Temptation Ridge (29 page)

“I didn’t even think I had to hide from you. I had no idea you were here. Really, this can’t get out. Please don’t ask me why.”

“A sticky prenup, I gather…”

“Oh God! Who told you about that?”

“I read it in
People
magazine.”

“Oh my God! How many people do you think
know
about that?”

“I don’t know, but no one here will realize you’re that woman. I recognized your face on the cover and read the story because I was hungry for details. Not that I got any—just the bare facts, which struck me as disgraceful. He left you after a few weeks, moved in with another woman and filed for divorce. There was mention that a prenuptial agreement might be a reason the divorce was delayed, but I have no idea how that plays into your drama. All I know is that the shit bag married you and left you. And I consider him scum of the earth for doing that. Not to mention a fool.”

“And I’ll be in a huge mess if you share that with anyone.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “I’ll be sure and not write home about you.”

“Funny,” she said. “This is serious.”

“All right, we’ll get serious. You’re not my patient, but anything that happens in that clinic is confidential. Mel and I have access to all the records and they’re protected by privacy. Even if I wanted to gossip about you, I can’t. But there’s no rule against talking to you—and I have a personal stake in this. I have a feeling this has everything to do with me.”

“They’re not yours.”

He smiled patiently. “Yeah, they are, but don’t panic. Right now making sure you’re all right is the only thing that concerns me. I’m not going to get pushy—I understand how you must feel about it being just one night, unplanned, accidental. Abby—I’m sorry. This is my fault. I talked you into it, I had the condom accident…”

“I had the pill accident,” she relented. “I was taking antibiotics.”

“Well, that explains it. You didn’t know about the contraindication?”

She shook her head and sniffed. He produced a handkerchief and she wiped at her eyes and nose. “I’m not even sure they told me at the clinic. If they did, maybe I wasn’t paying attention—I was getting ready to go to that wedding and my own marriage was over. It was a stressful time and I had an ear infection. Really, I was half-deaf.”

“So why are you here?”

She shrugged. “I have to go real low profile right now. Oh hell, you’re going to find out anyway. I hope you turn out to be someone I can trust because—”

“Didn’t I show you that?” he asked as gently as he could. “I tried to.”

“Yeah, well, Ross showed me that, too. For at least a couple of months he was the sweetest man I’d ever known. A couple of months later he was back with the band, using drugs, his life a train wreck.”

“Okay, point taken. But I don’t think I have much in common with him. I don’t have a long history of infidelity and drug use, for one thing….”

“But see, I don’t really know that.”

“Like I said, I’m real easy to check out. You could start with Vanni.”

“Vanni?” she asked, surprised.

“Yup. Her first husband’s mother tried to fix us up and we dated a little, before Paul. I had a practice in Grants Pass for several years—ask the doctors there. Check with Mel—she hired me. I’m here for a year.”

“What
are
you doing here?” she asked.

“Their doctor, a man I knew briefly, died a few months ago. They needed help and I happen to love this place. You’ll see—it’s kind of special. Now, tell me about this problem you have. Not the pregnancy, that’s not a problem.
What has you hiding out in Virgin River, afraid someone will recognize you?”

She sighed deeply and let it out. Her choices were few at this point. At least if he knew why she was so afraid he might keep his big mouth shut.

“And that’s what has you so wound up? Abby, that’s only money.”

“
Only
money? It’s a ton of money! I didn’t stick him with any debt, but I feel lucky it was only a fortune in credit-card bills! I suppose a rock star can run up a big tab.”

“Abby,” he said calmly. “It’s legal details. It can be handled. We just have to figure out the best approach and—”

“Stop! This is
my
problem! I need time to breathe!”

Cameron wasn’t too worried about things like prenups and credit-card debt. It wasn’t that he thought he could buy their way out of this mess; he didn’t have a ton of money. But he was sure there was a compromise in there somewhere. His biggest concern was getting the mother of his twins to trust him a little. He put a large hand over her slightly rounded middle. “Have you been seeing a doctor since the beginning?” Again she nodded, but this time she lifted her eyes. “And everything is going fine? You’re feeling all right?”

“Fine,” she said. “If I didn’t miscarry from being a nervous wreck, I guess I must be in good shape.”

He smiled. “You should have called me. I could have helped.”

“I was afraid to get involved with someone I didn’t know. I already screwed up on that once. You could be a lunatic for all I know.”

“I could be, but I’m not.”

“I can’t be sure of anything. Anyone. You have to under
stand that. Don’t take it personally—there are very good reasons for me to be cautious.”

“I smoked a little pot in college,” he said with a smile. “Otherwise, I’m relatively safe.”

“Relatively?”

“Yeah. I’ve been known to do insane things like chuck a thriving practice to come to a town of six hundred for practically no money because it’s quiet, clean and the people make you feel useful. My family thinks I’ve lost my mind,” he added, laughing. “Other than that, I haven’t had a severe personality shift since puberty.”

“When I saw you at the clinic, it scared me to death,” she said.

“That’s the first thing we have to work on,” he said. “There is absolutely no reason to ever be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. Why would I? What would that get me? I’d like a chance to get to know you a little bit. I told you that back in Oregon, that I’d like to know more about you. I’m not going to screw up that chance by being cruel. Forceful.” He grinned. “You have that list. Forceful isn’t on it.”

“And you have very good manners,” she added softly. And for the first time that day, she really looked at him. He looked different from that night. He was dressed in jeans, a denim shirt, laced boots.

“You have to promise you’re not going to run away,” he said. “We’ll act like we just met, you don’t even have to tell Vanni you knew me before. You’re not my patient, it’s not a problem for me to want to get to know you. I’ll see you around. You’ll show up at Jack’s sometimes, and I get dinner there. And if I see you there sometimes, maybe we’ll be friends. That’s why I was trying to get in touch with you. Just to see you again. Give it a chance.” He smiled at her. “Come on. You like me. You know you do.”

“How are you going to explain some interest in a single, pregnant woman?” she asked him.

He laughed. “Abby. Look in the mirror.”

“I should get out of here before there’s trouble….”

“No, you can’t go,” he said calmly, firmly. He really didn’t want to play hardball with her, but he shouldn’t have to tell her what she would be able to put together after she thought about it a while—he’d turn the earth upside down to find her if she was carrying his children. Cam had the DNA to prove he was the father. “You have to give this a little time. I have a vested interest here.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t call you. It scares me. What if I get to know you and decide you’re just not the kind of man I want involved with my children?”

He smiled and lifted one eyebrow. “Really? And what if I get to know you and decide you’re not the kind of woman I want raising mine?” The surprise was evident in her eyes, as was a little fear. “Just because I’m not carrying them and birthing them doesn’t mean they’re any less mine.”

“Oh God,” she moaned.

He stood up, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her carefully against him, holding her sweetly, tenderly, lightly caressing her back until she seemed to calm and lean against him. He pulled back and looked down into her frightened eyes. “I just want you to remember one thing,” he said softly. Then he lowered his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Then he pulled back, smiling into her eyes. He kissed her again, again gently. And then he came down on her lips in a more serious kiss, moving over her mouth carefully, sensually, until her arms slowly and reluctantly encircled him, her eyelids dropping closed. He stayed on her lips until she kissed back, letting him open her lips. He tilted
his head for a better angle, enjoying her response. Not knowing when he’d get a chance like this again, he stayed with that kiss for a long time, tasting her mouth, being tasted by her. When he released her mouth, he smiled. “Ah,” he whispered. “You do remember.” And he kissed her again.

He released her grudgingly. “That’s a good place to start. Nothing to fear, everything to gain. Now, I’m going to get out of your hair so you can unpack.”

T
he Valenzuela baby, Ness, was almost six weeks old when Luke called and asked if he might stop by with Art. Art was very excited; he got himself all cleaned up, put on freshly laundered clothes, his new heavy jacket and wiggled in the truck all the way there. “Settle down a little,” Luke said with a laugh. “You know Mike and Brie. It’s just a baby.”

“I won’t touch it,” he said by way of a promise.

“If you want to touch the baby, you have to ask politely. And if the answer is no, it’s no.”

“Okay,” he said.

“And we should be kind of quiet around the baby,” he said. And Art nodded.

Luke invited Art to carry the brightly wrapped gift, all pink bows and gewgaws with a pair of crochet booties tied into the bow. When Mike opened the door, Art pushed it at him proudly. “Thanks,” Mike said with a laugh. “Would you like to come in?”

“Okay,” Art said. “I’ll be quiet. Can I touch it? The baby?”

Mike held the door open. “My wife handles all special requests. But she’s very generous. Let me get her.”

Mike dropped the gift on the coffee table and disappeared into the house. A few seconds later he was following Brie into the living room. She held the wrapped baby against her shoulder. She grinned at Art and said, “It’s so nice to see you, Art. How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been very good.”

Brie lowered the baby. “Well, Art, meet Ness. And Ness, this is Art.”

“Oh,” he said a little breathlessly. “Oh.”

“She’s sleeping. When she’s awake she has a very big cry.”

“Very big,” Mike affirmed. “When she’s fifteen, she’s going to kill me with it. It’s already one of those girl-screams. Terrifying.”

“Art, if you’d like, you can hold her.”

Art got a stricken look on his face for a second. Then he wiped his hands on his trousers and put them out, palms up.

“No.” Brie laughed. “Not like that. Come over to the rocker, take your jacket off and sit down. Get comfortable. I want you to hold her like this,” she said, demonstrating cradling the baby in her arms. Art very quickly positioned himself in the rocker and got his arms ready. Brie placed the baby in his arms and said, “Now, don’t squeeze her—she’s very fragile. And hold her just like this.”

He stared down at the baby for a second in awe, in wonder, and then he lifted his eyes to Brie’s and broke into a huge smile. “She doesn’t feel like anything!” he said softly.

“I know. It takes some getting used to.” She sat down right beside Art, just in case he needed her.

“Can I get you something to drink, Luke?” Mike asked. “And Art, when you’re done holding the baby?”

“I’ll hold the baby,” Art said. And then very quietly he said to her, “Shh. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

That dug into Luke. It left him speechless for a moment, seeing Art so tender and sweet with the baby, echoing Shelby’s words. Then he recovered himself and said, “Ah, no thanks, Mike. But we did have another reason for coming to visit. Me and Art, we might need a little advice.”

“Sure,” Mike said, sitting down. “What can we do?”

Luke sat forward a little in his chair. “I haven’t explained the details about how Art and I were introduced,” he began. To curious townsfolk, he had said that Art “turned up” and could use some work. So he told the real story, from finding him sleeping in one of the cabins, a black eye, on the run, to how he gave him shelter for chores. Then he ran down his visit to Eureka, to the grocery store and the group home. “Art’s mother’s gone now and he doesn’t want to go back to that group home, doesn’t want to work for Stan at the grocery store, and I’d like him to stay where he is. He’s a good friend and a big help. But we don’t want to break any rules or laws. I need to know who to talk to, how to proceed, so we do it right.”

Mike said, “Whew. Complicated.”

“If he has to go back to a group home, it can’t be that one. And if there has to be a next one, I’ll visit him every day to be sure it’s all right, if I have to. I’d really like to make arrangements for him to stay in Virgin River where he’s pretty happy. But we have to do it right.”

Brie gave her attention to Art and very gently asked, “Art, how old are you now?”

“Thirty years old. November seventeen. We had a cake, me and Luke and Shewby.”

“Did you earn money at the grocery store?”

He nodded.

“And did you sign your paychecks so they could be cashed?” Again he nodded. “Did you sign any other
checks?” He nodded again. “And who did you give the checks to?” Brie asked him.

“Shirwey or Stan,” he said.

“And did they give you money?”

He smiled and nodded. “Fifteen dollars every week.”

“Okay, Art—do you happen to know—are you a ward of the state? A ward of the court?”

He furrowed his brow.

Brie, a former Sacramento prosecutor and currently a consultant to the Humboldt County D.A.’s office, looked at her watch and then turned her attention to Luke. “I can run this by the district attorney, but here’s my guess—Art is a thirty-year-old man. An adult. He might be collecting social security benefits because his parents are deceased and he’s disabled. He could be in a group home that’s subsidized by the state through social services, but if he’s not a ward of the state, he’s not obligated to stay there. If he leaves, the subsidy ends and he gives a change of address for his benefit checks. The D.A. can find out his status.

“That other matter,” she went on, “should probably be turned over for investigation. I can still get the D.A. on the phone. Do you have some names for me?”

Luke pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket—names, addresses and phone numbers for Shirley and Stan—and handed it to Brie.

“Mike?” she asked, standing. “You’re in charge.”

“Sure,” Mike said, but he waited until Brie left the room before he very casually and unobtrusively moved himself to the chair near Art, just in case there was a reason to be close, though Art was doing great with the baby. He balanced his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together and leaned toward Art. “So, Art. That your first baby?”

Art grinned. “Uh-huh. Is it your first baby?”

“It is my very first. We did very good for our first, wouldn’t you say?”

“Very good,” he agreed. “I like how her hair stands straight up like that.” Then he focused his eyes on Mike’s. “I can stay with Luke now?”

“Everything’s going to work out fine,” Mike said. “You asked the right person. Brie knows everything about everything.”

Twenty minutes passed and Art didn’t tire of holding the sleeping baby at all. Then Brie came back into the room. “Well, it’s all good. Art can live wherever he wants to. You’ll have to go to Social Services and collect copies of some of his vital papers—birth certificate, social security benefit change, new picture ID in case he ever wants to travel via airlines, a whole bunch of stuff. He should start receiving his benefit checks a few weeks after you complete that. If you want a subsidy for giving him housing…”

“I don’t need that,” Luke said immediately.

“Rethink that—health care is part of the subsidy and that’s important. Unless he becomes your dependent and you can put him on your military health care. In any case, you’ll have to apply to either one. A little paperwork will tidy things up.” Then she grinned. “Okay, a lot of tiresome paperwork.”

Luke stood. “Stan and Shirl?”

“It’s being looked into. From the reaction of the D.A., I’d say their party’s just about over.”

“Jeez,” Luke said, running a hand over the short-cropped hair on his head. “I had no idea it was all going to be so simple!”

“Yeah, well, I know the right people here now,” Brie said. She leaned down and ran a hand over her daughter’s head. Then she leaned down and gave that little head a kiss.
When she straightened, Art bent his big head and gave the baby a small kiss. “Welcome to Virgin River, Art,” Brie said with a smile.

That night Luke couldn’t wait to tell Shelby how smoothly things appeared to be working out for Art, thanks to Brie.

“So he can stay with you forever?” she asked.

“Forever’s a long time, but he can stay here while he wants to,” Luke said.

“But what about when you sell the cabins?” she asked.

“Well, they’re not for sale yet,” he said with a shrug. “If I do sell them, I can find a place for Art that’s safe and secure.”

“If,” she said, her heart racing suddenly.

“I think I’ve gotten kind of comfortable here.” He laughed softly. “Surprises the hell out of me. I thought I’d be stir-crazy by now.”

“You were talking about a flying job. Have you applied anywhere?”

“I’ve talked to a couple of outfits that have openings—a news chopper in Dallas. A rescue outfit in Georgia. Nothing has my name stamped on it yet. I’ve only been out of the army six months. There’s plenty of time. Right now the important thing is that Art feels okay.”

Shelby didn’t say anything right away. She waited for him to say something about them—their future. About it being important that she felt okay. About having plans that included them both. But nothing came. Because nothing had changed.

“While I’m here,” Luke said, “I should be able to keep an eye on Art, it’s not like he’s high maintenance.”

“Well,” Shelby said. “That’s great news. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

Loving Luke was like a drug for Shelby. She wasn’t sure exactly how long to stay in this relationship or how to let it go, but one thing she did know for sure, he wasn’t offering her anything more than what they had together, and what they had wasn’t binding in any way. It was more than just sex, but intimacy with him held her captive. There was also affection. In terms of companionship, friendship, she felt secure; it was clear he cared about her. The problem was that without words of love, without commitment, the day could come without warning that he would say, “I don’t feel enough to keep this going any longer.” And that day would kill her.

It was that moment Muriel had warned her about. The moment of clarity that signaled it was time to think about moving on.

The weather had been fairly mild until late January and then a blast from the north covered the mountains and brought in February with rain, snow, sleet and ice. The days were short and, given the overcast, dark. The snow didn’t stick for long but the ice was unpredictable and treacherous. The California Department of Forestry was clearing the mountain roads of debris and spreading sand along the steep and curving roads. There were more than the usual number of one-car accidents caused by poor visibility or slippery roads. Everyone in Virgin River was bundled up.

Shelby headed for town one afternoon to spend some time talking with Mel; Mel was always compassionate but straight to the point with her advice. Uncle Walt warned Shelby to watch those patches of black ice. All the way into town, she was rehearsing what she would say, how she would explain that nothing had gone wrong with Luke, but
it also hadn’t gone quite right. That Luke was ready to take care of Art and make sure he had all he needed, but hadn’t even said he would miss Shelby—that said it all. She needed to be told she was loved. She didn’t think that was greedy.

She slowed as she saw something up ahead that looked like a pile of trash by the side of the road. Also, some dirt on the shoulder was visible through the snow. Then from that pile at the edge of the road, there was movement. As she drew near, a child stood up while another person remained down. She hit the brakes and skidded, so she eased up through a possible spin until she stopped safely.

She jumped out of the Jeep and what she saw stunned and confused her. A little girl, maybe six years old, stood beside a teenage boy who sat on the ground, gripping his shoulder with one hand and grimacing in pain. He had a gash on his head and his arm hung at an unnatural angle. The little girl was sobbing, tears running down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

Shelby knelt beside them. She ran her hands over the little girl’s head, shoulders and arms. “What happened here?” she asked them.

“The bus,” the boy said, turning his head to point down the hill. Halfway down, a hundred feet at least, that big yellow bus was balanced very tentatively, the back end up against a huge tree, the front end pointing downward. If one thing shifted, that bus could head down the hill like a torpedo, hitting every tree and bump in its path before crashing at the bottom, a long way down.

“Holy God,” Shelby muttered. She bent to the boy, who grimaced in pain again. “Are there kids on the bus?” she asked.

“It’s full o’ kids,” he groaned. “When it slid off the road, we started to get out the back emergency door.” Tears
ran down his cheeks from the pain. “I only got Mindy out before the thing shifted and slid farther.” He groaned. “I took a dive.”

“And crawled up the hill?” she asked.

He nodded. “If they try to get out, it could go. My arm. It’s outta the socket. You gotta pull it hard. Get it back in.”

“Hang on, buddy,” she said. “Just hang on.” She walked over to the edge of the hill, framed her mouth with her hands and yelled as loud as she could. “Don’t move! I’m getting help!” She helped the boy to his feet, then took the little girl’s hand. She opened the back door of the Jeep for them.

He struggled to get in. “Can’t you do this arm?” he asked. “All you have to do is—”

“We’re only a couple of minutes from town, just hang on and let a doctor do it. You can make it. Work with me here,” she said. Through some slipping and sliding, she got them into the Jeep. She punched the odometer to zero to record the exact distance to the scene. As she headed the rest of the way to town, she asked a couple of questions. “You have any idea how many kids are on the bus?”

“I don’t know exactly. Some didn’t go today because of weather,” he said. “About twenty. Mostly the little ones.”

“Do you know how it happened?”

“Ice,” he said simply. “We fishtailed. I thought she had it, but then the back end of the bus slid down the hill. Lucky we weren’t crushed, me and Mindy. We were coming out the back.”

“Do you know if anyone else is hurt in the bus?”

“I didn’t see anything after it started down the hill.”