Читать книгу Temptation Ridge - Robyn Carr, Robyn Carr - Страница 10

The first couple of weeks in Virgin River, Shelby had to make some adjustments she hadn’t expected. At the Booth household she was part of a family—an active, busy, very present family in which she was the fifth member. It was a new experience.

When Tom came home from boot camp shortly after her arrival, for ten days of leave before going to West Point, the family grew again. Vanni and Paul brought the baby into their room and Shelby took the combination guest room/nursery so Tom could have his room back. And, if Tom wasn’t missing from the household, his girlfriend, Brenda, was present with him—they were inseparable. The Booth house was spacious, but Shelby felt they were packed in like sardines. She was used to having a lot of space in her tiny Bodega Bay house with just her mother. Periods of solitude. Quiet. There was no solitude now unless she went for a ride. And invariably, someone wanted to go with her.

There was a new development that took Shelby by complete surprise; she never even smelled it in the wind. Vanni whispered it to Shelby one night when Tommy was with Brenda and Walt was heading out the door. He said he was going for a beer, but Vanni said, “Beer, my eye. I’ll bet he’s going over to see Muriel and that beer takes a long time to drink. We won’t see him for dinner.” Then she winked. “Daddy’s got a woman.”

“No way!” Shelby said.

“Believe me,” Vanni grinned. “I suspected they were getting to be more than just neighbors, but then you arrived and Tom came home on leave, and he’s been sticking around a lot.”

“Do you know her?”

Vanni smiled. “Ever see that movie Never Too Late?”

“Yeah,” Shelby said, perplexed. “I loved that movie.”

“Muriel St. Claire. She played the new divorcée.”

Shelby gasped. “She’s here?”

“She bought the ranch downriver a little over a mile. She retired to Virgin River, is done making movies and is restoring the house herself. I’ve only seen Muriel and Dad in the same room three times—they’re playing it real cool. But let me tell you—their eyes twinkle when they’re together. I’ve asked Dad if we can have her to dinner soon and he says he doesn’t mind an evening away from the house now and then. He also says there’s plenty of time for that. I think he’s trying to keep her to himself. I’d bet my life something hot’s going on there, but neither of them will fess up. The second I ask questions, he clams right up.”

“Uncle Walt has a woman?” Shelby asked in shock. “A famous actress?”

“Well, it took him a long enough. I don’t think it even crossed his mind after my mother died, five years ago. It’s high time. Everyone needs someone. Age certainly has nothing to do with it. But I wish they’d loosen up. I’d like to hear about all the famous people she knows.”

Now they all had a special someone, her young cousin, even her Uncle Walt.

As a teenager, Shelby had been in most ways a typical girl, if a little on the shy side. She got good grades, had girlfriends, was active in school activities. She’d had a nice little part-time job at the library after school and had even gone through a few boyfriends. She went to games, slumber parties, dances. Her friends tended to run in a pack more often than as dating couples; some had high-school boyfriends who were serious, but most of them, including Shelby, were damn happy if they had dates to the homecoming dance or the prom.

She might’ve been a little more cautious than the average teenage girl—her mom had been very honest about her accidental pregnancy at the age of eighteen, her short marriage that had become a nonevent as she was divorced when Shelby was just a baby. No way Shelby was letting something like that happen to her. She knew she’d be a late bloomer.

She hadn’t thought it would be quite this late….

Shelby was only nineteen when the life typical of a girl her age halted and a whole new set of responsibilities took over. Uncle Walt had been more than willing to cover the cost of nursing-home care for his sister, but Shelby had said, “This isn’t going to be an issue for long. In fact, much sooner than I like to think about, she’ll be gone. She gave me her whole adult life, always putting me first. If I don’t give her a few years of mine, the rest of my life won’t matter a damn.”

Then it was over and time to think about what was ahead for her. Before Vanni had even uttered those words about Uncle Walt, Shelby had been thinking, I want to join the ranks of women my age, women who are my friends, both old and new, and have what they have—the relationship building, romantic and physical love, idealism and passion and even the struggles. She wanted all of it. She was due. She wanted to be whole.

She wanted a man.

Walt gave a couple of taps on Muriel’s guesthouse door, then pushed it open. Muriel had fixed up the old bunkhouse to live in while she worked on the larger house. Unlike most of the times he called on her, finding her in her work clothes and waiting for him to arrive before cleaning up, she was not only showered and changed, but had set a small table with plates and utensils and a candle in the middle. He smiled and handed her a sack of takeout from Jack’s bar, then bent to scratch behind the ears of two excited Labs, Luce and Buff. “Looks like a celebration,” he said, indicating the table.

“It is. I finished the floors upstairs. One coat of paint in the bedroom and hall and I could live there if I wanted to. And yesterday I bought a pie safe for the dining room. I found it up near Arcata at this little antique shop. It’s big—I can’t get it out of the truck bed, so I parked it in the barn. Maybe you’ll help me tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

She looked in the sack. “What is it?”

“Brisket, steamed red potatoes, green and wax beans.”

She inhaled. “Pie?”

“Of course pie.”

“Where did you tell your daughter and your niece you were going?” she asked, tilting her head and smiling at him.

“I told them I was going out for a beer,” he answered. And grinned.

“Walt,” she admonished. “Don’t you think you’re having a little too much fun with this? I bet you’re not fooling anyone. Besides, I’m not sure how I feel about being hidden like this.”

He got a startled expression on his face. “Muriel, I’m not hiding you. Not at all! And I did have a beer, while I waited for the food.”

“Then why haven’t you invited me to dinner with the family?”

“You want to come over for dinner?”

“Walt, I’m not going to let you get away with this. Remember, I know what I’m doing, I know about men. You’re not moving forward, you’re not backing off. I’m more than happy to be your good friend, as long as nothing’s wrong.”

He looked down briefly. “All right,” he said uneasily. “You caught me. I’m enjoying the hell out of this, Muriel. The riding, the dinners here with you, even when I’m helping you paint or sand or move furniture. But…I’m waiting for you to say something very Hollywood to me, like, I find romantic relationships pedestrian and beneath me. And I’m dreading it.”

She laughed at him. “What’s this? Isn’t this a relationship? And I’m enjoying it, too. Besides, that’s not what they say in Hollywood.”

“What do they say?”

“Well, it’s almost always in newsprint, right near the grocery checkout stand, and it usually sounds something like, St. Claire Caught In Sordid Affair. Or, St. Claire’s Husband Seen With Swimsuit Model. Or hooker.” She shrugged. “Or something equally gauche.” But he had such a soft expression on his hard, handsome face, it startled her eyes open wide. She put the take-out sack on the table and her hands on her hips. “Oh Jesus, you think I’m letting you come over and pester me all the time because you’re the only available man in my age group!”

He lifted one black bushy brow. “But am I?”

“That’s so irrelevant! Chasing a good-looking thirty-year-old was never beneath me!”

She made him laugh. That was the linchpin—she always made him laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me. Not that there are many of those, either.”

“Walt, for God’s sake, I have my own transportation if Virgin River isn’t amusing enough for me.” She stalked over to him, put her arms on his shoulders, got up on her toes and laid a lip-lock on him that shocked his eyebrows up high and his eyes round. But she kept at him until he finally put his big arms around her slim body, pulled her hard against him, let his lips open, opened hers and experienced, for the first time since they met almost three months ago, a wholly passionate, wet, deep kiss. It was fantastic. Delicious. And long. When he finally relaxed his arms a bit, she pulled back and gave him a whack in the chest. “Now stop being a fool or you’re going to mess this up. I’ll come to dinner Friday night. You cook. I’ll bring wine.”

“Okay, fine,” he said a little breathlessly. “Dinner. With the family.”

“Not because I’m getting ready to propose, but because I’d like to know your family. And more to the point, they’d like to know me, to be sure you’re in no danger.” She went to the sack and began removing cartons, placing them on the table.

“Do you suppose we’ll be doing that again?” he asked. “That kind of kissing?”

“Beats the hell out of those little pecks and pats, don’t you think?” she asked.

“I have to agree with that, yes,” he answered. Leave it to some aging starlet to bring a tough old general to his knees. In fact, he thought he felt his knees wobbling and a slight vibration under his skin. Given a little more time, he was going to feel something else; something he didn’t feel all that often, but often enough to know it still worked.

“Maybe after brisket. I’m a little annoyed with you at the moment.”

“Shame,” he said. “I’m completely happy with you.”

“I shouldn’t have to make the first move,” she complained. “Jesus. Men. They’re either too ambitious or not ambitious enough.” Her phone rang and she said, “Excuse me one second.”

He listened to her side of the conversation. “Hmm…Well, much as I appreciate you keeping me in mind, it would take something monumental to pull me back into films…. A year from now? We’ll see what you have a year from now, Mason. But really, I’m not going back to Los Angeles for some shitty little supporting role in a B movie—I’m having too much fun. And I have horses and dogs—they don’t transport all that easily. No, it’s not about the horses and dogs, it’s about being retired from acting, and not convinced you have a worthwhile project where I’m concerned. Fine, fine—send the script and I’ll look at it, but I highly doubt it’s going to change my mind, so be prepared for that. Yes, Mason—you, too.” She hung up.

Walt had an unpleasant look on his face. “You mind if I ask…”

“Mason. My agent.”

“And ex-husband? Fifteen years older than you? Isn’t he getting close to retirement himself…at seventy-one?”

“You’d never know it. The man’s going to be dancing on my grave.”

“Trying to get you to come back?” Walt asked.

“Trying to get me to work. And I’m not inclined to do that….” She looked at Walt and for just a second frowned at his frown. Then she laughed. “Oh, Walt, are you worried? Relax. He calls almost every day. He sends scripts sometimes—nothing but junk. But Mason has always been one to throw everything he has at the wall to see what sticks.” She walked up against him and rubbed her hands over his chest. “Really, he’d have to come at me with something as good as Cat on a Hot Tin Roof or Gone with the Wind to even get my attention.” She smiled at him. “Now, can we please have some of Preacher’s brisket? You’ve been a little high maintenance tonight. Not like you. And I’m starving!”

He ran his big rough hands through her soft blond hair. “You’re starving? When we met, you didn’t eat anything but celery and hummus.”

“Yeah, I know. And hanging out with you is starting to show on my rump.”

“Looks damn fine to me, Muriel. Light the candle and load up your plate.” And he smiled.

A few days later, Vanessa and Shelby were in a fever of excitement as they tidied the house for their famous dinner guest. They would have her captive, to ask all the movie-star questions they were kicking around, trying them out on each other. They wanted the scoop, but didn’t want to be a tabloidlike invasive. Of course, they wanted to know things like, who was the sexiest man you ever slept with?

“You can’t ask that!” Shelby said with a gasp.

“Of course not,” Vanessa agreed. “Try to think if there’s a way to ask her which big Hollywood hunk turned out to be the biggest dud?”

Giggles erupted from both of them.

Walt listened to a lot of this from the kitchen. He had insisted he was cooking—it was what he had promised Muriel. And he found himself wondering about the answer to those questions, himself. Vanessa and Shelby shouldn’t ask, but given time, he might.

Tom, who had only a couple more days of leave before West Point, brought Brenda. They arrived just minutes before Muriel, and once Brenda got with Vanni and Shelby, the level of excitement rose again.

When Muriel stepped into his house, she handed over two bottles of wine. Then she turned to find herself being stared down by three very expectant, excited, flushed female faces. She laughed. “Well, now, before you get started, I don’t kiss and tell.”

Three pair of cheeks flamed, but they also melted into laughter.

Things went easy after that. They sat together at the big dining-room table and had wine and hors d’oeuvres and Hollywood questions. Vanni, Brenda and Shelby could give as good as they got—they shared all the Virgin River gossip from as far back as they could remember or had heard. The thing was, if these young women had been true stargazers, they would know that Muriel only told stories that had already been reported and were common knowledge. She was crafty—she’d been down this road before. Her lifestyle was fantasy for the civilians. But she was being completely honest, she didn’t kiss and tell. She knew things the Enquirer would pay good money for. It was in the vault of her memory.

As far as she could tell, all the Virgin River stories, from hot romances to fights, deaths, despair and victories, were real. “And one of the most talked-about romances in town at the moment is between a certain very popular, accomplished high-school senior and a West Point cadet,” Vanni said, lifting an eyebrow.

“No!” Brenda said in shock. “People talk about us?”

Everyone laughed that she could be so naive.

“Do they say anything bad?” she wanted to know, and they laughed harder.

Finally it was Muriel who said, “Of course not, Brenda. You’re the darling couple. Everyone roots for you to make it through West Point and college, staying together. You seem perfect for each other.”

“Really?” she asked, lifting her head, straightening her neck proudly. It was quite something at seventeen to be complimented by someone like Muriel St. Claire.

Although they were at it till quite late, through coffee and cheesecake, eventually the evening had to come to a close. Walt and Muriel insisted on doing the dishes together. “It’s what Muriel promised, since she’d donate a kidney before she’d actually consider cooking,” Walt said.

And once they were alone in the kitchen, he came up behind her at the sink and kissed her neck. “You handled that whole interrogation beautifully. Classic recon—evasion, resistance, escape. We could have used you in the army.”

She turned in his arms. “What I did for a living was much more dangerous. But I agree with you, I am good.”

“Then let’s get this kitchen cleaned up so I can follow you home, spend a little time away from the kids.”

“I can get into that idea,” she said, grinning.

At the other end of the house, Tom led Brenda out the front door, pulled her into his arms, making her giggle. He covered her lips in a passionate kiss and against them asked, “How does it feel to be the pretty half of the darling couple?”

“I can’t think about it,” she said. “It reminds me, we only have two more days together before you go.”

“Then we better get alone. How about that?”

“Hmm, please. The sooner the better.”

And in the family room, in front of the fireplace, Paul sat in a large leather chair with Vanessa on his lap. She ran her fingers around his ear and put little kisses on his temple. They could hear the general and Muriel laughing in the kitchen, the sound of Tom’s little truck firing up in the driveway as he took his girlfriend away. “How’s the countdown on the house?” she whispered.

“I’m working as fast as I can. I can’t wait until we have our own place.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “As soon as I get a little caught up on the building, let’s sneak up to Grants Pass and not tell anyone we’re there.”

She giggled. “Paul, all we have to do is park the baby with your mother. No one will bother us if she has her hands full of little Matt. We can do whatever we want.”

He growled and nuzzled her neck. “Is there any question in your mind about what I want?”

She sighed, snuggling closer.

Outside the great room on the deck, hearing the laughter in the kitchen, the engine of the little truck, the smooching in front of the fire, Shelby looked up at the cool, early-fall sky. She tried to imagine her mother’s face amidst the stars, the way she looked before she got sick—so energetic, so pretty and full of good humor and sass. As she so often did, she transported her thoughts to her mom.

I wish you could have been at the table with us tonight; it was so fun. Everyone was laughing, poking fun, telling jokes, gossiping. They were all so loud. And seeing Walt with a woman—it’s so different than the way he was with Aunt Peg. More playful. He’s happy, Mom, having fun like I never thought he could. And Muriel, for a famous person, she’s so silly, so funny. And you should see Vanni and Paul together. There were times I worried so much about Vanni, after losing first her mom and then her young husband—I was afraid she’d never be truly happy again. Paul is such a blessing to her, to the whole family. And I know that Tom and Brenda think only about how difficult it’s going to be for them to be apart, but just the way they look at each other…Ahhhh, it reminds me a little of all those chick flicks we watched together. Man oh man, there’s so much love in the air around here. Really, I didn’t think this little town could hold so much life, so much romance. I’m so lucky to have this place, to be here with my family….

Sometimes, even with all these people around, I still miss you so much….

Sometimes I’m still so lonely….

Do you think my turn will ever come? I wonder that all the time.

Mel Sheridan had worked with Doc Mullins for over two years and in that time had married Jack and produced two children. The job hadn’t been easy, Doc being a cantankerous sort, but they had developed a close working relationship and a very special friendship. They didn’t agree on all that much, but they understood each other quite well. She was all about following the legal statutes to the letter while he was more concerned with being sure his people, his town, got by as well as they could, regardless of little things like laws. Getting down to it—Doc Mullins would risk anything to see his job was done, and done well.

Mel came to realize he’d probably delivered most of the town; at least everyone under forty. He’d been so much more than just a doctor here. He was the backbone of this town; their confessor, friend and healer. He didn’t have any other family. Virgin River was his family.

And Mel and Doc, while neither of them was the least sentimental, had come to love each other. There was a grudging mutual respect—he maintained he didn’t need some uppity nurse to get the job done, while she chided that he was so stubborn and difficult he could make those asshole surgical residents she’d worked with in Los Angeles look like a bunch of candy asses. It was true love.

He didn’t see her as a daughter nor did she see him as a father figure, but he did regard her children as one might grandchildren. He never said as much, but the twinkle in his eyes when he picked one of them up was enough. And it filled her heart with pride and affection.

Mel was at the clinic first thing in the morning, leaning up against the kitchen sink sipping a cup of coffee, when he limped into the room. “Morning,” he growled.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said with a grin. “How’s the arthritis today?”

“Worst day of my goddamn life.” He reached into the cupboard over the sink and grabbed a bottle of anti-inflammatory capsules, shaking a couple out.

“Worse than yesterday, which was the worst day of your goddamn life?” she asked.

He turned to look at her and lifted one white, bushy brow. “Yes,” he said, swallowing the pills without water.

“Hmm, sorry then,” she said. “Must be awful. Say, listen—I’ve worked out a couple of things with Shelby. She’s going to do some babysitting. She’s a godsend, really. Brie’s getting pretty pregnant and though she loves keeping the kids for me on Wednesdays, I think it’s a good idea to spell her, let her contemplate her uterus and her own bundle of joy. Plus, Shelby loves hanging around here. So we’ll let her help out here, watching kids, assisting in exams, learning the workings of a country clinic. She’d get to see a side of medicine that’s not limited to caring for someone who’s terminal. She’s so anxious to pitch in. How’s that sound to you?”

“The babysitting will help you,” he said. “I don’t know if we’ll ever have enough work here to ask her to pitch in.”

“I know. But she has time on her hands. And nursing is different than caregiving. I realize it’s not the experience she’ll get when she’s finally in school, but it’s something. You can always loosen up and tell her stories of country doctoring—she’d love that. And when I have patients, I’ll have her with me. Plus, I enjoy her company. She’s sweet and sharp. I think of her as kind of a protégée. I’ve never had one of those before. I’ve always been one.” She grinned at him.

“Melinda, we’re going to bore her to death,” he said.

“You can always teach her to play gin. Maybe you can find a girl you can actually beat.”

“When I think about one more woman around here, it gives me heartburn,” he said.

“You shouldn’t be having so much heartburn, especially with your gallbladder gone. Maybe it’s acid reflux. Are you having pain?”

“Ach,” he said. “I’m seventy-two with arthritis. What do you think?”

She shrugged. “I think we should check it out.”

“Bah,” he scoffed. “I’m fine. I’m old, that’s all. I’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.”

She laughed at him. He hadn’t changed much in her two years there. He was using his cane a great deal more these days—the arthritis was wearing him down. He was an old seventy-two—his life had not been an easy one. He’d worked his way through college and medical school with no help from family and spent the next forty-five years caring for the needs of a town single-handedly, with only the most rudimentary equipment, and with no liability insurance. When she had lifted her eyebrows at that, shocked, he merely shrugged and said, “We don’t sue each other here. At least not over medical aid.”

Doc had never married, had no children, and had told Mel there was no extended family. Mel had a great deal of affection for him, even if he did ruffle her feathers from time to time. He had, indeed, been ridden hard.

“If it’s acid reflux, they have some really good stuff for that now,” she said.

“I know this, Melinda. I’m a doctor.”

“And not just any doctor,” she said with a smile. “The biggest pain-in-the-ass doctor in three counties. Suit yourself.” And then she thought of something. “You know, you could ask Preacher to come up with some meals that don’t stir up that heartburn so much….”

“Why would I do that? He’s a dream in the kitchen.”

“Well, I’ve asked him for some low-fat meals. He was very agreeable, for Preacher. I’ve put on some weight since I got here.”

He lifted his glasses to his forehead and peered at her lower half. “Hmm,” he said.

“You did not just do that!”

“Did I say a word?” he asked, letting his glasses drop into place. She hmmphed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Quit complaining about your weight,” he said, rubbing a hand over his big belly. “At least you have the advantage of giving birth to most of yours.”

She lifted a mean little eyebrow. “You could give up that whiskey you have at the end of every day. That might help with the heartburn.”

“Melinda,” he said gravely, “I’d rather have needles in my eyes.”