4
" How’s that beer?” Jack asked, dishtowel in hand, eyeing the nearly empty glass. “I’m good,” Ian said. “Just let me know,” he said, turning away. “Ah,” Ian said, getting his attention but not exactly calling him back. Jack turned, lifted an eyebrow. Silent. “She tell you to leave me alone?” A small huff of laughter escaped Jack. “Pal, the first thing you learn when you open a bar—talk if they talk, shut up if they don’t.” Ian tilted his head. Maybe he could stand this place once in a while. “She tried to explain me to the librarian in Eureka as an idiot savant.” Jack smiled and Ian felt an odd sensation—it was a funny story; he liked sharing a funny story. He used to make the guys laugh when he wasn’t making them work. “She tell you she was looking for me?” “She did.” For some reason unclear even to him, Ian did something he hadn’t done since finding himself in these mountains—he pushed on it a little bit. “She tell you anything about me?” “Couple of things.” “Like?” “Like, you and me—we were in Fallujah about the same time.” “Should’ve known. You have that jarhead look about you. Just so you’re clear—I don’t talk about that time.” Jack smiled lazily. “Just so you’re clear, neither do I.” * "
― Robyn Carr , A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River, #4)
9
" And can you tell me—do you feel anything for me?” He put his big hand against her wild curls. “I feel everything for you. But that won’t change the facts. We’re strangers from two separate worlds that won’t easily merge, and I’m still a guy with what you call issues—piles of them. Not really ready to make any rapid-fire changes, though I think I made some small ones in spite of myself. I have a lot less hair, for one thing.” “You’ve come along nicely.” She gave him a little kiss. “I think if I had more time…” He stilled her chin in his hand, commanding her attention. “Listen. I won’t kid you—you changed everything. Come back sometime if you feel like it. But if you don’t, I won’t hold it against you. Remember what you told me—that after you did this, after you found me and thanked me, asked me some questions and told me the things you had to be sure I knew, you were going to be free to move on. It’s okay, Marcie. Even after what passed between us. Especially after what passed between us—you can move on if you want to. I expect that.” “And what if what I want is you?” she asked him. “The only thing in the world that could possibly make me sad is if I couldn’t make you happy. That’s what scares me the most—that you would want me, and I’d let you down.” “Why do you even think that way?” “Just a sorry old habit,” he said. “I bet you could break that habit if you’d just let yourself.” He smiled. “That’s one of the best things about you—your eternal optimism.” “Oh, Ian, that’s not optimism. It’s faith. You should give it a try sometime. "
― Robyn Carr , A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River, #4)
10
" Thank you, for matching me for stubborn.” “I’m not all together about this,” she said. “This is really hard.” “When you get closer to home, you’ll start to feel good about being with all of them. They were always there for you,” he reminded her. “Good—” He put a finger over her lips. “Shhh. Don’t say it. Drive carefully.” “If I write to you, will you answer?” “Absolutely,” he promised. “Well, that’s progress,” she said weakly. “I… Ah… I left you something. I slipped it into your clothes trunk when you weren’t looking.” “Aw, Marcie—you shouldn’t have done that.” “It’s not a Christmas gift or anything. Something I meant to give you, but the time was never right. And then I decided you should have it in private. I’ll see you again, Ian.” She gave him a tremulous smile and a tear ran down her cheek. “Saw and chop carefully,” she said. “And take good care of Buck.” “I will,” he said, touching her lips once more. “Till later.” “Okay, then. Till later.” She "
― Robyn Carr , A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River, #4)
14
" Task finished, she sat a few minutes longer, very quietly. Then she sheepishly opened the outhouse door, cursing the squeaking hinges as she stuck her head out. She saw nothing, so she took a careful step outside. She heard a hiss and snarl and saw the cat lurking around the shed, twenty feet away. She retreated, slamming the door. “Shit,” she said aloud. “Shit, shit, shit!” So "
― Robyn Carr , A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River, #4)
17
" I’m going to go see if I can get you some medicine. There’s an old doc in Virgin River—he might have some stuff on hand for cold and flu. It’ll take me almost a half hour to get there, the same coming back.” “Virgin River,” she said dreamily, eyes closed. “Ian, they have the most beautiful Christmas tree… You should see it…” “Yeah, right. I’ll be an hour or so. The fire should more than last, but will you try to keep the blanket on? Till I get back?” “I’m just too warm for it…” “You won’t be in a half hour, when that aspirin kicks in and drops your temperature. Can you just do this for me?” Her eyes fluttered open. “I bet you’re really pissed at me right now, huh? I just wanted to find you, not make so much trouble for you.” He brushed that wild red hair off her brow where a couple of curly red tendrils stuck to the dampness on her face. “I’m not pissed anymore, Marcie,” he said softly. “When you’re all over this flu, I’ll give you what for. How’s that?” “Whatever. You can howl at me with that big, mean animal roar if you want to. I have a feeling you like doing that.” He grinned in spite of himself. “I do,” he said. “I do like it.” Then he stood and said, “Stay covered and I’ll get back as soon as I can.” * "
― Robyn Carr , A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River, #4)
20
" The door jerked open and he glowered at her. “What do you want?” “Hey! Why are you mad at me? I just want to talk to you.” “I don’t want to talk,” he said, pushing the door closed. With inexplicable courage, she put her booted foot in its path. “Then maybe you can listen.” “No!” he bellowed. “You’re not going to scare me!” she shouted at him. Then he roared like a wild animal. He bared his teeth, his eyes lit like there were gold flames in them, and the sound that came out of him was otherworldly. She jumped back, her eyes as wide as hubcaps. “Okay,” she said, putting up her hands, palms toward him. “Maybe you do scare me. A little.” His eyes narrowed to angry slits, and he slammed the door again. She yelled at the closed door. “But I’ve come too goddamn far and gone to too much goddamn trouble to be scared for long!” She kicked the closed door as hard as she could, then yelped and hopped around from the pain in her toes. It "
― Robyn Carr , A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River, #4)