43
" He was grateful to have a big cooking job ahead to take his mind off things. He was making his lists, getting out his recipes. And he stopped shaving his head the day she left. Within four days a cap of short black hair covered his dome. “What’s going on with this?” Mel laughed, reaching up and rubbing a hand over his bristly, dark head. “Head’s cold,” he said. “I like it. Do you grow it in every winter?” “Head hasn’t been this cold on other winters,” he said. And he hadn’t been infatuated with a woman who had cut hair for a living other winters, either. “Have you told Paige you have hair on your head?” “Why would I do that?” he asked her. She shrugged. “I guess things that pass as news to women are not quite as interesting to men,” she said. “Have you heard from her this week?” she asked. “She called. She says they’re having a nice visit. Her friend has a dog and Chris is crazy about the dog.” He wiped down the counter. “You think a dog would get in the way around here?” She laughed at him. “Preacher, what’s that matter? You just miss them so much?” “Nah, it’s all good,” he said. “Paige hasn’t seen her friend in years.” “He’s killing me,” Mel told Jack. “Look at him—he’s miserable. He’s so in love with her he can’t think. But will he say anything? To anyone? And seeing him without that little blond angel riding his shoulders is kind of like seeing him with an amputation. He needs to call her—tell her he misses her.” Jack lifted an eyebrow and peered at his wife. “You don’t want to get into that,” he said. “He might try to break your jaw.” At "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
45
" There might as well have been no one else in the room. As she walked toward the bar, he came around it. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time to help,” she said. Preacher stooped to pick up Christopher, who put his arms around his neck first, then rubbed his head. “You din’t shabe it,” he said. Preacher kissed the little boy on the cheek. “My head was cold,” he said. Paige wrapped her arms around his waist and, looking up at him, said, “I hope you have room for two more.” “What are you doing here?” he asked softly. She shrugged. “I changed the tickets. I wanted to be here. With you. I hope you missed me a little bit.” “A little bit,” he said. And then he smiled and put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. * "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
46
" When the last of the dishes were put up, the floor swept, the Open sign turned off and the door latched, Preacher trudged slowly up the stairs to his old room. When he got there he found Christopher was jumping on the bed while beside it Paige stood holding his pajama top, trying to get him to settle down after his bath. She threw a look over her shoulder with a wan smile that said she was coming to the end of her rope. After all, she’d been trapped in the plane and car with him much of the day. “Okay, cowboy,” Preacher said, coming forward. He took the top out of Paige’s hands and held it for the boy. Christopher slipped his arms in and turned around so that Preacher could snap it up the back. “That a boy,” he said. Paige put a hand on Preacher’s forearm and said, “Please tuck in the cowboy and I’ll meet you downstairs.” Christopher lunged at Preacher, jumping on him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, hugging him tight. “Wanna kiss Mommy good-night?” Preacher asked. Christopher leaned around Preacher a little, puckering, but didn’t let go. He got his kiss and Paige left them alone. “In you go,” Preacher said. “Read,” he said. “Aw, c’mon. It’s been a long day.” “Read,” he said. “One page.” “Okay, one page.” Preacher sat on the bed beside him and accepted the book. He read three pages. “Now you have to settle down.” He started whining and wiggling around. “Did someone give you sugar?” Preacher asked him. “Get into bed. Enough of this.” He tucked the covers around him and kissed his head. “See you happy in the morning.” “G’night,” Christopher said, snuggling down in the bed. When "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
47
" Jeannie saw the bear with the blue-and-gray flannel leg. She had stroked it and said, “Oh, God. I’ve never known a guy who does something like this. This is amazing.” “It’s one of the first things that convinced me to stay. The way he is with Chris.” “That’s really awesome,” Jeannie said. “But you can’t stay there forever because of how he is with your child, you know.” “That isn’t all there is,” she said softly. “It’s how he is with me. But he’s so quiet. So...reluctant. I don’t know if he’s just shy or if he’s a big Boy Scout, doing the right thing and counting the days till I leave and he’s free of this obligation....” Jeannie had laughed and said, “Make him tell you.” “Huh?” “You’ve completely forgotten how to flirt. No surprise. Let him know you want to be there. You love it there, and he’s the biggest draw. Let him know he makes you feel wonderful. Be coy but get him the message—you’re a girl ready for a guy like him. If you flirt with him a little and he’s not interested, he’s going to set you straight eventually. If he’s really shy, you don’t want to confront him and scare him off. So, what have you got to do in the meantime?” Paige "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
49
" Mel? Are you nervous about—you know—giving birth?” “Not at all. You know why, big fella? Because I’m meeting John Stone at Valley Hospital, and if everything goes to hell, I’m having a big fat epidural. Afterward, I’m having a rare steak and a tall beer.” “Mel,” he said, running a hand down her hair onto her shoulder. “I want you to have the epidural.” “Jack—are you nervous?” “Oh, baby, nervous doesn’t touch it. You’re my whole world. I don’t think watching you hurt is something I can do. But I gotta be there, you know?” She smiled and shook her head. “You know how you always said I should trust you? Well, now it’s time for you to trust me. I know what I’m doing, Jack.” “Yeah. Well, that makes one of us.” When "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
50
" Jack was frowning darkly. A couple of the brothers-in-law, Dan and Ryan, came forward and said, “Need a hand unloading, Jack?” “Yeah,” he said, his brows drawn together. “What’s the problem?” Ryan asked. “I said exactly those two words to her—huge and waddle—and she was very pissed about it.” The men laughed. Bob clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Come, my brother. Let’s get you unloaded, get you a beer and teach you the facts of life. Out back, where men will be men and the women won’t hear us.” Outside on the patio, now too cold for picnicking, there were a couple of large space heaters thoughtfully provided by Sam, who knew the men of the family would want their beer and cigars without interference. And where Sam also wanted to be, while his daughters overran his house and bossed people around. With Mel and Joey, there were six, not to mention granddaughters—a formidable and intimidating group of women. It was there that Jack learned from the experience of four brothers-in-law and the occasional comment from Sam, that if having children was a partners’ project, pregnancy was definitely a team sport. The women were the ones who knew the rules. What a man said and what girlfriends or sisters said were viewed from entirely different perspectives. If your sister said you were huge, it was a badge of honor. If your husband said that, he thought you were fat. If your best friend said you waddled, it was adorable. If your husband said that, he thought you walked funny and he no longer found you attractive. “And look out,” said Joey’s husband, Bill, father of three, “if you try to make love to her, she thinks you’re a pervert, and if you don’t, she’ll accuse you of no longer finding her desirable as she sacrifices herself to bear your child.” “The last time we had sex, instead of crying out ‘Oh, God, Oh, God,’ she said ‘Ugh.’” Ryan spewed out a mouthful of beer and fell into a fit laughter. “Been there, brother,” he finally choked out. “You wanna know what’s coming, or you wanna be surprised?” Bob asked. “Oh, please, I can’t take any more surprises,” Jack said. “Okay, you’re coming up on where you love the baby more than her. Everything is about the baby—you consider her your brood mare.” “What do you do about that?” “Well, for starters, never talk about breeding.” “Grovel,” said someone else. “Beg for forgiveness.” “But don’t trip yourself up and claim she’s way more important than the baby, which brings you a whole new set of problems.” “Aw, Jesus.” “And since you don’t have the big belly and the backache, it would be advisable not to mention that this is all completely natural. She might deck you.” “You’d think a frickin’ midwife could rise above these ridiculous notions.” “Oh, it’s not her fault. There was an estrogen explosion in there—it’s beyond her control.” “You want to be especially careful about admiring her breasts,” Jeannie’s husband, Dan, said. He took a pull on his cigar. “Especially since they’re, you know, only temporary.” “God, that’s gonna be so hard. Because—” “I know.” Someone else laughed. “Aren’t they great?” “Pretty soon there’s going to be labor and delivery,” Bill said. “And the love of your life, whose back you’re trying to rub and whom you’re doing everything in your power to encourage, to keep comfortable, is going to tell you to shut up and get your fucking hands off her.” Everyone laughed so hard at that, even Sam, that it appeared to be a universal fact. “Dad,” Jack said, stunned. “Did Mom ever say fuck?” Sam drew leisurely on his cigar. “I think about five times,” he replied, throwing the men into a new fit of laughter. “Why doesn’t anyone tell you these things before?” Jack asked. “What difference would it have made, Jack? You didn’t know you were about to score a pregnancy, anyway. I know, I know—you thought you knew everything there was to know about women. Turns out you’re just as stupid as the rest of us.” A "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
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" Gonna be fun today,” he said. “You boys, you sure know how get the women all spooled up.” “Save it. Want me to help you get the bird ready?” “Yeah, we should do that. Then we make brunch.” “I’m good with brunch,” he said. “Did you notice Brie is here?” “I noticed that,” Sam said. “And I noticed that so far, two of the five married women in this family did not spend the night in bed with their husbands.” “Okay, save it. Since I’m going to get it later, I don’t need your two cents.” “Whatever you say, son,” he said. “If you get in really deep, maybe you can take her back to my office and show her all your medals, tell her how you’ve barely escaped death a dozen times and she just doesn’t scare you.” Jack glared at his father. Sam laughed, having far too much fun with this. "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
53
" I’m gonna tell you something, and you’re going to act like you never heard it. You get me?” “Sure,” Preacher said, throwing back the shot for courage. “I caught your girl crying today.” Shock settled over Preacher’s face. “That’s right, old man. She can’t figure you out. I think she loves you, Preacher. She’s waiting. She needs some attention. You with me?” Preacher nodded solemnly. He wasn’t going to go there with Mike. “She thinks you don’t find her attractive. Desirable.” “Aw, that’s crap,” Preacher said. He poured himself another shot. “I’m telling you. You don’t have any excuses here, pal. If you don’t step up, she’s going to think you don’t want her. Don’t care about her. I’d hate it if she thought that because I’m looking at the two of you, the three of you, and I think it’d be a damn stupid shame if you three lost one another because you’re an idiot. Now, I’m not going to try to guess why it’s not happening for you two. Preacher, buddy, it’s time to make it happen.” Preacher threw back that second shot while Mike merely lifted his, not drinking. “I thought you were messing with my girl,” Preacher confessed. “No, I was telling her to try to be patient with you because of your, you know, extra-low IQ.” Then he grinned at Preacher’s scowl. “You always used to mess with anybody’s girl,” he said. “Not just anybody’s girl, Preach. I’d never touch a brother’s woman, you should know that. Even I don’t cross that line. Even if you haven’t made it clear to Paige, you’ve made it clear to everyone else—she’s your girl. Besides, I’m no threat to you. It’s you she wants. Bad enough to make her cry about it.” Mike took in about half his drink and stood up. “Do yourself a favor, Preacher. Your girl needs you and you don’t want to let her down now. Don’t waste another minute.” He left the rest of his drink. He stared into Preacher’s eyes. “You better take care of business. You copy?” Copy, Preacher thought. Cop talk. “Yeah. I copy.” * "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
54
" Do we have any more candles?” she asked him. “Not that I know about.” “How about flashlights?” “Yeah, I have a couple of those.” “Get the strongest one. If he starts to come before John gets here, I might be able to hold the light for you.” “For... Me?” “Jack, there are only two of us here. One of us is going to push him out, one of us is going to catch him. Which job do you want?” “Oh,” he said, going for the flashlight. He took it back to her and demonstrated its strength by shining it right in her eyes. She winced and he turned it off. She rubbed her eyes. “Oh, brother. Maybe you should push him out. I’m calmer. Yeah, I vote for you,” she said. He knelt with one knee on the floor beside her bed. “Melinda, how can you be sarcastic right now?” “You know, you own a bar and you don’t keep alcohol at home,” she said, breathless. “I could have had a shot—it sometimes slows labor.” “We’ll have some on hand for the next one.” “You keep talking like that’s gonna happen,” she said. “How ridiculous.” “I think my record speaks for itself. But, Mel, I just want to make them, not deliver them.” “I hear ya, buddy,” she said, and then was gripped by another contraction. She tried to pant through it, but they were getting tougher—longer and closer together. "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
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" God, I wish I could do this for you.” “That makes two of us.” She closed her eyes for a moment. Two minutes later she was seized by another one. She panted through it. Jack went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth, going back to her to wipe her brow and neck. “That’s nice,” she said. “You have to wait for John,” he said. “I’m doing the best I can, Jack.” He held her hand and wiped her brow through several more contractions, murmuring, “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay....” And then she snapped, “I know it’s okay! Stop saying that!” Oh, he had heard about this—when you’re doing whatever you can, but she hates you, anyway. “Sorry,” she said. “That’s transition talking.” “Transition?” he repeated. “It’s getting closer. "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
56
" Jack,” she said breathlessly. “You’re going to have to take a look. Get the flashlight and shine it right on my pelvic floor. See if the birth canal is opening. Tell me if you see him coming.” “How will I know what to look for?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him. “It has hair,” she said in a very snotty tone. “Okay, don’t get pissy, I don’t do this for a living.” She lifted her knees and spread them while Jack held the flashlight on her. “Whoa,” he said. He looked over her knees at her face. He looked a little bit pale. “Show me how much, like this,” she said, showing him a circle with her thumb and forefinger. He responded by showing her a circle, larger than hers. “Ho, boy,” she said. He turned off the flashlight. “Melinda, I want you to wait for John....” “I am sick to death of being told to wait for John!” she said meanly. “Jack, listen to me. I’m having this baby. Period. And you’re going to pay attention and help. Got that?” “Aw, Melinda...” She grabbed his wrist and dug her nails into him. “Do you think this is my first choice?” He thought briefly about suggesting, again, that she try to hold off. But he knew he was not in the driver’s seat here, plus he was resisting the urge to look at his wrist to see if she’d drawn blood. "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
57
" Preacher went upstairs to put Christopher to bed. Christopher was running around the room bare-assed, dodging his jammies; the kid loved being naked. Preacher grabbed him up, swung him around as he giggled and stood him on the bed. “Enough,” he said. “You’re going to bed.” “Read to me,” Christopher said, bouncing. “Your mommy is going to read tonight. Ten minutes. And then lights-out.” Preacher got him in the pajamas and gave Paige a little slap on the rump. “I’ll see you downstairs in ten.” “Okay,” she said, a little surprised by his apparent playful mood. Preacher, "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
60
" I admit I was stupid. Oh, mija, you don’t know what I’d give to start over.” He leaned toward her and said, “If I had a woman like you in my life, I think I would know what I had.” She laughed at him. “Good God, you’re so obvious. You’re coming on to me!” Some habits die so hard, he thought. But he was close enough to smell her sweet perfume and it addled his brain a little bit. “Dios, no! I wouldn’t dare! I’m admiring you, that’s all.” “Well, you can stop admiring me—I’m never getting within a hundred miles of another one of you.” “Another one of—me?” “You’ve been through two wives and a million other women. Not exactly a good résumé, Mike.” He leaned back on his hands and smiled at her. “For a little while, I thought you liked me.” She lifted her eyebrows. “I’m not about to be tricked by a flirtatious man.” He shrugged. “If you are, it will be kept in confidence, Brie,” he said, smiling at her. “This "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
