Bring Me Home for Christmas Page 9


“I’m used to being very active. I can’t imagine that washing my hair would make me tired,” Becca said.

“Your body is working on mending that bone. Give it a chance. You need good nutrition and rest. Be nice to yourself.” She smiled.

“Yes,” she said. “Right.”

The nurse gave her arm a stroke. “We put splints and casts on in the E.R. and send people right home all the time. You’ll be fine. And let people help. It’s okay.”

On the drive back to Virgin River from the hospital, Denny said, “I gave Jack and Preacher a call while you were getting your crutches and I think we have a plan. A good plan. I’m taking you to Preacher and Paige’s house—it’s attached to the bar, but a totally private residence. You’ll be comfortable there. You can lie down in their room if you feel like sleeping and I’ll be around to make sure you have anything you need. I know you don’t want to be left all alone all day and you also don’t want to be locked in a room with me all day—but at least you’ll be right next to Jack’s in case you feel like company. You know, like your brother and Troy and Dirk. Plus, at Preacher’s you’ll have a little privacy and a TV for when you feel like being left alone. Chris, their seven-year-old, is in school and Dana, their two-year-old, stays real close to Paige and Preacher. You can put your foot up and I’ll bring you meals from the kitchen. Or, if you want to come to the bar, we can put your right foot up on a chair—your choice.”

“But, Denny, I don’t even know them!” she said.

“That doesn’t matter. It was Preacher’s idea. In the evenings, I’ll take you back to my room. Those stairs—you’re not ready to be going up and down those stairs, so I’ll carry you up there. Jack is loaning me a nice big blow-up mattress. I’ll sleep there with you at night so if you need anything, I’ll be right there. Like if you need a drink of water or help getting to the bathroom…”

“Oh. My. God,” she muttered.

Denny laughed at her. “I’ll be sure to close the door. Come on, Becca, I’m not going to embarrass you. Would you rather have Big Richie help you to the bathroom?”

“Really, I want to die right now.”

He laughed again. “You’ll be fine. It’ll take you about five minutes to feel at home with Paige and Preacher.”

I want my mother, she thought with an internal cry.

Her relationship with her mother was great, really. Her mother comforted her when she was down, praised her when she did well, laughed with her in happy times…and had an opinion about everything. Like most mothers and daughters, when it was good, it was very good and when it was bad it was horrid. For the past couple of years, Beverly’s opinion was that Denny wasn’t worth the tears and Doug had saved her life. Before that whole breakup with Denny, Beverly had loved him. He was Rich’s best friend and Becca’s boyfriend—double the pleasure. But then…

“I don’t like that you’re not telling your parents about me being here,” Denny said. “Particularly your mother. I know she’s probably pissed off at me, but you should still be honest with her.”

Becca’s head snapped around to look at him. Was he now reading her mind?

“But it’s not up to me,” he said. “We can take care of you.”

“We?” she asked.

“Me. Mostly me. But there’s also Jack and his wife, Mel—she’s the local nurse practitioner and town midwife. There’s Paige and Preacher, my boss, Jillian, and her sister, Kelly. Lots of real nice people who want to help out if they can.” He glanced over at her. “These people are my family, Becca.”

“But you haven’t even been here that long.”

“About a year. Becca, did they give you some pain pills or something?”

“Uh-huh, I had one just before we left the hospital. You’d be surprised how much my leg hurts, too, but the doctor said it’s going to let up. Listen, I get that you’re trying real hard but the thing that worries me…if you’re going to be all pissy and angry with me, I’d rather just make Rich stay with me….”

“Believe me, Becca, I learned my lesson on that. Besides,” he said softly, “I don’t want to fight with you. I just want to help.”

Five

To Becca’s surprise, there was a welcoming party at Jack’s. Jack and Preacher were there, of course, but Becca hadn’t expected their wives. She recognized Paige from her first night at the bar and knew the other woman must be Mel, Jack’s wife, because Jack had his arm around her. And Rich, Dirk and Troy were there, too.

Denny carried her into the bar. Rich immediately separated himself from the group and said, “Here, gimme that fat old load.” Holding his hands out for Becca, he added, “Just one of the guys, huh, Becca?”

Mel said to Paige, “Isn’t it amazing how you can always pick out the brother?”

Denny obliged, transferring her into Rich’s capable, if rude, arms. “I’ll go get the crutches.”

“Thanks a lot, Rich,” she said. “You’re so sensitive and gentle.”

He hefted her in his arms and said to Jack, “Where do you want this.”

Becca whacked him in the head.

Mel came forward and put out her hand. “Hi, Becca, I’m Mel Sheridan. Please don’t worry about a thing—we’ve got you covered. Denny’s a good friend and his friends are our friends. Would you like to sit in the bar for a while, maybe have a sandwich and soda? Or are you ready for a little privacy and rest?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “One thing I should do is make a phone call, and my cell doesn’t seem to work here.”

“Very few people can get good cell coverage in the mountains,” Paige Middleton said. “But calling home is not a problem—we have unlimited long distance. You can make a call from my house anytime. Want to start right now?”

“Yes,” she said. “Richard, follow Mrs. Middleton!”

Paige led them through the kitchen and right into her living room. She patted the sofa. The cordless phone was beside it on the table. Rich put her down. “You all right?” he asked her.

“You care?”

“Well, sure, Becca. But you totally screwed up duck hunting.”

“Bite me.”

Paige cleared her throat. “I have a boy and a girl—is this what I have to look forward to? Never mind. Can I get you something to drink? A soda? Water?”

Becca sat on the cushy leather couch in the spacious living room in Paige’s house, her leg propped up on the ottoman. Curled up at the other end of the couch on his very own doggy blanket was a black-and-white border collie, whom Paige introduced as Comet. The dog gave her a wag and a lick and then went to his corner like a good boy.

Paige brought her a glass of water and told her to take her time on the phone. She thought for a moment before dialing. To her surprise, there was an answer.

“This is Doug Carey.”

She jumped in surprise. “Doug?”

“Becca?” he asked.

“I didn’t expect you to answer. I was composing a message to leave you. Where are you?”

“At the airport. I got an earlier flight and, since you’re not around, I’m heading out today. You did get a refund on your ticket, didn’t you?”

She’d never even bought the ticket out East. Of course, Doug wanted to buy the ticket, but she insisted. “A credit,” she lied. “I have a year to use it on any destination.” She made herself a promise—when this was over and she was home, reassured and waiting for that engagement ring under the tree, she’d tell him everything. “Do you have a second to talk?”

“We’ll be boarding in about ten,” he said. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I’ve had a little accident,” she said. “Nothing to worry about, but I broke my ankle and have a splint. I’ll be on crutches for six weeks.”

“Becca,” he said in a disapproving tone.

“I jumped out of my brother’s truck and landed wrong. So much for hunting and fishing.”

“Get a ride to the nearest airport and use that credit. Meet me in Boston, I’ll drive you to Cape Cod….”

“Well, here’s the thing. I’m stranded. Can’t travel. Can’t even drive home with Rich on Sunday. I have to get the splint taken off and the ankle checked by the doctor.”

“Why can’t you travel?”

“Aside from the fact that I can’t manage my luggage on crutches, you mean?”

“Becca, that’s what five dollar bills are for—skycaps.”

“Oh,” she said. “Of course.” Doug Carey didn’t schlepp bags. “Well, the main reason is that my leg has to be elevated so it doesn’t swell. And it would be very bad if it swelled under the splint. And I guess the danger of blood clots if I’m on a long flight or drive is a factor. Best to just wait for the all clear.”

“And then?”

“Well, I guess then I’ll get a flight home. Me and my five dollar bills…”

He actually laughed. “Only you, Becca.”

“Yeah,” she said. “What a klutz, huh?” Only a surfing champion with wicked good balance! “Listen, on the off chance you get some wild, insane urge to speak to my mother, please do not call her and tell her about this.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because she and Dad went to Mexico for the holiday and I don’t want them to worry or come back early. Just don’t.”

“It never occurred to me, but point taken. Dare I hope you got this out of your system?”

“This?” she asked.

“Hunting and fishing,” he said. “Will you be off crutches by Christmas?”

“Very close, but I’ll be cleared to travel much sooner than that.”

“Good. Because I just picked up a great Napa package we can use around Christmas—a vineyard tour. It was supposed to be a surprise, but since I won’t see you, I’m telling you now.”

Right then, Denny came into the room, carrying her crutches. He gave her a smile and pointed at them. She pointed at the floor by the couch.

And suddenly, even though one of them was in the room and one hundreds of miles away at an airport, she could see both men as if they were standing beside each other. Denny was wearing jeans, boots, a plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves and looked like a woodsman, while she knew Doug would be in dress slacks with a cashmere sweater, carrying his leather jacket in preparation for the cold Boston winter. The lumberjack next to the metrosexual.

“How does that sound, babe?” Doug went on.

“Great. Nice. Fun.”

“I have a list of all the tasting rooms—we’ll go over it before we even head that way. Decide exactly which vineyards appeal to us most.”

“Sure,” she said.

Denny put down the crutches and began to leave the room, heading back for the bar.

“There’s my call—we’re boarding. I love you, babe,” he said.

“Have a safe trip.”

“Becca. I said, I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said. But she said it quietly.

Not quietly enough. Denny paused, stiffened just slightly, then continued on. And she thought, Crap. I’m screwed.

Becca relaxed on the sofa for a while before she grabbed up her crutches and made her way to the bathroom. She managed just fine. A little slow, maybe, but she never put weight on her foot and didn’t fall, either. Surfing was better than skiing or ballet for balance.

Suddenly, she realized Doug never asked her where she was staying. Never asked if she needed him. His most immediate concern was whether she’d be able to travel when he wanted to take his Napa tour… She had a premonition of what life was going to be like—it was going to revolve around Doug. Of course. He was the busy one, the important one.

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