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" Jack was mesmerized by the sight of her, naked in front of those mirrors. He hadn’t really seen her like that. He’d seen her naked, of course, but lying down or standing almost a foot shorter than he as they showered. Now he bent, looked at her profile and said, “My God, Melinda. You’re huge.” She threw him a look that suggested a different choice of words. “I mean, you look awesome, Mel. Look at that!” “Shut up, Jack,” she said. When "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
84
" When did you know?” Brie asked her. “When did you know for sure he was absolutely perfect for you?” “Not right away,” she admitted. “I wanted no part of a man who claimed he could take care of me, for obvious reasons. But John moves real slow.” She laughed. “Real slow. It was all in the way his frown would slowly go away when he looked at me, the way his voice would get all tender and soft when he talked to me. His caution, his shyness. It takes a lot for a man like John to make a move. He has to be sure of everything. By the time he got around to telling me he loved me, I thought I’d die waiting for him. But he’s a careful man—and he doesn’t change his mind.” “How’d he do it?” Brie wanted to know. “Propose.” “Hmm.” She thought. “Well, we’ve talked about this for a while—about making a commitment when things got under control. He told me at Christmastime he wanted to be with me forever, add to the family, and I wanted that, too. But when you come down to the exact, official proposal, he was peeling potatoes. He stopped what he was doing and looked across the kitchen at me. My hair was stringy, I was sweating from the heat of the stove and doing dishes, and he said, ‘Whenever you’re ready, I want to marry you. I’m dying to marry you,’ he said.” “Well,” Brie said, unimpressed. “That must have knocked you right off your feet.” “Yeah, it did,” she said in a sigh. “John’s the only person I’ve ever known who could look at me in my worst physical and emotional state and think I’m perfect.” Mel "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
85
" Then she saw him. Standing up front, at a place where a fireplace would eventually be erected. Chris stood in front of him; John’s hands were on his shoulders. Jack and Mike stood beside him. Even from her distance she could see the light brighten his eyes. He was a pillar of a man, probably six-six in his boots. Today, for the first time ever, he wore a linen shirt with a button-down collar and she suspected his jeans were new, but she doubted he’d ever owned a tie. Before she could even make the walk to meet him at their makeshift altar he broke away from his groomsmen and strode toward her, reaching out a hand to take her the rest of the way. He didn’t move slowly anymore, not where she was concerned. This man had saved her life, changed her life. To his very core, he was all goodness. He was so strong, so authentic. He was so magnificent. * "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
86
" Mike turned his chair toward the hearth and put his feet up, enjoying the sound of Preacher’s voice telling the story by heart, Christopher adding lines that Preacher deliberately left out just for fun. My man Preacher, he was thinking—all soft and sweet, his voice rough and gravelly as sandpaper, holding a kid on his lap like he’d been doing it all his life. This was a guy who you didn’t want to see coming at you with a scowl on his face and his fists up. A picture of him in fatigues, toting an M16, a snarl on his face... The guy could take down a whole army. Mike looked at him now with new eyes. Transformed into a big, cuddly bear. Committed. Devoted. All in. It "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
87
" Jack,” Preacher said, shaking his head. “You shoulda been here for that,” he said, laughing. “Our Jack—Jesus, I hate to think the number of women he ran through, never lost a minute of sleep.” Preacher looked over at Mike, grinning. “Took Mel about thirty seconds to turn him into a big pile of quivering mush.” “Yeah?” Mike said, smiling. “Then it got fun,” he said. “She wasn’t having any of him.” “Wait a minute—I was up here last year to fish with the boys. Looked to me like he had a lock on her. Next thing I hear, she’s pregnant and he’s going to marry her. I figured he finally ran into one that could trip him up.” Preacher whistled. “Nah, it didn’t go down like that. Jack went after her like a bobcat goes after a hen, and she just kept dodging him. He rebuilt her whole cabin for her without being asked, and I think maybe it got him kissed. Sometimes she’d come in the bar for a beer and he’d light up like a frickin’ Christmas tree. And she’d leave and he’d head for the shower. Poor bastard. He was after her for months. I guess no one ever said no before.” They used to all say yes to me, too, Mike thought. “Now when you look at ’em, it looks like they’ve been together since they were kids,” Preacher said. "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
88
" Joe stood right inside the door, a smile growing on his lips and a wonderful warmth lighting his eyes as he looked her up and down. “Oh, honey,” he said in a breath. “Look at you. You’re gorgeous.” Mel laughed. These guys, she thought. To the last one, they loved pregnant women. It was very amazing, very sexy. No one could better appreciate that kind of man than a midwife. He dropped the plans on a table and moved toward her with his hands stretched out, tentative. “Go ahead,” she said. His hands were on her belly in no time. “Ah, Mel.” Then he pulled her into his arms to give her a hug. “Ripe and ready,” he said. “You’re so beautiful.” “I’m right back here,” Jack said from behind the bar. Joe laughed. “Be right with you, buddy. I have my hands full of woman right now.” “Yeah,” Jack said. “My woman.” “You need your own woman,” Mel said. Another one who was, like her husband, a big, handsome man, an angel of a man, and though he was surely over thirty-five, completely unattached. “I do,” he said. He touched her nose. “Why don’t you find me one?” “I’ll get right on it,” she said, pulling out of his arms and grabbing the rolled-up plans from the table. They "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
89
" Well, shit.” “Oh, brother,” John’s wife said. “That doesn’t happen very often,” June said. “What?” Jack said. “What?” “But I have all these pink things! From Christmas!” Mel shrieked. “What?” Jack said. “What the hell is it? Is the baby all right?” “Baby’s fine,” John said. “It isn’t Emma, that’s for sure. Look—femur, femur, penis. I blew it. And I’m so damn good, I can’t imagine how that happened.” “It was probably just on the early side,” June said. “We should’ve done another one at twenty weeks to be sure.” “Yeah, but I’m so damn good,” John insisted. “Penis?” Jack asked. Mel looked up into his eyes and said, “We’re going to have to come up with another name.” Jack had a dumb look on his face. Mel didn’t recall having seen that look before. “Man,” he said in a breath. “I might not know what to do with a boy.” “Well, we got that news just in time,” June said, leaving the exam room. “Yeah, right before the shower,” Susan added, following her. “I really thought I had it nailed,” John said. “I feel betrayed, in a way.” Mel looked up into her husband’s eyes and watched as a slow, powerful grin appeared. “What are you thinking, Jack?” she asked him. “That I can’t wait to call my brothers-in-law, the slackers.” * "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
90
" When he came out of the kitchen he saw her struggling out of her jacket, like maybe she was stiff or sore. The sight of it stopped him briefly and made him frown. She threw a look over her shoulder, as if she was caught doing something bad. Preacher put the food in front of her, his mind spinning. She was maybe five foot five and slight. She wore jeans and her curly brown hair was tucked through the back of the ball cap like a ponytail. She looked like a girl, but he guessed she was at least in her twenties. Maybe she’d been in a car accident, but it was more likely someone had smacked her around. The thought alone got him a little hot inside. “That looks great,” she said, accepting the soup. He went back behind the bar while she ate. She shoveled the soup in, smeared the bread with butter and ate it ravenously. Halfway through with her meal she gave him a sheepish, almost apologetic smile. It tore through him, that bruised face, split lip. Her hunger. When "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
92
" Pretty rough-looking bruise you have there,” Preacher said. “Can I get you anything for that lip? I have a first aid kit in the kitchen.” “I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. “How about if we settle up and—” “I don’t have anything for a kid’s fever. Except a room. With a lock on the door so you feel safe. You don’t want to pass up an offer like that in this weather, with a kid who might be coming down with something. I look big and mean, but I’m about as safe as you get. Unless you’re wildlife.” He grinned at her. “You don’t look mean,” she said timidly. “It can make women and little kids real nervous—and I hate that part. You on the run?” he asked her. She lowered her eyes. “What d’you think? I’m gonna call the cops? Who did that to you?” She immediately started to cry. “Aw. Hey. Don’t.” She put her head down on folded arms on the tabletop and sobbed. “Aw. Come on. Don’t do that. I never know what to do.” Hesitatingly, squeamishly, he touched her back and she jumped. He touched one of her hands, very lightly. “Come on, don’t cry. Maybe I can help.” “No. You can’t.” “Never know,” he said, lightly patting her hand. She "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
93
" It was an accident. It was really stupid, but I was struggling with Chris—” She stopped suddenly and looked around nervously, as though worried about being overheard. She licked her lower lip. “I was trying to get Christopher in the car, hanging on to stuff, and I opened the door right into my face. Hard. You shouldn’t be in a hurry, you know? It was just a little accident. It’s fine.” She lifted the napkin to her nose. “Right,” Preacher said. “Sure. Too bad about that. Looks sore.” “It’ll be fine.” “Sure it will. So—what’s your name?” When she didn’t answer for a long moment, he said, “It’s okay. I’m not going to repeat it. If anyone came looking for you, I’d never mention seeing you.” Her eyes grew round and her mouth stood open slightly. “Oh, damn, that was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it?” he said. “All I mean is, if you’re hiding or running, it’s okay. You can hide or run here. I won’t give you up. What’s your name?” She reached out and ran her fingers gently through the boy’s hair. Silent. Preacher got up and flipped off the Open sign and threw the latch on the door. “There,” he said, sitting down with her again, the little boy taking up much of the table beside them. “Try to take it easy,” he said softly. “No one here’s gonna hurt you. I can be a friend. I’m sure not scared of the weak dick who’d do that to a woman. Sorry.” She looked down to avoid eye contact. “It was the car door....” “Not afraid of any mean old car door, either,” he said. She gave a little huff of laughter, but had trouble looking him in the eye. "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
95
" Here’s to your recovery, bud. It’s going to be quick and powerful.” “Hope God heard that,” Mike said, and took a long, refreshing pull. “The doc said I’d need three months to start feeling better and I’ve only given it six weeks, but...” And then she came out from the kitchen. Mike almost choked on his words. She smiled at him and said, “Hello. You must be Mike.” She went to stand next to Preacher, and he, with his eyes focused on the shine in Mike’s, dropped an arm around her shoulders, claiming her. God, Mike thought. Preacher has a woman. And what a woman. “Yeah,” Mike said slowly. She was gorgeous. Soft, light brown hair fell in silky curves to her shoulders. She had skin like creamy satin and peach-colored lips, a little line, a scar in her lower lip. He knew what that was about, he remembered better now. And warm, sexy green eyes surrounded by a lot of dark lashes and perfectly arched brows. With Preacher’s arm around her, she leaned against him. “I just don’t get it,” Mike said with a laugh. “You two somehow found the most beautiful, sexiest women in the state right here in the backwoods. Shouldn’t there be at least one of you in Los Angeles?” “Actually, we were both from Los Angeles,” Mel said. “And fortunately, both found our way to the backwoods.” No way Preacher knows what he’s holding, Mike thought. And Preacher, knowing Mike’s careless ways with women, just about anyone’s woman, might feel a little threatened at the moment, even given the crippled hand and cane. Little did he know... “Well, damn,” Mike said, lifting his glass. “To your good fortune. All of you. "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
96
" What’s your name?” he asked again. She pursed her lips tight, shaking her head. Her eyes welled up again. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Really.” “Paige,” she whispered, a tear running down her cheek. “Paige,” she repeated in a small voice. “Yeah, that’s good. That’s a pretty name. You can say your name around here without being afraid.” “Your name?” “John,” he said, then wondered why he had done that. Something about her, he guessed. “John Middleton. No one calls me John, though. I’m known as Preacher.” “You’re a preacher?” “No,” he said with a short laugh. “Way far from it. The only one ever to call me John was my mother.” “What did your father call you?” she asked him. “Kid,” he said, and smiled. “Hey, kid,” he emphasized. “Why do they call you Preacher?” “Aw,” he said, ducking shyly. “I don’t know. I got the nickname way back, when I was just a kid in the Marine Corps. The boys said I was kinda straitlaced and uptight.” “Really? Are you?” “Nah, not really,” he said. “I never used to curse at all. I used to go to mass, when there was a mass. I grew up around priests and nuns—my mother was real devout. None of the boys ever went to mass, that I remember. And I kind of hung back when they went out to get drunk and look for women. I don’t know...I never felt like doing that. I’m not good with women.” He smiled suddenly. “That should be obvious right away, huh? And getting drunk never really appealed to me.” “But you have a bar?” she asked. “It’s Jack’s bar. He watches over people real good. We don’t let anybody out of here if they’re not safe, you know? I like a shot at the end of the day, but no reason to get a headache over it, right?” He grinned at her. “Should I call you John?” she asked him. “Or Preacher?” “Whatever you want.” “John,” she said. “Okay?” “If you want. Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I like that. Been a while since anyone called me that.” She "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
98
" Mike was up at the bar when Preacher came back downstairs from story time. Jack exited, leaving Preacher to lock up, and Mike asked for another drink. Then he started to grumble. He was frustrated with the arm, the pain, the clumsiness. A few other things. Preacher poured himself his closing shot and stood behind the bar, listening to Mike complain, nodding every so often, saying, “Yeah, buddy. Yeah.” “Can’t lift the gun, can’t lift a lot of things. Know the true meaning of ‘weak dick,’” he said morosely. Preacher’s eyebrows lifted and Mike looked up at his face, glassy-eyed. “That’s right, the old boy’s dead and gone. May as well have shot it off....” Preacher lifted his drink. “You’re the only guy I know who’d complain about not getting laid in a few weeks because he’s been in a coma,” Preacher said. “I guess you thought you could get lucky even while you were unconscious....” “That’s what you know,” he slurred. “Do I look like I’m unconscious now?” “Hey, man, there aren’t all that many women around here. You just might have to do without for a bit....” “What do you see when you wake up in the morning, Preacher? A nice tent, huh? I see the...the...the great plains.” Preacher "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)
100
" When Mel and Jack left the bar together at the end of the day, Paige leaned against Preacher and whispered, “I can’t wait until we’re like that.” “Fat?” he asked, chuckling. “Fat, full, ready to pop with a new baby. I’m thinking of going off those birth control pills,” she said. “Anytime you’re ready,” he said, putting his arms around her. “I told you, I’m in all the way.” “Hmm, that’s so nice. I’m going to give Christopher his bath while you finish up and close the bar.” “I’ll be up in a minute,” he said, giving her a loving pat on the rump. It "
― Robyn Carr , Shelter Mountain (Virgin River, #2)