Angel's Peak (34 page)

“There we go,” Aiden said. “Take slow breaths if you can, Art. Cough it out.”

Art had a terrified look on his face and a big lump on his head. He had a hard time catching his breath enough to speak and was clearly panicked. Finally, in a voice he could barely use, looking around frantically, he said, “Rosie? Did she fall in?”

“No, buddy. You did. But you’re going to be all right, I think.”

That didn’t seem to satisfy him. “Where’s Rosie? Where is she?”

Luke knelt in front of Art and pulled the blanket around him, holding it tight. “Her grandma took her up to the house where it’s warm.”

“Luke,” he said, his voice raspy. “I stepped too fast and didn’t look.”

“An accident, buddy,” Luke said. “Were you trying to get to Rosie?”

He nodded and coughed. “She’s not supposed to fish without Sean. Did she fall in?”

“She’s okay. You were a close call, though. You scared me good, Art.”

“Sorry, L-L-Luke,” he said, teeth chattering.

The wet blanket was pulled away and a dry one wrapped around him. When he’d recovered enough to be breathing somewhat better, Luke and Sean made a chair out of their arms and carried him to the house so he could sit by the fire.

“I called Cameron,” Walt said. “Once you had him breathing and sitting up, I canceled the helicopter transport. Cameron will be here faster, in less than five minutes. Luke, you can drive the Hummer for him so he can be in the back with Art.” Then the general leaned close to Art. “Art, you’re going to go to the hospital so they can check you over, make sure you didn’t get a concussion or get too much water in your lungs.”

“I don’t want to,” Art wheezed.

“I’ll go with you, buddy,” Luke said. “Right now I’m going next door to your house to find you some dry clothes.”

“O-k-k-kay,” he said. Maureen came close, holding Rosie, who was still gasping with barely subsiding sobs. Art looked up at her. He frowned at her. “No f-f-fishing without Sean,” he said in a bit of a scolding tone.

She turned and buried her head in Maureen’s shoulder for a second, then looked back at Art and asked, “Do I hab time-out?” Her breath caught pitifully and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“No time-out,” Art said. “And no more fishing without Sean!”

She nodded her head and clung to her grandmother.

The front door opened and Cameron stuck his head inside. “Did I hear someone’s been swimming in this cold weather?”

By seven that evening at Valley Hospital, Art had had a clean CT and good chest X-ray. The danger of developing pneumonia from nearly drowning was the risk, so Cameron wanted him to stay at the hospital overnight, on antibiotics for infection and breathing treatments to keep his lungs clear.

“I don’t want to spend the night,” Art said, his voice still gruff from the strain of coughing and choking.

“I’ll stay here with you,” Luke said.

“But I want Thanksgiving, Luke!”

“I’ll make sure—”

Shelby popped her head in the room. She carried a covered tray. “Now, Art, would I let you miss Thanksgiving?” she asked. “Don’t I know you like to eat better than anything?”

He grinned at her and she came into the room. She put the tray on his bedside stand. “I drove it over on a hot-water bottle, but if it’s not warm enough, the nurses might let us borrow their microwave.” She pulled the aluminum foil off the dishes. “Oh, I think you’re going to like this!”

He dipped a fork in the mashed potatoes first and grinned. “It’s good. Are you going to spend the night, too?” he asked her.

“Probably not,” she said with a laugh. “If Luke is here with you, I can stretch out at home and have the whole bed.” She leaned forward and gave Art a kiss on the head. “Be more careful,” she said. “I can’t stand the thought you might be hurt!”

Art glowed scarlet from the kiss.

“Knock, knock,” someone said from the door. Sean came into the room with Rosie on his hip. “Some Wide Iwish Rose can’t go to sleep tonight without seeing you. She’s never been in a hospital before.”

Right behind them Franci entered the room, saying, “And we brought…” Her voice trailed off as she saw Art with a generous Thanksgiving meal in front of him. “Pie.” Within five minutes, Rosie was sitting on the bed beside Art, helping him eat his dinner, which he didn’t seem to mind sharing with her.

Then Walt Booth’s voice boomed from the hospital room doorway. “Aw, hell, I thought this was an original idea!” He brought in his own collection of leftovers and behind him Muriel laughed, holding a large serving of pie.

Next came Paul with still more pie. “Vanni sent this over,” he said.

And right behind him, Preacher. “Heard there was a little excitement at the Riordan Thanksgiving dinner,” he said, bearing a couple of take-out cartons from the bar.

And, finally, Aiden and Maureen crowded into the small room. “I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t bring food,” she said. “We just wanted to check on you and make sure you had company, Art. But look at this—you have so many friends.”

“I have very many friends,” Art said. “Very many.”

The day after Thanksgiving was bright and sunny, though very cold. Maureen told Vivian she had errands to run, but would be back in plenty of time to help with dinner at Franci’s house. Tonight Shelby, Luke, Art and Aiden were all coming over for a family dinner before they scattered to the winds in a great exodus out of Virgin River and Eureka.

Maureen drove to Ferndale and back to the cemetery. She saw George’s car parked by the side of the road and pulled up behind it. He was halfway up the hill, apparently reading a headstone. She walked up the winding stone stairs till she met him.

He turned and opened his arms and she walked right into his embrace. “Do you think it’s a bad omen to meet in a cemetery?” she asked him.

“I have a special fondness for this place,” he said. “This is exactly where you completely lost control, threw yourself at me and passionately kissed me. I like it here.”

“I think I surprised myself more than you,” she said.

“Impossible. I thought I’d have to chase you for years before I got a kiss.” He stroked her hair back over her ear. “Are you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. You?”

“I’d rather not,” he admitted. “But I have responsibilities. The upside is, I’m going to get those things taken care of quickly so I can get the next part of my life under way. I’m looking forward to this next stage.”

“And you’ll be back here for Christmas?” Maureen asked.

“Didn’t I promise you?”

“I suppose I can trust you to keep a promise,” she said. Then she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. “Are you still planning to leave tomorrow?”

He nodded. “I’ll drive for a day and have Sunday to get myself organized before classes. I think I might drum up the hardest end-of-term exams in the history of the world. I want to be remembered for something.”

“George, you’ll be remembered. Who could forget you?”

“Hopefully not you!” He kissed her forehead. “Will you please give me a call when you get home? Just so I know you’re safe?” They had spent one of their lunches plugging numbers into each other’s iPhones. She had numbers for him on his cell phone, at the university and at home.

“Of course. Once I get rid of Aiden.”

“Don’t be grumpy,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “You’ll have a very pleasant drive with him. It’s nice of him to look after his mother.”

“He’s not being nice, George, he’s being over protective and nosy. He’s got this idea we have to have a heart-to-heart talk about the fact I haven’t been dating! He brought it up, you know—apparently, my sons have been concerned about me being alone. More to the point, they’re all concerned that I’m determined to be alone!”

“Shame on you, Maureen! Tell the young man you’re not going to be alone!”

“No! It’s none of his bloody business!”

“You’re just being stubborn. If he’s worried, it might put his mind at ease.”

“I’m not ready to talk to Aiden about you. Besides, once you tell one of those boys, they’ll all know. They’re worse gossips than a bunch of girls. Nothing is sacred with them. No way I’m confessing to any one of them.”

“Could be a very long drive,” George observed.

“I’d counted on driving alone. I like to drive. And I had looked forward to being alone with my thoughts. I have a lot on my mind, you know.”

“I know,” he said with a laugh. “Plus, you need time to check in with your priest, see if you can trick him into giving you a blessing.”

“I’d like your opinion about something,” she said, smiling slyly. “I mean, I do realize your education in the religious arts is spotty compared to a Catholic priest’s…”

“Indeed?” he said with laughter in his voice.

“But do you suppose, at my advanced age, God would trust me to make my own decision about you?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Maureen, have you ever heard the story about the Lutheran who went to heaven?”

“I don’t believe I have…”

“Well, let’s see if I remember it correctly. As I recall he wasn’t a real bad sinner, as Lutherans go, and made it to heaven based on his good works. Saint Peter was giving him a little tour. They walked through magnificent gardens, past glorious mansions, beside breathtaking waterfalls and rainbows. There was a group of people in a fabulous park and Saint Peter said, ‘Those are the Baptists—no dancing or card playing over there.’ They walked farther and passed what appeared to be a big celebration, a roaring party, and Saint Peter said, ‘Methodists. Anything goes.’ And a little farther along there was a gathering of folks visiting, chatting and laughing, having a good time, and Saint Peter said, ‘Shhh, be very quiet.’ When the Lutheran asked why, Saint Peter said, ‘Those are the Catholics. They think they’re alone up here.’”

She laughed and gave him a playful slap on the arm.

George grew serious. “Maureen, you have to follow your heart. You’re a good woman and God loves you.” He smiled almost shyly. “And, I think, so do I.”

“It’s going to be a long month before I see you again,” she said wistfully.

“You’ll miss Rosie, won’t you?”

“Dreadfully. And you’ll miss Noah and Ellie.”

“And the children. Even though I’m not Noah’s father, I feel like one—I’ve never seen him happier. It’s not so hard to be away from him, knowing how much he loves life right now. But it will be hard to be away from you.” He kissed her deeply, lovingly. “Travel carefully, sweetheart. Don’t be too hard on Aiden.”

During the month of December, Maureen was kept busy getting ready for a very special Christmas. While she shopped for gifts for Rosie and a new Riordan baby, gender still unknown, she kept thinking, This is what Christmas is all about—children! She talked to Rosie on the telephone a couple of times a week and made plans with her, getting her all wound up and excited. “When I come to California, we will shop together and go look at Christmas lights,” she had told her granddaughter. “I’ll help you buy presents for your mommy and daddy, if you like. And we can bake Christmas cookies together for the whole family.”

Maureen had talked to Sean; he was spending approximately four days a week—just three nights—at Beale. He had enough long weekends in Eureka with Franci and Rosie for it to almost seem as though he wasn’t gone at all. He was scheduled to have the Christmas holidays off. And, he reported to his mother, Franci was now wearing his engagement ring, wedding plans to follow soon. She couldn’t have worked that out better herself.

She heard from Colin and Paddy—they were going to make it to Virgin River for at least a few days over Christmas. Colin was coming from Fort Benning, Georgia and Paddy from Virginia.

She talked to George on the phone, too, even more often than to anyone in her family, and he had new ideas for big travel plans on a daily basis. According to George, Noah and Ellie and the kids had managed to make enough progress on their new old house to move into it in time for Christmas. George, however, was planning to use the guest room over the Fitches’ garage that Ellie had just vacated. “I’m sure I’ll be spending most of my time with Noah and the family, and with you when I can wrestle you away from your granddaughter, but according to Noah his house still has a long way to go and they don’t have a place to put me except on a lumpy sofa.”

“When will you arrive in Virgin River?” she asked him.

“I’m coming early. As soon as I’m done at school, I’ll head down to Virgin River. Noah can probably use my help with the house. And, Maureen, I’ve put my house on the market.”

“Have you!” she exclaimed. “You’re really doing it, then!”

“I’m really doing it. Check your e-mail—I’ve sent you pictures of RVs! And when we see each other, I’ll show you brochures from my recent shopping trip.”

“But you haven’t made a commitment yet, have you?” she asked.

“Not until the house sells. And I want to finish up the next semester. And, of course, your opinion matters to me. After all that, anchors aweigh!”

Since Christmas Eve would fall on a Friday Maureen was planning to arrive in Virgin River on the Saturday before. She had agreed to meet Aiden in Sacramento and drive with him the rest of the way. She decided that, on this visit, she would stay with Luke. Because it was a holiday week the cabins were not all full. It hadn’t taken too much arguing to convince Luke that a couple of his brothers could stay with him in the house and Maureen could have her own space in one of the cabins.

When Maureen had driven home from California right after Thanksgiving with Aiden, he had returned to the subject of her refusal to date. She assured him nothing could be further from the facts—that if she met someone she liked, she’d most certainly keep company with him. Then she’d said the subject was closed!

The trip from Sacramento back to Virgin River was going to be much more interesting.

When she arrived in Sacramento, her son was waiting. He’d gotten there first, taken care of the car rental and was waiting for her in the baggage area at the airport. Once they were under way and zooming north, traffic rather sparse, she said, “I have a couple of things to tell you, Aiden.”

“Shoot,” he said, giving her a glance and a smile.