My Kind of Christmas
Donna came from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “We doing okay?” she asked Angie.
“Okay.” Then she went to sit on the floor in front of the fire where her sisters had been. They immediately joined her with very expectant looks on their faces. “If you two make me cry, you’re history,” she warned her sisters.
She saw her uncle Jack come out of the kitchen holding a stack of plates for the dining room table. He stopped short when he saw her, lifting his heavy eyebrows. She gave him a smile and a wave.
“Was it horrible?” Jenna asked. “Letting that hunk of burning love go?”
“Jenna, have you ever actually had a boyfriend?” Angie asked.
“Are you kidding me?” Beth asked. “She’s had seventy-two or so. And none as fine as that Irish dude you caught.”
Angie circled her raised knees with her arms and put her head down. “Temporarily caught. He’s on his way back to the East Coast, I’m on my way back to school and that’s that.”
“But what was he like? Really?” Jenna asked.
“He is the best man alive,” Angie said with a small smile. “You guys got to know him a little—what did you think?”
“I think I would have followed him all the way to Charleston,” Jenna said.
“That’s the thing—I wasn’t invited. He has other plans....”
Uncle Mike came from the kitchen with three glasses of white wine and some snacks on a tray—torn hunks of bread and a plate of artichoke spinach dip. Jenna took it out of his hands and brought it to the floor in front of the fire. “The help around here is outstanding.”
Mike gave a snort, but he put his big hand on top of Angie’s head. A comforting hand. And she reached up and gave the hand a pat.
When he was gone Jenna asked, “Were you in love with him?”
“Stop it,” Angie said.
“Can’t you talk about it?”
“Maybe next week. Talk to me about something else. What are the family plans?”
“Well, in support of our emotional cripple of a sister, we’re having Christmas here. Are you going to come home with us right after? Or are you still on romantic hiatus?”
“You’re being kind of bitchy,” Beth told Jenna.
“Sorry. I was looking for some details. Didn’t I tell you every detail the night I lost my virginity?”
“And every time after,” Beth put in.
Jenna made a face at that sister, but to Angie she said, “And you had that gorgeous man all to yourself for a month and haven’t said a word.”
“Give her a week,” Beth said. “Where did you come from, really? Are you adopted, Jenna? You shouldn’t be so pushy.”
“I’m not talking,” Angie said. Then in a quiet voice she added, “My heart hurts. And I don’t want to cry in front of everyone. So please, Jenna—stop being such a brat. Just tell me what’s in the news or something.”
“What’s in the news is that we are stuck in Virgin River where the one single guy has officially fled and the big event to look forward to is the Christmas Eve children’s pageant at the church.” She took a gulp of her wine. “That’s the news. Drink up.”
Beth and Angie both laughed in spite of themselves. And once they got off the topic of Angie’s romance, they yammered like girls would. They sipped their wine; Beth and Jenna ate the dip and bread. Angie just wasn’t ready to eat. Someone yelled, “Dinner in thirty minutes,” but the girls had formed a tight, protective little circle in front of the fireplace and were somewhat oblivious to the rest of the house.
Angie noticed it was getting dusky outside and she was surprised she’d made it through the day without him. There was a small table between the great room and dining room set for David, Emma and Ness and it brought to mind all those years of setting up the adult table and the kids’ table for the holidays. She remembered being the first of ten grandchildren to graduate to the adult table, an event that filled her sisters with jealousy and loathing.
She abstractly noticed Mel rounding up the kids for their dinner, getting them settled at the table. Mike and Brie were carrying dishes and plates of food to the table. And some fool was honking a horn outside.
Jack went and opened the front door to see who was making the noise. “Holy shit,” he said. He turned and looked into the great room. “Ange. It’s for you.”
She got slowly to her feet, Jenna and Beth scrambling to get up and follow.
When Angie got to the front door, she couldn’t quite take it in. Five cars, all lined up in front of the house, people standing beside them. Not just people. Riordans—the whole family—brothers, wives, their mother, George. A couple of kids—Rosie and Brett. And in the front, Patrick.
“You have to give me another chance, Angie,” he said loudly. Then he spread his arms and said, “I come with a lot of baggage.”
Her hands crossed over her chest. She was afraid to move, to think. Then suddenly she was nudged from behind and she stumbled forward. She looked over her shoulder and Jenna shrugged.
Patrick was walking toward her. She took a couple of steps toward him, standing at the edge of the porch. “Why are you here?” she asked.
He put a foot up on the porch step. “A better question is why did I leave?” He shook his head. “I was just confused. Ange, I was a fool to think I could leave you. And now I’m running out of time—I should have started begging you to take a chance on me at least a week ago. Angie, baby, I love you. I don’t even want to try to make it without you.”
“But, Patrick—there’s Marie!”
“She’s my friend, but I don’t love her. Not that way. And she doesn’t love me. I don’t know what got into me. Listen,” he said, crossing his forearms over his raised thigh and leaning toward her. “I’ll help Marie and Daniel whenever they need help. I’ll be the kind of friend Jake would have expected me to be. But you’ve made me believe that I have much more to offer than just friendship—to the right woman. And if you think I’m worthy, you’re the woman I want a life with.”
“We’ve only known each other a month,” she said. “And I’m supposed to go back to school....”
“I knew how I felt in only a week. I tried to talk myself out of it—it makes no sense, except I can’t stop it. I want you, if you want me, too. I’ll make sure you still get to school—and I’m up for an assignment. Maybe I’ll get to the West Coast. If not, there are awesome med schools on the East Coast and I have to believe any one of them would kill to have you. It’s not like we have to wait until all that’s behind us, we can face this together. There could be challenges, but couples do it all the time—get married, fulfill their ambitions, work as a team. By the time you’re finished with med school and residency, I’ll be retiring from the Navy. We’ll be ready for the next stage—there might even be something we can do together to make a difference. Maybe there are humanitarian organizations that need both doctors and pilots.”
“Married?” she asked weakly. “But there could be separations…”
“Oh, guaranteed! But millions of military couples have weathered that storm successfully. I don’t want to rush you, babe. I’ll wait for you if you need time. Time to be sure of me, of us. It’s not an easy life in the Navy, I know that. But what the hell—there is no easy life.” He smiled at her. “You’ll see—I can be almost as brave and strong as you. The only thing I’m not sure I’m strong enough for is a life without you in it.”
Angie heard a little squeak behind her and turned to see the entire Sheridan clan stuffed into the doorway. Jenna had her hands covering her mouth, tears running down her cheeks. “Wow,” Angie said. “Looks like I come with baggage, too.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “I feel your pain.”
“Are you sure about all this, Patrick?” she asked.
“I didn’t even begin the drive to the airport,
Ange. My legs wouldn’t go. I started wondering how I was going to leave you over a week ago—and it just isn’t in me. Trust me, I’m sure.” He looked over his shoulder. “If you just say yes, maybe we can ditch the entourage and go find some place alone. We have things to talk about. We could pack you up, make some plans, say some more goodbyes and see if we can get a flight out of California. Before you’re due back at school, we’ll have a good idea where I’m going to end up. Please, Angie—come with me.”
She took another step. “Of course I’ll come with you.”
He took her hand and pulled it, kissing her palm. “I’ll do everything I can to deserve you.” Then he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and kissing her deep and long. In front of God and everyone.
Jack dropped an arm around his sister’s shoulders and said, “You know, it’s hell being right all the time. The strain is terrible.”
“Right,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“Brie,” he yelled. “Throw another potato in the soup—we’ve got company!”
The Riordans began walking up to Jack’s house. Paddy and Angie never broke their lip-lock, not even when Aiden gave Patrick a pat on the back as he passed.
Luke was the last of the brothers to pass them. Jack was holding the door for him. “Check that one off,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Patrick and Angie. “Kid’s got good taste.”
“I’d have to agree on that,” Jack said.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Sunrise Point by Robyn Carr.
Acknowledgments
Three very special people helped me with necessary research for this story. Ellen Hedden, MSPA CCC/SLP, walked me through the recovery process for traumatic brain injury, including the struggles the families of survivors encounter. Ellen has compassion so rich and deep, her patients are so lucky. And I am lucky to call her friend.
Candace Irvin, a former Naval Officer and currently a romantic suspense writer, helped me become familiar with Navy terminology.
And Goesel Anson, M.D., a gifted plastic and reconstructive surgeon, walked me through one possible procedure for reconstructive surgery.
Of course, any mistakes or artistic license for the sake of story and drama would be all mine, not these experts who were so generous with their time and knowledge.
I would like to also acknowledge the support of a few friends. We share writing victories and stumbling blocks, laugh together, prop one another up and lend a hand when a hand is needed. Thank you to Susan Andersen, Kristan Higgins, Colleen Gleason, Deanna Raybourn and Jill Shalvis.
To my editor, Valerie Gray, and my agent, Liza Dawson, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Believe me, I never take for granted one second how lucky I am to have you on my team.
The Virgin River series by New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr
Virgin River—in the redwood forests and quiet hamlets of northern California, where the men are handsome and honorable and the women are strong and beautiful, and everyone has a stake in seeing love thrive. Read them all!
Virgin River
Shelter Mountain
Whispering Rock
A Virgin River Christmas
Second Chance Pass
Temptation Ridge
Paradise Valley
“Under the Christmas Tree” (novella)
Forbidden Falls
Angel’s Peak
Moonlight Road
“Midnight Confessions” (novella)
Promise Canyon
Wild Man Creek
Harvest Moon
Bring Me Home for Christmas
Hidden Summit
Redwood Bend
Sunrise Point
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Chapter One
There was a small note on the bulletin board at the Virgin River Presbyterian Church. Apple harvest to begin at Cavanaugh Orchard. Apply in person.
Virgin River newcomer Nora Crane studied the board regularly and, when she saw the notice, asked Reverend Kincaid what he knew about the job. “Very little,” he answered. “It’s a fairly long harvesting season and the Cavanaughs like to add a few full-time workers to their staff. Not many, though. I hear they pay pretty well, it’s very demanding work and it’s all over in a few months.”
Pay pretty well stuck. She was holding her two-year-old daughter’s hand and carried nine-month-old Fay in her backpack.
“Can you give me directions to the orchard?” she asked.
He wrinkled his brow. “Nora, it’s a few miles away. You don’t have a car.”
“I’ll have to go there, find out what the pay and hours are. If it’s a good job with good pay, I bet I can afford day care at the new school. That would be so good for Berry,” she said of her two-year-old. “She’s almost never with other children and needs socialization. She’s so shy. And I’m not afraid of walking. I’m not afraid to hitch a ride around here, either—people are generous. And a few miles—that’s really nothing. I’ll get some exercise.”
Noah Kincaid’s frown just deepened. “Walking home could be tough after a long day of physical labor. Picking apples is hard work.”
“So is being broke,” she said with a smile. “I bet Adie would love a little babysitting money to add to her budget. She barely squeaks by. And she’s so wonderful with the girls.” Adie Clemens was Nora’s neighbor and friend. Although Adie was elderly, she managed the girls very well because two-year-old Berry was so well behaved and Fay didn’t get around much yet. Fay had just started crawling. Adie loved taking care of them, even though she couldn’t take them on full-time.
“What about your job at the clinic?” Noah asked.
“I think Mel gave me that job more out of kindness than necessity, but of course I’ll talk to her. Noah, there isn’t that much work available. I have to try anything that comes along. Are you going to tell me how to get there?”
“I’m going to drive you,” he said. “We’re going to log the miles and get an accurate distance reading. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“How long has that notice been up?” Nora asked.
“Tom Cavanaugh put it up this morning.”
“Good! That means not too many people have seen it.”
“Nora, think of the little girls,” he said. “You don’t want to be too tired to take care of them.”
“Oh, Noah. It’s nice of you to be concerned. I’ll go ask Adie if she can watch them for a little while so I can go to the orchard to apply. She always says yes, she loves them so much. I’ll be back in ten minutes. If you’re sure you don’t mind giving me a lift… I don’t want to take advantage.”
He just shook his head and chuckled. “Bound and determined, aren’t you? You remind me of someone….”
“Oh?”
“Someone just as unstoppable as you. I fell in love with her on the spot, I think.”
“Ellie?” she asked. “Mrs. Kincaid?”
“Yes, Mrs. Kincaid,” he said with a laugh. “You have no idea how much you two have in common. But we’ll save that for another time. Hurry up and check in with Adie and I’ll take you to the Cavanaugh orchard.”
“Thanks!” she said with a wide smile, dashing out
of the church and down the street as quickly as she could.
It would never occur to Nora that she had anything in common with the pastor’s wife. Ellie Kincaid was so beautiful, so confident and the kindest person she’d ever known. And by the way Noah looked at his wife, he adored her. It was kind of fun to see the preacher was a regular man; he gazed at his wife with hunger in his eyes, as if he couldn’t wait to get her alone. They weren’t just a handsome couple, but also obviously a man and woman very deeply in love.
Nora went straight to Adie Clemens’s door.
“Just bring me some diapers and formula,” Adie said. “And good luck.”
“If I get the job and have to work full-time, do you think you can help me out a little bit?”
“I’ll do whatever I can,” Adie said. “Maybe between me, Martha Hutchkins and other neighbors, we can get you covered.”
“I hate to ask everyone around here to take care of me….” But, hate it or not, she didn’t have many choices. She’d landed here with the girls and hardly any belongings right before last Christmas—just one old couch, a mattress that sat on the floor and the clothes on their backs. It was Adie who alerted Reverend Kincaid that Nora and her family were in need, and the first gesture of help came in the form of a Christmas food basket. Through the generosity of her neighbors and the town, a few necessary items had been added to their household—an old refrigerator, a rug for the floor, sheets and towels, clothes for the children. The church had regular rummage sales and Mrs. Kincaid skimmed the used clothing to help dress Nora, as well. Her neighbor three doors down, Leslie, invited Nora to use her washer and dryer while she was at work and Martha offered her laundry, as well. She’d never be able to repay all these kindnesses, but at least she could work to make her own way.
Picking apples? Well, as she’d told Noah, she’d do just about anything.
Noah drove a beat-up old pickup truck that Nora thought might be older than she was, and it definitely didn’t have much in the way of shocks. As they bounced along the road out to highway 36, Nora had the thought that walking probably wouldn’t be as hard on her spine. But as they trundled along, she became increasingly intimidated by the distance, farther than she expected. She wasn’t sure how long it might take to walk it. She’d have to get the mile count from Noah once they arrived. If the odometer actually worked in this old heap of tin.