A thick, swirling snow began to fall in earnest. There were only a few people in the bar at five o’clock and when she had some plates prepared, Denny delivered them. He also fed the fire, served drinks and cocoa and turned the lights on the Christmas tree, as much to brighten the street as to provide holiday decoration. He helped Paige make sure the little kids were all eating their dinner and cleared away dirty dishes.

Of course, it was dark by five and Becca began to worry about their other friends. Preacher and Jack were not back; Mel hadn’t reported in. Noah and Ellie Kincaid stopped by after their boxes were delivered. “The church will be unlocked,” he told Paige. “It always is, but if anyone needs refuge, it’s available. Ellie put out some blankets in the basement and there’s a full working kitchen.”

The wind picked up and really began to howl outside. Denny swore their young mother was in far better shape than they had found her, but Becca worried about Megan’s family.

It was seven by the time Mel returned to the bar and right behind her came Jack and Preacher. With the weather bearing down on them, no one else was out, but the noise in the bar rose with their presence. Although they were all frosty and rosy-cheeked, with snowflakes clinging to their caps and shoulders, Mel instantly cuddled two-year-old Emma, Jack tossed David in the air, making him screech, and Preacher ran his cold hands up Paige’s back, enjoying her protests.

“Set us up a couple of shots, Paige,” Jack said. “I don’t think even Jack Frost is going to drag us out again tonight!”

“Unless someone goes into labor,” Mel said.

“You’re going to need Santa and his eight reindeer for that one,” Preacher told her.

“Is everyone safe?” Becca asked. “All tucked in?”

“Everyone we know about, anyway,” Jack said.

“But what if there are others out there like Mrs. Crane?” she asked.

Jack no doubt saw her concern and draped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s a small town, honey. It isn’t often someone like that gets by us. It happens, but not often. People around here are real nosy.”

She leaned against him. “Man, I’m worn-out!”

“Worked hard, did you?”

“I’m worn-out from worrying about everyone! How about the Thicksons?”

“As soon as the roads are cleared tomorrow, Cameron is going to drive Lorraine and the little boys home from the hospital,” Mel said. “He’s doing rounds at the hospital as early as he can get there in the morning and the boys are in pretty good shape, despite some bronchitis and ugly throats.”

“But what about Mr. Thickson, at home with Megan and Jeremy?” she asked. “He was in a real mood.”

“More bluster than anything,” Jack said. “He loves his kids. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll call and check on him.”

She looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

“Sure,” he said, heading for the kitchen.

Denny quickly filled the empty space Jack had left, putting his arm around her. “Come on, honey. I think you should sit down, put your feet up and take a breather.”

“I can’t!” she said. “I made meat loaf for forty!”

The place fell suddenly quiet. Finally Preacher said, “Forty?”

“That’s what your recipe said.”

“Hmm. What’s Jack gonna eat?”

Becca just groaned and allowed herself to drop into a chair, while everyone around her seemed amused, chuckling.

“Everyone is fine out at the Thicksons,” Jack said as he returned to the bar from the kitchen. “Megan is bouncing back and Jeremy’s fever is gone. Something sure smells good in that kitchen. Whatcha got going in there, Paige?”

“Not me,” she said, getting down the bottles requested by Jack and Preacher. “Becca made meat loaf. I was busy all day!”

“Thank you, Becca,” Jack said. “I didn’t know you could cook!”

“You haven’t tasted it yet,” she warned wearily.

“It could taste like a cow patty and I wouldn’t know,” Preacher said, tossing back a shot to warm his bones. “I’m half frozen and half dead.”

Denny went behind the bar and poured Becca a short snifter of brandy, pressing it into her hand. Then he sat real close while everyone in the bar talked about their adventures. Jack and Preacher had shoveled, plowed, chopped, stacked, carried logs, rounded up animals, carried old women and old men, emptied portable indoor latrines, cleaned the snow off roofs, pulled a car out of a ditch, jump-started a battery…

“Preacher damn near stuck to the seat in an outhouse,” Jack reported, bringing laughter out of the entire group.

“Jack had to be rescued off the top of a porch when he let the ladder get away,” Preacher said. “Crossed my mind to leave him up there. He was a pain in my ass all day long.”

“Mel, you have a hard day?” Paige asked.

“Nah,” she said. “Two bronchitis, one strep, one false labor—or at least, false so far—and a little home health nursing.” She looked at Becca and smiled. “The woman and children you found are doing well, Becca. The baby is perfectly healthy. They’re all fixed up with what they need, they’re warm and safe, and I’ll check on them in a couple of days. Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything. I mean, I just went with Denny to deliver the box.”

“She asked me to tell you she’s very grateful,” Mel added.

“It was nothing,” she said in a small attack of shyness. Then she sighed. “Oh, God, I’m so relieved!”

“Time to hunker down with some of that meat loaf!” Preacher nearly roared.

And with that, people started heading for the kitchen to serve their own plates. Denny followed the band. Becca just let out a breath and stayed where she was, sipping a little brandy. She was exhausted. In short order Paige brought out a tray of cookies and milk for the kids, while the adults returned to the bar with their plates laden with food. Denny brought two—one for her and one for him.

As they dug in, they praised her work, pronouncing the meal to be delicious. There was lots of “oohing” and “aahing” and lip smacking.

Becca leaned against Denny’s shoulder and said, “I get it.”

“Huh?”

“I get it,” she repeated softly. “How you feel. How it’s like being part of the team. How you know you’re really necessary. Needed. I get it.” She smiled at him. “I like it.”

Becca kind of hated to see the evening end. The Sheridans and Middletons were going to be having a pajama party. They had put the kids to bed at Preacher’s house and were all enjoying the warm fire in the bar, talking about the town, their friends, the people who weren’t friends… It wasn’t yet nine, but Denny said, “If we’re going back down the street, we’d better get going.”

“Don’t walk,” Jack said. “Take the truck.”

“I’m afraid I’ll end up parking it in the middle of the street.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jack said with a shrug. “The Virgin River snowplows won’t be out until I call Paul. But go. I’m tired and the snow could get wilder. If you’re going, go now. I’m not pulling my boots back on to dig you out.”

“All right, old man,” Denny said. He pulled Jack’s keys out of his pocket.

“Wait,” Paige said. “There’s no telling what we’ll find in the morning. I’m going to fix you a little care package in case you don’t feel like coming down here for breakfast. Think you can manage on venison salami, cheese, crackers and biscuits?”

“Throw some peanut butter in, will you?”

Paige gave a nod and dashed off to the kitchen. In what seemed like seconds, she was back with a big bag for them to take home.

After helping Becca into her jacket and taking her crutches from her, he crouched so she could climb on his back.

Once in the truck, she said, “I can’t see anything.”

“Awful, isn’t it? I can barely see, either,” he said. He turned into what he believed was the driveway and pulled slowly forward into the flurries. He stopped with a thunk. “There. See that? That was the Nissan.”

“Oh, God, I hope you didn’t hurt Jack’s truck!”

“Becca, I didn’t hurt Jack’s truck. I hurt the Nissan!”

“Oh,” she said, laughing. “How are we going to get up the stairs?”

“Slowly. Very, very slowly.”

He came around for her, carried her up the stairs, deposited her on one leg in the apartment and went back for the crutches. Momentarily he was back, crutches in hand. He leaned them against the wall, pushed back his hood and eyed her with glittering eyes.

“Denny?” she asked, tilting her head.

One side of his mouth lifted. Then he charged her, tackling her around the waist. She squealed and found herself pinned beneath him on the bed. He held her hands over her head and covered her mouth in a searing kiss. His intentions were already obvious, straining against the zipper of his jeans, pushing against her. He released her lips, but barely. “I have some ideas about how to spend the snowstorm.”

“Oh?” she asked.

“For starters, naked. Then after I do all your favorite things, I think we should do all my favorite things. Then new things. Then things we never thought of but can dream up. Then if I’m not dead, we can start over. How about we start with me tasting every inch of your n**ed body…”

“Aren’t you tired?” she asked him.

“I’m hard,” he pointed out to her with a little hip movement. “And hungry. For your body…”

Yes, this was what she wanted, she thought. Her man back; the one who couldn’t get enough of her. The one who always put her first.

“I have another idea,” he said. “Let’s not reserve this for blizzards. Let’s plan on nights like this regularly, for the rest of our lives. How’s that?”

“That’s going to work,” she said, pulling his lips down to hers.

The snow continued through most of Tuesday, dumping another two feet. Paul plowed again, leaving five-and six-foot berms along the streets. Denny joined Jack and Preacher when they helped people dig out, get their cars and trucks started, delivered supplies. Becca spent most of the day helping Paige in the kitchen; they baked bread and pies and prepared a hearty stew for dinner.

The Sheridans spent another night in town because more snow was predicted for Wednesday morning, but it was supposed to be clear on Thursday.

“If we leave early on Thursday, we can be in San Diego by the evening,” Denny said to Becca. “In time for Christmas Eve on Friday.”

“All I have to do is close my suitcase,” Becca said. “What can I do to help you get ready?”

“I’m as good as ready,” he said.

When they weren’t holed up in their little room above the garage they were at Jack’s, where, despite the weather, there were always a few people. It was the gathering place for the town and the best spot to get the latest information.

On Wednesday night, Becca and Denny were having yet another farewell dinner. By her calculation, this was their third. She was sitting up at the bar, talking to Jack, while Denny was out gassing up Jack’s truck.

“Tomorrow it will be clear,” Becca said to Jack. “You’ll have your life back.”

He gave a nod. “Not quite. My family is due tomorrow. And we’ll also run around checking on people. We’ve been lucky—no power loss. I’m assuming we’ll find that everyone is fine. We could still get more snow before spring—an outrageous amount this winter. You know what that means? When the snowpack melts in the spring, we could have floods.”