Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)

Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2) Page 54

Author: Robyn Carr

Rick grinned. “If I do okay, you’ll take all the credit.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Jack said. “You giving notice?”

“Not really, Jack. I’m going right away. I was hoping you’d take me to the bus in Garberville.”

“What’s right away?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You took the oath?” he asked, and Rick nodded. “We don’t even have time to send you off?”

Rick shook his head. “All I wanted was to make sure Liz is okay. That I can go and she’ll be okay.”

“And…?”

“She’s not thrilled, but she’s gotten pretty tough. She says she’ll write to me, but you know what? She’s so young. When I’m out of the picture awhile, she’ll have a chance to start over without this thing we went through together hanging all over her like a dark cloud. I’ll almost be happier if she doesn’t write to me. That would mean she’s moving on.”

“You want her to move on, man?” Preacher asked.

“That’s one of the reasons I have to do something like this. I don’t know that, either. Who knows what me and Lizzie had? Besides a baby that didn’t live.” He looked down. “I was working so hard at doing the best I could, I never had time to check, see what I’d be feeling if there wasn’t any pressure. And neither did she. That’s just not fair to her.”

“What about college, Rick?” Preacher asked. “I thought between the three of us, one would go to college at least.”

“There’s time, if I want to do that. I didn’t sign up for life. I signed up for four years.”

“Just one thing,” Jack said. “This isn’t some idiotic idea you got in your head to make us proud, is it? Because you know we’re proud. You know we couldn’t be more proud. You get that, right?”

Rick smiled. “You guys being proud is what got me through. Nah, it’s not about that. I think if I grieve this anymore, I’ll die inside. I have to go. Do something. Start something important. I have to push on something that’ll push back.”

“Semper, she’ll push back, Rick,” Preacher said. “She’ll push back real hard, like you want.”

Jack lifted a glass. “Do we drink to hardness?”

“That’ll work,” Rick said. “Say you support me. Say you respect my choice.”

“You’re a man, Rick. You thought it through, made a decision. Here’s to you.”

They drank. Preacher ducked his head away and gave a sniff. “You’re killing me, man,” he said.

Rick reached across the bar and grabbed the big man’s good arm, giving it a shake. He swallowed hard. “Will you guys look after my grandma? Make sure she’s all right?”

“What did she say about this, Rick?” Jack asked him.

He lifted his chin bravely. “She said she understands. She has a lot of pride, you know. She doesn’t want me hanging out here, taking care of her. And she knows this has been really tough for me—that I have to get past it. Any way I can.”

“There’s a good woman,” Preacher said. “We’ll watch out for her.”

“Thanks.” Rick stood from the bar stool. “You guys gonna be okay?”

“Hey,” Jack said. “We’re tough. What time do we leave?”

“Seven in the morning. I’ll be down.”

The morning came way too soon for all of them. Rick showed up with his packed duffel, but couldn’t escape the gathering at the bar. Mike was there to send him off. No way Mel was going to let him go without a tearful hug. Nor Paige nor Doc. Even Chris was up bright and early, and while still in his pajamas, he grabbed Rick’s neck and had to be pried loose. Connie and Ron were there, emotional at the parting. Preacher almost killed him with his one-armed bear hug. “God,” Preacher said, “you better be careful.”

“Hey, it’s just Basic. They can’t do too much to me at Basic. But yeah, Preach. I’ll be real careful, you don’t have to worry about that.”

It was pretty hard to talk on the way to Garberville. Jack was feeling a powerful ache in his chest. And a lump in his throat.

“I’m excited about this, Jack. It’s the first time I’ve been excited in months. You remember how you felt when you first went in?”

“Scared shitless.”

“Yeah.” He laughed. “I’ve got some of that, too.”

“Rick, they’re going to try to pound the stuffing out of you. You’re going to think it’s personal. It’s not.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to want to quit, and you can’t.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to fight, you know. There are two Corps—the fighting Marines and the support staff. You don’t have to fight if you’re not sure.”

“Were you sure?” Rick asked.

“No, son.” Jack looked at him. Rick sat tall. Strong. “No, Rick. I wasn’t sure till I was trained, and then I still wasn’t sure. It just felt like what I wanted to do at the time, and I went that way knowing I might be wrong. But I went that way.”

“That’s where I’m at. Just a feeling. But damn, it’s good to have a feeling again. One that doesn’t hurt.”

“Yeah,” Jack said in a breath. “I can imagine.”

At the bus, there was one last hug. “I’ll see you after Basic,” Jack said. “You’ll do good. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Rick said. And although Jack’s eyes were moist, Rick’s were cool. Driven and confident, once again. Maybe a little bit like Jack had been a while back, when he was about that age.

Rick threw his duffel to the driver and climbed on. Jack stood on the sidewalk until the bus was gone. Then he walked down the street and found a pay phone. He plugged a pocketful of quarters into the phone and dialed. Sam answered.

“Yeah, Dad?” Braced against the phone box, he leaned his head on his arm. “Dad?”

“Jack. What’s up?”

“Dad, I think I know how you must’ve felt. Back when I left for the Marine Corps. You must’ve wanted to die.”

It was early June when the entire Sheridan family came to Virgin River en masse. They had rented RVs, brought fancy tents, campers and toy haulers. Also in evidence, the Marines—this time some of them brought their families. Zeke brought Christa and four kids, including a brand-new baby. Josh Phillips brought Patti and the babies. Corny brought Sue and the two little girls. Tom Stephens came from Reno but had to leave the family home. Joe and Paul were there from Grants Pass. Everyone was camping at the new Sheridan home site; quads and dirt bikes had come along for the entertainment of the pack. Flatbed trucks had brought picnic tables a few days before, plus a couple of huge barbecues and portable toilets. Jack had spent the past two months getting lumber ready for framing, and yesterday, amid much food, drink and celebrating, the men erected the frame of Mel and Jack’s new home.

But that wasn’t all that was taking place during this reunion. Since everyone was present, there was another special occasion. A wedding day.

Paige and Chris were at Mel’s while Paige primped and donned a sweet and simple floral sundress and high-heeled sandals. While she was getting dressed, the men and Sheridan women were sweeping out the foundation of the framed house and stringing garlands along the beams. Rented folding chairs were brought in and set up—one hundred of them—and that wouldn’t be quite enough. Most of the town would turn out.

“I’ve never seen you look more beautiful,” Mel whispered to Paige. “Nervous?”

Paige shook her head. “Not at all.”

“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 took her hand. “Come on. We’re almost late. We have to go now.”

The women loaded Chris and baby David in the Hummer and drove out to the home site. The widened road was lined with cars and trucks, and at the top of the hill, more vehicles, RVs and trailers. Mel drove all the way to the top and parked right near the structure that would one day be her house. Picnic tables were laden with food, the framed house was strung with flower garlands and the chairs on the foundation were full with people standing around behind them and out in the yard. Smoke rose from heated barbecues and children ran about. A ceremony, a picnic, a party, and some playtime. And for once, Preacher would do none of the cooking.

Paige, Mel and Brie got out of the Hummer. Someone immediately handed them simple bouquets and took David from Mel so she could attend the ceremony; a boutonniere was pinned onto Christopher’s shirt and he clutched Bear under his arm.

There was no music, but this was not to be a traditional wedding, not meant to resemble other weddings, because John and Paige wanted this day to reflect who they were—simple, grateful people who loved each other more than the event. The bar was not big enough and the church had been boarded up for years. It was John who had said, “Once we get the frame of Jack’s house up, not only will everyone we care about be there, there will be lots of room.” Who gets married in a framed house? was Paige’s first thought. Her next immediate thought was—people like John and me do.

But looking at it now, strung with flowers, it was so beautiful that for a second she couldn’t breathe. To the left was a view that went on forever, to the right, the majestic mountains. It had become an outdoor church, filled with friends.

Chris walked in front of her toward the plank that led up to the foundation, and Mel and Brie each held one of her hands. She smiled at the people—far more than she expected. They hadn’t sent invitations—they posted a notice in the bar that anyone interested should attend, and they were here in droves. Of course it touched her to think how much respect they’d paid her, but even more deeply she felt the honor they paid to John, Preacher. He did right by everyone he met, not just her.

The foundation of the house being raised, she could only see the seated and standing wedding guests. Chris ran ahead, up the plank and down the aisle. She walked up the plank to the foundation carefully, her bridesmaids right behind her.