“What if you never get a victim so you can make an arrest?”

“I’m gonna get him anyway,” he said. “I’m trying to come up with ideas that don’t involve you.”

They got the saddles off and the tack out, then began brushing the horses. After about ten minutes she said, “Thanks. Mike.”

“Hey, Brenda, I think we’re on the same side. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

It hadn’t yet been two weeks that Brie had been in Virgin River, but to Mike it felt as if they’d been together forever. No matter what the evening held, whether supper at the grill and a quick walk across the yard to the RV, or dinner with the general and his family, when they were finally alone the door was barely closed before they were in each other’s arms. They hadn’t slept in a stitch of clothing since Brie’s arrival and probably never would again. Mike thought about her all day and made long, slow, delicious love to her almost every night. Then there were the mornings…

“No one has this much sex,” she whispered to him, breathless and satisfied.

“Even I never had this much sex,” he admitted, just as breathless.

“It’s a honeymoon, that’s what it is,” she told him.

“I’ve been on two honeymoons, and they were nothing like this.”

“Well, I’ve been on one, and it was nothing by comparison.” She giggled. “You’re amazing, Mike,” she told him.

He rose over her and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’re a passionate woman, Brie. You have a powerful libido. It’s a good thing you chose a Latino.” He grinned. “We have a reputation for being able to handle hot women like you.”

“You handle me, all right. Do you think this is going to wind down anytime soon?”

“If nature takes its course, it will. That’s why I’m taking advantage of you right now. I know what’s coming in the pregnant days.”

“I just can’t wait for the end of the day,” she said. “I shudder on and off all day long, just thinking…”

“Aftershocks,” he said, rolling onto his back. “I have ’em, too.” He chuckled. “It’s a miracle is what it is. I wasn’t even sure I could do it.”

“Huh?”

He rolled back onto his side and looked down at her. “I came out of my coma with a few things missing. Erections, for one thing.”

“Seriously?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Because you’re certainly having more than your share now.”

“It took almost a year to come back, and then it was completely unpredictable. When I took you to bed that first time, I didn’t know if it would work, how well it would work, if it would keep working….”

“And yet you went for it?”

He shrugged. “I had responded to you before…I was hopeful.”

“Mendocino,” she said with a smile.

“You did know. I wondered.”

“What if it hadn’t worked that first night?”

He ran a hand over her naked shoulder and down over her hip. “Helping you become comfortable with a loving touch was all I wanted. Pleasing you was the only important thing. I was prepared to make up for it. In many wonderful ways.”

She closed her eyes. “You do have your ways,” she whispered.

He laughed, deep in his throat, and took great pride in working a little of his magic. Nothing in his life to this moment compared to the happiness he felt when she responded to him, when she was swept away by the pleasure he could give her. And sweeter still was holding her afterward, whispering in the night, or talking softly in the early-morning light. Whether it was love talk, usually only stirring them up all over again, or just the conversation of partners planning their days, their lives. Then there were conversations about children, about a house on a hill, about life together that took them into old age. All of it filled him up inside, gave him the substance that had been missing from his life. He’d had women but this was the first time he’d had a true partner.

Brie propped herself up on her elbow, meeting his smiling eyes, her hair falling over her shoulders. “It’s almost Thanksgiving,” she said. “You’re sure you want to stay here?”

He shrugged. “Mel and Jack can’t leave—she has babies coming. Preacher and Paige are here—that’s family. If you want to go to Sam’s, I’ll do that with you. But I don’t want to go to L.A. yet.”

“You aren’t keeping me a secret from the Valenzuelas, are you?”

“God, no, I’ve told them all, every one of them. I even told them to look out—you’re bilingual and tricky. But I’m not ready to share you. In my mother’s Catholic household, it would be separate bedrooms because we’re not married. Even though I’m thirty-seven and she knows we’re living together—it’s her Catholic home. We could stay in a hotel, but I think we’ll visit later. Just give me a little more time. I’ve never been this happy in my life and all day long I look forward to when we’re finally alone together.” He played with the hair that fell to her shoulder. “I’m greedy. This is the best my life has ever been.”

“What about Christmas?” she asked him.

“What about it?”

“Will your family be upset it we go to Dad’s for Christmas? Because my whole family plus Mel’s sister, brother-in-law and the kids will be there—and I want to be with them.”

“Then that’s where we’ll be. We can join the Valenzuelas another time. You have to remember, mija—my family is so large that my parents don’t expect to have all the kids together with their own families every year. We’ll do Christmas with them another year.”

Thanksgiving fell on the last Thursday of the month and Preacher did the dinner in the bar. General Booth and his family were invited, but they drove down the coast to Bodega Bay to be with his sister and niece. There were several Virgin River folk who were included in Thanksgiving at the bar, people that Preacher and Jack had looked after for a long time, and it was a tradition to serve them the holiday meal in the bar. There was Doc and Hope McCrea, Connie and Ron of the corner store, Ricky’s grandma Lydie, Joy and Bruce from just down the street. Now that Preacher and Jack were both married, they’d close the bar on Christmas, but Preacher liked doing his Thanks-giving feast, keeping the bar open in case anyone who was alone straggled in.

When Mel, Jack and Davie arrived for dinner, Mel called her two patients who were close to due dates to see how they were doing, and when the report was that everything was status quo, she asked for her one glass of wine for the trimester. “One of my girls is running a tish late, while the other one has a habit of going early,” she said, raising her glass to Brie. “Any second now, we’re having not one but two babies.”

“You must be so excited.”

“I still get a little wound up, waiting. I live for the babies.”

“And you’re still feeling okay?”

“I’ve been sick as a dog with this one. But I hang in. Jack promises he’s not going to do this to me again. And I’m leaning toward a surgical procedure while he sleeps.”

The turkey was one of Preacher’s very best and the side dishes were perfect. The pies had been made by Paige, who had developed some amazing culinary skills since coming to Virgin River. Preacher had proven to be not only a fabulous chef, but a wonderful teacher. And she was a very apt student who had seemed to find her niche in the kitchen with him.

Mel and Brie helped with the cleanup and Jack helped with the trash and sweeping up while balancing David on one hip. Mike wiped down the bar and tables but, even so, Preacher was busy cleaning up for so long that he missed Christopher’s story time after his bath. He did go upstairs, however, to kiss the little guy good-night, because he found he just didn’t get a good night’s sleep without doing that. Then he trudged downstairs to close up the bar and go to his quarters, where he would lie platonically beside the woman of his dreams, waiting for her invitation indicating that enough time had passed. Every day he wondered when he’d get permission to let it go. He really waited for ovulation day when he didn’t have to hold anything back and which, by his calculations, was about a week away. And Paige was so regular, he had this figured almost to the minute.

When he walked into their bedroom he saw that Paige was sitting up in bed, pillows behind her, sheet drawn up over her naked breasts and a mysterious smile on her face. When he frowned and cocked his head, she pulled a pregnancy test stick out from under the sheets. “Ta-da,” she said. “We did it, Dad.”

Preacher almost fell down. His eyes actually welled up with tears. He put his hands up to his face to try to gain control, but he was overwhelmed. Three months of saving up, waiting for ovulation day, and he had begun to despair of them making a baby. But Mel was right! This is what it took! He could do this again, and again! But wait, he told himself. One baby at a time!

He went to the bed and fell to one knee beside it, grabbing on to that pregnancy stick. “Oh, God! Oh, baby! Are you?”

“Looks like it, yes.”

“Oh, my God,” he said, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms and holding her against his huge chest. “Oh, God!”

“Easy, John,” she said, laughing.

He immediately let go of her. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” She laughed again. “Of course not. But, John, if this little stick is accurate, you’re all done saving up.”

“Paige,” he said in all seriousness, “do you think so?”

“Yes, John, I think so. I’m late for the first time ever, and the test is positive.”

“Oh, my Lord. Oh, my Lord. How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“Actually…I’m pretty horny.”

“Not really,” he said, stunned.

“Oh, really. This saving-up business—I guess you think you’re the only one who missed it. Huh?”

“Well… You got a little pissy there for a while….”

“Well, John, you told everyone it was ovulation day! You’re going to have to learn to be a little more discreet in the future.”

“Anything you want, baby. Anything.”

“Fine. Take off your clothes. Come in here with me. Do that thing you do….”

Mike drove out to Jack’s homesite; it was the first week in December—damp and cold. Preacher had taken a call at the bar and asked Mike to go break the news. Preacher would work on shutting down the bar and closing up the kitchen.

Jack and Paul were both inside installing cabinets; Paul’s crew had already quit for the day and were in the trailer getting together an evening meal. The sun was low in the sky and Tommy Booth was still picking up scraps and dragging them to the Dumpster. Mike got out of his SUV and waited for Tom to turn back his way.

Mike walked over to Tom. “I gotta get you home, buddy. It’s bad news. It’s Matt. There was an explosion. In Baghdad.”

The expression on Tom’s face was one of pure horror. He was frozen for a second and then he called out, “Paul!” It sounded as much like a scream as a shout. It was enough to bring Paul and Jack running to the porch of the house, and for some of the crew to appear in the doorway of the trailer.

Tom looked back at Mike. “Is he dead?” he asked in a terrified whisper.

Mike nodded and the tears instantly sprang to Tom’s eyes. Mike grabbed his upper arm. “Leave the truck. I’ll drive you. I’ll get the truck for you later. You have to be safe—your sister has enough going on right now. She can’t have anything happen to you.”

Tom sucked it back bravely. “Yeah,” he said in a breath. “I’m okay.”