“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He took a deep breath and slowly turned, leaving Brie and Mike in the foyer alone. She leaned back against Mike and felt his breath on her neck. “God, I feel sorry for him,” Mike said.
“You do?”
“I do. It must be torture for him, knowing what he’s lost.”
“You think he even realizes?” she asked him.
“Come on, Brie—he’s a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. He’s figured it out by now. He gave up an incredible woman. The kind of strong, passionate woman who can commit to the forever thing, once her choice has been made. Not many chances like that come along for a man. Believe me—I know.”
“He might not understand that,” she said. “In the short time we’ve been a couple, you’ve touched me in places he doesn’t even know exist.”
“Hmm,” he said, nuzzling her. “Not because there’s anything special about me. Because you hold nothing back. Do you wonder what was in the box?”
“Not even curious. And there’s a lot special about you. What do you want for Christmas, Mike?” she asked him.
“You.” He turned her around and looked into her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“He doesn’t have much effect on me anymore, Mike.”
“No more questions about what went wrong?” he asked, running a smooth knuckle down her cheek.
She shook her head. “Six months ago I couldn’t think of many reasons to go on living. I had no idea I’d find this kind of happiness with you.”
“I didn’t think I had a chance.”
“You were so kind to me. So patient and loving, waiting for me to be ready. And so passionate—I couldn’t resist you.”
“My past concerns your brother.”
She laughed. “His past concerned the whole family. He should worry about his own transgressions.” She gave him a little kiss. “I’ll worry about yours.”
“You aren’t afraid? Any fear that I don’t know my heart?”
She shook her head. “When I’m with you, I don’t worry about anything.”
“Would you take a chance on me? Let me make promises that I swear by the Virgin I can keep?”
She laughed at him. “Do you really want to get the Virgin involved in this?”
“Before the babies come, mija,” he said. “Because there will be babies.”
“There is that talk about the water in Virgin River….”
He covered her lips in a steaming kiss, pulling her hard against him. “It’s not about the water with us, mi amor,” he said. “If we disappeared for a while, would we be missed?”
“Yes,” she answered, laughing.
“When I woke up in the hospital, I thought to myself, why did I make it? When I was discharged and struggling for every step, unable to lift a glass from the cupboard, my constant thought was that I had misspent my life—carousing, living in the moment, acting carelessly. What every man wants, what my friends had found—that one woman they would give up everything for—had eluded me completely. And when you came along…angry over your divorce and determined never to give a man, especially a man like me, a chance, I knew I’d been cast into hell for sure, because I was feeling that for you.” He gave her a kiss. “How did this happen? I know I don’t deserve this.”
“It started with a promise to break your heart,” she said. “Somehow I got distracted.”
“Will you marry me, Brie? I want you to be my wife. I want to be your husband, your partner for life. Can you trust me with that?”
“Sí, Miguel. I trust you with everything.”
It was the first Christmas in many years that Paul Haggerty hadn’t spent in Grants Pass with his parents and brothers and their families—because Vanessa needed him. She asked him if he would stay; she said it would make her Christmas a little easier. She didn’t have to ask—he would move heaven and earth for her.
The person who needed Paul as much, perhaps even more, was Tommy. The boy was crushed by his loss. He loved his sister more than the average seventeen-year-old boy dared admit, but he’d begun to admire Matt in a heroic manner. He was enamored of his bravery and patriotism. He thought of him as a true brother.
It was typical of kids to take the opposite path of their parents, but even though Tom and his dad butted heads regularly, Walt had clearly raised a young soldier. Tom had been accepted into West Point already and was slated for at least a good long hitch in the Army, perhaps a career. This loss of Matt devastated him.
Paul tried to spend as much time as possible with Tom. He helped him take care of the horses and took him over to Jack’s house to help out for a few hours here and there prior to Christmas. On Christmas morning a beautiful snow fell, dusting the pines and the trails, and they took a couple of the horses out for a ride.
“You think he was scared?” Tom asked Paul out of the blue.
But of course there was no confusion about whom he was speaking. “Maybe not at that moment, since the explosion was a complete surprise. But in that situation, everyone is scared. You wish you could crawl into your helmet and wait for it to pass. But damn, it’s exhilarating, Tom. The training, the physical challenge, putting it all to the test when it really matters. When everything’s at stake. Not a pay raise, not an extra day of vacation—but your freedom. Your wife’s freedom, your son’s, your parents’. You think about that when you’re really up against it—that there’s purpose in what you’re risking. Great purpose. That’s what keeps pulling men like Matt back. Men like Jack. Jack did a twenty. If Matt had made it twenty, he’d have been as decorated as Jack.”
“I don’t know if I have the stuff,” Tom said. “I want to do well, but…”
“It’s not a good idea to go that route if you don’t feel it. It’s got power. The power of conviction. It’s full of adrenaline. The rush. It’s hard enough when you do feel it.”
“How do you know?”
Paul shrugged. “I can’t answer that, son. I wasn’t sure till I was there. For us, me and Matt, it was Iraq the first time, and it was nothing compared to this. But once I got there, I knew I was supposed to be there. That’s when we met Jack Sheridan, Preacher and Mike.”
“But you got out.”
“The reserves was enough for me, but that ended in Fallujah—where I took a bullet and donated a spleen. Okay by me—I wanted to serve, but I didn’t want that career. I have the career I want. I love building houses. The most important thing for you to remember is you don’t have to make this decision now. You have years before you have to do that.”
“You think Vanni’s going to be all right?” he asked.
“Not right away. She’s going to have to grieve him. Eventually, though, she’s going to get on with her life because she has that gift, that love of life. I’ve never known a woman as alive as Vanni. And she’ll have a son to raise. She’ll be okay. Just a matter of time.”
“I hear her at night. Crying.”
“Yeah,” Paul said. “So do I.”
They took the horses on a path along the narrow end of the river that cut through the general’s property and Paul pulled back on the reins. “Tommy,” he whispered. “Over there.”
At the water’s edge was the most magnificent buck Paul had ever seen. Drinking from the river, he had twelve points, six by six, a thick white throat, a long, handsome snout and black nose. God, he was beautiful. “There’s an old guy. He’s dodged the hunters for a few years.”
“Look at him,” Tom said. “I’d never be able to shoot him.”
“His meat might be a little tough anyway,” Paul said. “We’re going to have to start bringing a camera with us.”
They sat in silence and admired the stag. One of the horses whinnied and the deer’s head came up. He sniffed the air and then turned and ran into the trees.
“You think it hurt him?” Tom asked. And again Paul knew it was Matt of whom they spoke.
Paul reached across the distance that separated them and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Son, he didn’t feel a thing. He might be wandering around heaven right now, wondering what the hell hit him. No pain. And I’m not just speculating—your dad got in touch with his platoon commander.”
As they headed back to the house, Tom said, “Tell me about Jack. About these guys…”
“Jack,” Paul said. “When Matt and I met him, he was already a marksman, a sniper, a decorated Marine, and we were kids. I served under him again when my reserve unit was called up—that’s the group that still hangs tight. By the time Jack retired he held more medals than I could count. He saved a lot of lives—he served in five combat zones. He went in as a boy, but damn, he must have had some instinct about it because he was a huge success, a bona fide war hero. Then when he got out, he came to Virgin River and rebuilt that cabin into the bar and grill, married Mel when she got here and seemed like this pretty regular small-town guy.
“But he’s no ordinary small-town guy—he’s still a fighting Marine. There was an incident—a guy came out of the woods in the middle of the night, looking for drugs at Doc’s. Mel was staying there. He broke in, put a knife to Mel’s throat, threatened to kill her for the drugs. Doc heard something and called Jack, who was asleep at the bar across the street. He grabbed his handgun, a nine millimeter, and ran. He managed to get on a pair of jeans and that’s all. Half-dressed, barefoot, a couple of big tattoos on those huge arms of his, and I don’t know if you’ve ever seen that killer look he can get on his face—he must have looked like a wild man. He kicked in the door at Doc’s and was face-to-face with this lunatic holding his woman, big serrated knife to her throat, and he had a little, bitty target.” He held up his thumb and forefinger. “Right next to Mel’s face. Now, you can see how he is with Mel—he worships her. No way he’d ever risk her life. But it took him about a second to make up his mind, to act. He took the guy out. Shot him in the head, killed him.”
“No way.”
“He did. He’s the kind of guy who never hesitates. But he knows what he’s doing—he knows what he can and can’t do. Knows what he has to do. And then he does it—clearheaded.”
“What a stud,” Tom said.
Paul laughed.
“What about Mike? Valenzuela?”
“Mike? After our first hitch, he went to LAPD and stayed in the reserves, like I did. We were activated at the same time. We had some hard fighting in Iraq, but he got through that with a couple of medals. He held off insurgents at Fallujah, saving the whole squad. Joe and me were bleeding all over the place, and so were some others, but Mike kept them back till Jack and the rest of the platoon could effect a rescue. But then about a year ago back in L.A., as a police sergeant in a gang unit, he got taken out by a fourteen-year-old gangbanger in a playground. He took three bullets and it almost killed him. LAPD retired him and he came up here to recuperate—Mel helped him with his physical therapy. Now he’s the town cop—bet he never saw that coming. And you already know about Brie, right?”
“What about her?”
“Well, it’s no secret and you’ll hear about it sooner or later. Brie was a Sacramento ADA, an assistant district attorney. She put away a lot of dangerous criminals, but then she prosecuted a serial rapist and lost the trial. The guy had brutally raped a bunch of women, and he walked. And then he raped and beat Brie.”
“Come on—are you shitting me?” Tommy asked, appalled.
