My Kind of Christmas by Robyn Carr
Now, two of the most important people in his life were gone.
When he got back to his cabin, he didn’t even go inside. He sat on the deck and absorbed the view. He thought about what had brought him here to Virgin River. Damn, life could get empty real fast.
And then this little med student comes along with such warmth, sincerity and passion for life. What a breath of fresh air. It didn’t hurt that she was adorable, gutsy and funny. He probably should stay far away from her, but he clearly was at her mercy—he admired her. Truthfully, he was enthralled. Life played some very strange tricks, sticking him with completely inappropriate feelings for a young woman he’d known for all of an hour. She was too young. On a totally different life path. Vulnerable but alluring. He had to admit, however, her mere presence had taken all the sting out of his loneliness for a little while. But she was not right for him.
Even though his brothers didn’t know it, he’d given his word to Jake—he would take care of Marie and Daniel. Marie needed him.
A creature of habit, he decided to call Marie. “How are you today?” he asked once she picked up.
“Today is a pretty good day,” she said. “Things are quieting down in the post-Thanksgiving haze. You?”
“Not bad, but things aren’t so quiet. It’s getting interesting in Virgin River. They’re putting up the big tree, for one thing—it’s about thirty feet tall and decorated in military insignia.”
“Wow, that’s huge for a little town.”
“This town is only little on the outside,” he said.
Ten minutes later he was on his way back into town to watch the tree trimming and to see if there was anything or anyone interesting in one of those cherry pickers.
* * *
Jack was descending in the bucket of the cherry picker when Angie pulled into town and parked across the street by the clinic. She met him as he got out. “You went missing for a while,” he observed.
“I was exploring a little bit,” she said. “Is it my turn?”
“Awww, I don’t know, Ange.…”
“Come on.”
“I might need a note from your doctor.”
She laughed at him, nudged him to one side and inserted herself in the bucket. “Explain the controls, please,” she said. “I’ll be very careful.”
He sighed, defeated. Sometimes he got so tired of headstrong women. He explained the levers in the control box, though with the diagrams right beside the controls, it was pretty self-explanatory. “Now, listen, I don’t want you over ten feet off the ground,” he said.
“Seriously?”
“Do you doubt I’ll climb up this boom and bring you down?” he asked.
“This is getting really old,” Angie said, and with that, she rose to the task. She went up ten feet, then left, then right, then up a few feet more, left and right, then higher.
“Angela,” he warned.
She went up a bit farther. “I’m fine,” she said. “I love this. I think I might decorate the whole tree for you. At least the top part.”
“Angela LaCroix,” he called. “Lower, please.”
She leaned out of the box and grinned at him. “Are you going to ground me?”
Mel was standing beside him, looking up. “Angie, see that red streamer to your left? Pull that one a little right please, it’s all wonkie.”
She reached out of the bucket and Jack flinched. “Got it,” she said. “Tell me when it’s straight.”
“Better,” Mel said. “Now move around and pull the white one over.”
“Mel,” Jack said. “She’s just having a ride. I want her down!”
“Jack, take it easy, she’s twenty-three, not three. Better, Ange. If I give you some balls, want to hang them up there?”
She leaned out of the bucket and stared down. “If I come down there to get them, your husband is going to grab me.”
“No, he won’t,” she said. “I’ll hold him down. Come on.”
Jack growled and began to pace. He spoke softly to Mel. “What if she gets dizzy?”
“Then she’ll come down. She’s better off in the bucket than on a ladder. Angie, are you dizzy?”
“Of course not,” she said, lowering herself. She leaned over and accepted a box of shiny gold balls from Mel. Then she quickly went up again to avoid Jack.
“Leave plenty of room for the unit badges we’ll also use as ornaments.”
“Will do,” she said, raising the cherry picker while holding on to the ornaments.
Jack watched her some, paced some, grumbled some. The number of people in the street and around the bar grew, but Jack was focused on Angie. No one paid any attention to his worries; Mel continued to yell up at Angie to move a ball or fix some garland. Angie laughed happily as she ran the cherry picker down to the ground, then up again with more ornaments. Or possibly she was laughing at her uncle Jack.
Jack had been oblivious to what was going on around him until he noticed that Angie stopped in midair and looked across the street. Jack followed her line of vision to see Patrick Riordan leaning against his Jeep, watching her. As Jack glanced between the two of them, Angie gave a wave and Patrick waved back.
Crap, he thought.
Well, he should’ve known—it was written all over her face that she was smitten with Patrick’s good looks. Jack stopped pacing because Angie was all done playing around in the cherry picker now that Patrick had appeared. She brought it down, stepped out and brushed off her jeans. Her tight jeans.
“Thanks, I’ll take over,” Mel said, as though there wasn’t a thing in the world to be worried about.
“That was fun,” Angie said to her uncle.
Jack glowered.
“What?” she asked.
Jack tilted his head and glanced to the right, across the street, where Patrick patiently waited for her to be finished.
“Oh, excuse me,” Angie said. And she walked casually across the street as though this was perfectly fine.
It was not perfectly fine in Jack’s opinion.
Mel was raising the bucket with her box of ornaments while Jack was following Angie with his eyes. But Angie didn’t look back. She had Patrick in her crosshairs.
So Jack looked around until he spotted Luke Riordan with young Brett on his hip. He walked over to him and said, “Luke.”
“Looking good, Jack.”
“Look over there, Luke,” he said, again with the head tilt. “Your brother.”
“Yeah, he made it to town for the tree. That’s good. I think he spends too much time alone these days.”
“What’s up with Patrick, anyway?” Jack asked.
“Flying stuff,” Luke said with a shrug. “You know. Threw him for a while, made him rethink the Navy. He just needs some decompression time. He’ll be fine.”
“What kind of flying stuff?”
Luke turned his head to meet eyes with Jack. “His wingman went down.”
Jack just whistled.
“He got some leave,” Luke went on. “He has a decision to make. He always planned on a Navy career, but I guess he’s rethinking it. He has until Christmas to figure it out. Who’s the girl?”
Right about then Patrick put a hand on Angie’s shoulder. She looked up at him, he looked down at her. Jack shivered. “My niece, up for a visit.”
“Nice,” Luke said.
“She’s been valedictorian twice in her life already—for her high school class and for her college class. She’s a medical student, but she was in a car accident and had to take some time off. We’re all hoping she plans to go back to med school after the holidays. That’s what everyone in the family wants. Listen, Luke—see this?” he said, looking across the street to where Patrick and Angie stood talking. “This is Patrick’s second trip into town today. He’s in
“What?”
“My niece and your brother,” Jack said irritably.
“Aw, lighten up. Patrick’s a good kid.”
“He’s no kid,” Jack said. “How old is Patrick?”
Luke shrugged. “I guess about thirty. Thirty-two. Or three.”
“Angie is twenty-three. And she needs to go back to school.”
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Talk to him. Tell him the girl is barely out of high school and he needs to move on.”
“Aw, Jack…” Luke shook his head. “She’s out of college. And she’s smart. I mean—valedictorian? I’m lucky I graduated high school.”
“He’s been in the bar, and I hate to say it about one of your brothers, but he’s got attitude, Luke. Doesn’t talk, isn’t friendly, acts all fucked up and miserable. And you say his wingman went down? Angie can’t take on stuff like that. She’s just a girl. A girl with her own issues.”
Luke started to laugh.
“What’s funny?” Jack asked.
“He looks pretty friendly to me,” Luke said.
And sure enough, Patrick was smiling. Laughing. Touching her with familiarity.
Jack cringed. “Ah, dammit, he’s playing around with her hair!”
Luke laughed a little harder. “I’ve played with hair…you’ve played with hair....”
“She’s too young! She’s barely recovered from a bad car accident!” He grumbled something and then said, “I’m responsible for her.”
“Well, she’s over twenty-one so I bet she doesn’t let you stand responsible for too much.”
“You got that right,” he muttered. “Her mother is my older sister. I really don’t want to go a round with her. She’s a pain in my ass.”
“Then don’t. You better ease up, Jack. I don’t think you’re going to have much influence here. And I could talk to him, but it wouldn’t do any good.”
“I don’t want that to happen,” he said glumly.
“Out of my hands. He’s a Riordan. The fact that he’s always been a real docile and sweet Riordan makes no difference at all.”
“Look, I like you Riordan boys just fine,” Jack said. “But the lot of you—you’re scrappy, you’re ornery and you’re like heat-seeking missiles. That’s my niece!”
“Yeah, Riordans are a lot like Jack Sheridan,” Luke pointed out.
“Irrelevant,” Jack said.
“That Riordan…if he’s got his eye on a target—hey, nothing any of us can do. That’s just how it is. You of all people should understand that. Besides, at thirty-eight I married a twenty-five-year-old and no one had a headache about that.”
“As I recall, her uncle was a little annoyed....”
“We had some things to work out, me and Uncle Walt. But the rest of you old boys just laughed at me, said I’d be going to college graduations with a walker.”
Jack ground his teeth. Then, while he watched Angie and Patrick, he asked, “You and Shelby planning more kids?”
“Why?”
“Because I wish a girl on you!” And then Jack stomped off into the bar.
* * *
Angie couldn’t help how she felt when she saw Patrick standing across the street watching her. He’d come back. If he’d just gone into the bar, it wouldn’t have meant as much, but he had no interest in the bar—he wanted to see her in the cherry picker. It was like he was rooting for her.
And she wanted him to see her.
She walked across the street to him. “You got your ride,” he said.
“I did. Is Uncle Jack still watching me?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets and laughing a little. “He’s going to be a problem, isn’t he?”
“Completely.”
“How would you like to handle that?” Patrick asked.
“Do you think if we ignore him, he’ll go away?”
“I have my doubts,” Patrick said. “He’s a little on the grouchy side.”
“So are you,” she pointed out.
“Aw, I’m coming around. He isn’t going to beat me up, is he?”
“If he does, I’ll never speak to him again and, trust me, that would sting. I’m his favorite. He doesn’t admit that because he has a whole flock of nieces, but I am his favorite. But I’m getting a little bored with this—he’s treating me like a twelve-year-old virgin.”
Patrick risked his life by fingering a strand of her hair and slipping it behind her ear. “You’re not, are you?”
Here’s where Angie might have a little trouble. She was smart, but she wasn’t worldly. Especially with men. One of her regrets, actually. She was twenty-three and she’d had a couple of boyfriends and only one had been semiserious. Oh, Alex had been serious to her, but apparently he hadn’t been serious about her. She just shook her head and said, “I told you, I’m twenty-three.”
“I see,” he said. “That was obviously half an answer.”
“The whole answer is no.”
He laughed at her and asked, “What are your plans for the weekend?”
“Tree decorating. And then since everyone is in town for the tree, Mel is going to give me an orientation at the clinic today so that Monday morning I can start helping her out. That’s about it.”
“I have an idea. Why don’t you come to my place tonight. I’ll cook.”
“Dinner?” she asked. “Did you just invite me to dinner?”
“I did. I’m going to try to make up for being so unfriendly—I’m actually a nice guy. Too old for you, but nice. I’m going into Fortuna to get a few things—I make a mean chili and it’ll taste good on a cold night. But if you say yes, I want you to tell Jack where you’re going to be and that you’ll be perfectly safe with that dangerous Riordan.” He laughed and added, “I should’ve known this would happen—my brothers haven’t all been easygoing. I got a reputation by association. So, any interest in a bowl of chili and a fire?”
“Do you have saltines? And shredded cheddar?”
“I will have. Will you tell your uncle?”
She shook her head. “Nope. But I’ll tell Mel so if he’s looking for me, she can keep him under control.”
“I’m serious, Angie—you’ll be in good hands. I’ll treat you like the little sister I never had.”
She smirked and said, “Sounds very exciting. I can hardly wait. What time?”
* * *
Later that afternoon Mel gave Angie a tour of the clinic, which was in an old house that had belonged to the town doctor before he died. He had willed it to Mel. The living room functioned as the waiting room and was decorated like someone’s grandmother’s living room. The dining room was the reception center and file storage. Downstairs also held the kitchen, two small exam/treatment rooms and a little office. Upstairs were a couple of bedrooms—one made up as a hospital room, one for a doctor or practitioner staying overnight, plus a roomy bathroom. Mel showed her where all the supplies were, where the drugs and treatment kits were kept and showed her how to operate the rather old-fashioned autoclaves for sterilizing.
“I love this,” Angie said.
“We could use a lot of updating, but we’re a poor town. Our ace in the hole is the ambulance, which allows us to transport patients to better facilities if necessary.”
“I think it’s wonderful. Do you know what a town in Ethiopia would give for something this grand?”
Mel was stopped in her tracks, focused on Angie’s face. “Hey. What’s going on with you? That was a pretty interesting comment.”
“Nothing much,” she said. “I just think this is—”
“Bullshit. I see those wheels turning. Talk to me.”
Mel smiled softly. “I’ve only known you for five years, yet in that short time I’ve grown accustomed to the way you think out of the box.”
“But look at this place, Mel—you make a difference here, I know it. When people come here who don’t have money or insurance, they get the help they need. Don’t they?”
“We can’t do everything, but they get our best.”
“And I’ve heard you say—sometimes you’re paid in eggs.”
She laughed. “We’re paid in very interesting ways. One very darling lady from back in the mountains fancies herself a well-known psychic—she offered to pay me by telling me my future.”
Angie gasped. “What is in your future?”
“I can only guess! My past is shocking enough—why would I want to know my future?”
“But what if it’s only wonderful?”
“Then it will still be wonderful when it gets here. Ange, I wouldn’t go to a psychic. I have enough to worry about.”
“But I hear they never tell you the bad stuff!”
“Really?” Mel asked with raised brow. “Then what’s the point? If they don’t tell you what to look out for, what’s the good of hearing about that stuff that will work out just fine, anyway?”
“Oh, there’s so much more to it! I love the idea of a psychic! Maybe I’ll go—do you still have your freebie?”
“I might, but I don’t know…”
“Well, never mind. I have something to tell you.” A slight blush crept up her cheeks as she said, “I’m going to be having dinner with Patrick Riordan tonight. He’s going to cook for us. He insisted I tell Uncle Jack where I’d be and with whom, just in case there’s some worry. But I’m not telling Uncle Jack—he’s gone a little around the bend where I’m concerned. So I’m telling you.”