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A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River #4)(92)

Author:Robyn Carr

“Fine. Good. I’ll be heading back to Chico in a little while. Could I grab a cup of coffee first?”

“You bet. You okay?”

“I guess. I said goodbye to Ian. I hate to leave. Who would’ve believed I’d find him and get so close to him?”

“But you found him,” Preacher said, pouring her coffee. “And I suppose you took care of all your unfinished business.”

“Yeah. We talked a lot. It’s all good,” she said, lifting her eyes bravely.

“That’s what I like to hear. He seems like a stand-up guy. He found that boy, you know. Travis Goesel. Saved his life.”

Marcie’s eyes shot open wide. “Ian did?”

“Yeah. Dug him out of a shelter he’d made to keep himself from freezing, carried him over a mile. The kid’s about six feet tall and built solid, heavy. Ian tore off his shirt to warm him… Really, another hour or so, it would’ve been just a body. Kid’s doing just fine. He’ll be opening presents with his family tomorrow morning.”

“But he told me—Ian said he’d been found. He wouldn’t take credit for anything. Listen, Preacher…Jesus, I don’t know how to say this, but could you sometimes try to draw him out a little? Ian? It doesn’t have to be anything big—but while I was here, he came off the mountain a little bit and—”

“Sure, kid. We like having him around.”

“And I want to leave you my number in Chico, just in case.” She pulled a bar napkin toward her and wrote her name and phone number on it. “If you ever need to reach me for any reason, that’s my home phone. It’s got a machine, you can leave a message.” Then she pulled the napkin back and wrote some more. “Cell phone,” she said. “I want you to be able to reach me if you—Well, you know.”

“Absolutely. Sure.” He folded it and put it in his pocket. Then he put the coffeepot at her side. “Listen, with this candlelight thing going on tonight, there could be a crowd, so we’re working in the kitchen—I gotta get back to Paige and help out. If you need anything, like a sandwich or anything, just stick your head in the kitchen and holler.”

“Go ahead. I’m fine. I’ll take off after a cup of coffee, thanks.”

So, he found the boy and saved him. And then took all his canned stew to the old man next door. Either Ian had changed dramatically or he’d always been the kind of man who was drawn to helping out when he could. She’d seen a few changes in him, but what she suspected was that this life alone was not really who he was. He hadn’t run off so much as he’d been abandoned—by the Corps, his girl, his father, his brothers in arms. So he isolated himself for a while until he could get his bearings, figure out where he was going and how he was going to live. It was possible that the information she brought him about Bobby’s last three years and passing helped him find some closure in that. That’s what she came to do. If she’d done that, then that was all she could ask.

As for closure for her, the opposite had happened. She loved him. She wasn’t sure she could give him up. But for now, she had to return to her roots, her home. She couldn’t give up those people either.

The door opened behind her but she never even turned. “You!” she heard. “Young woman!” She turned to see Doc standing there. “Can you drive a Hummer?”

“Of course not,” she said. “I own a Volkswagen.”

“Then you’ll learn. Melinda’s gone and I got a head injury I have to get to Valley Hospital. I can’t drive and tend that. Come on.”

“But I’m leaving…”

“Now!” he snapped, turning to go.

Marcie sat for a second, thinking. The door opened again. “I said now!”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered, grabbing her purse and following Doc.

Ian went back to his cabin and fed the stove. He thought about splitting some logs or shoveling or checking on the old guy next door, but instead he sat at his table and did nothing. Nothing, except remember every expression on her face, every sentence she’d uttered. Then he pulled her library book in front of him and reread that romantic passage she loved, the one that got them going. He really couldn’t remember loving that sweet in his whole life. Was it just because it had been so long? Or was he right when he considered that, for two people without much practice, they sure learned how to please each other well in a short period of time. This was good, he told himself, that she had gone. She needed to go home, where she belonged. It wasn’t his home anymore and hadn’t been since his father put the final nail in the coffin of their relationship. Ian had faced the reality—there was no one there for him anymore. No one.

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