to her room, glancing over his shoulder to Mel, indicating she should follow. Once there, Vanni lay back on the bed and cried helplessly. Paul sat beside her, gently rubbing her back. Mel quickly checked her vitals, listened to the fetal heartbeat and gave her a light sedative that wouldn’t bother the baby.

This was the first time Mel became aware of a truly special bond between Paul and Vanni even though she’d seen their reunion a couple of months before, even though she’d heard Matt ask his best friend to look after his wife. Right now, in the moment, Vanni was completely dependent on Paul. Not on her father or brother, but on Paul, who continued to keep at least a hand on her, if not his arms around her. “Paul, if you can, if it’s all right with Vanni, lie down beside her and stay close for a while. The contact,” she said. “Loving contact is good.”

“Vanni?” he asked.

She turned in his arms, nodding and sobbing, and he climbed onto her bed with her, drawing her close as she cried.

“Call me if you need me. I’ll be near,” Mel said.

It was a long while before the sobbing finally subsided. Vanni’s eyes were swollen and red, her breathing jagged. She turned to look at Paul and asked, “Did he know?”

“Know what, honey?”

“Did he know he was going to die? I heard him ask you to take care of us if anything happened. It was almost as if he knew….”

“He didn’t know. When it gets hot, you think like that. That’s all it was. You always wonder. Plus, he knew without asking I’d be here for you.”

“What am I going to do?” She wept again.

“We’ll get through it, Vanni. You have a lot of people around who love you.”

“He’ll never see his baby. His son.”

“Sure he will. You think he won’t be watching? I know the guy—he’ll be watching.”

They lay together on her bed and Paul held her. No one bothered them; no one checked to see if they were okay. Paul could hear the soft murmur of voices in the other room, but the only thing that mattered at the moment was Vanni and the baby. She faced him, her head on his arm, her belly pressed up against him, and he felt the baby move. Relief flooded him. It was bad enough that Vanni was going through this—he couldn’t have anything happen to the baby. Matt’s baby.

The room was dark. There was a soft glow from the hallway from lights in the great room and kitchen spilling over. Vanni’s breathing became even and calmer—she slept, probably due to the sedative. He eased himself away reluctantly; he knew he wouldn’t be able to justify putting himself back on her bed, at her side, his arms around her, so it was hard to leave her.

In the great room he found all his friends. Waiting.

“She’s asleep,” he said. “Mel, I could feel the baby moving, so I guess he’s okay, right?”

“She’s in her last trimester—the baby’s pretty tough. Resilient. I’m confident she’ll carry, though she’ll have a lot of emotional pain.”

“You want to call his parents?” Walt asked Paul.

“I can do that, yeah. Any idea what Vanni would want to do about the burial?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how it’s going to sit,” Walt said. “If anything happened in Iraq, they’d decided together that he’s to come here. Not Virginia, where she’s never going to live. Not Oregon, where their child isn’t going to grow up. Do you think you can talk to his folks about that, or should I?”

“I can do it,” Paul said. “When you say here…?”

“On my land,” the general said. “I’m always going to be here. This is going to be home base for Vanessa, at least. There’s a kind of…the baby should have a link to his dad.”

“And me,” Tommy said. “And to me.”

“Yeah, of course,” Paul said. And he was beginning to long for the moment when he could be alone and grieve for his best friend. But it wasn’t going to happen soon. He knew these people needed him to be strong.