by Robyn Carr
“I meant stop laughing, I was being serious. I don’t think I’d fit in around your place. You know?”
She put her hand over her mouth this time to restrain herself. “It’s okay, Courtney. It’s just all that Hollywood stuff. They wouldn’t take it seriously. But whew, they’re sure taking my D in math seriously! I gotta do something!”
“Did you ask the teacher?”
Amber nodded gravely. “He doesn’t explain it any better in private than he does in class.”
Then Courtney laughed.
“Ladies?” the psych teacher asked. “Is there something you’d like the rest of the class to know?”
Courtney stood to her full four-foot-eleven height. “Yes, Mr. Culmer. You’re going to need to hire a consultant to help with the, ah, tie selection. I think Mrs. Culmer is slipping—she really blew it on that one.”
The class fell apart with laughter. They were hysterical; Mr. Culmer was getting redder by the minute. When the class finally quieted and Courtney was again in her seat, the teacher said, “And this coming from a fourteen-year-old with pink-and-purple hair. Thank you very much.”
“My pleasure,” she said, grinning largely.
Courtney had been on plenty of farms; Lief’s parents lived on a farm, the farm he grew up on, even if it wasn’t a working farm anymore. He also had uncles and cousins with farms—in Idaho it was mostly potatoes. She hadn’t thought too much about missing visits to those farms until she was bouncing along on a yellow bus with Amber to go home with her to do homework. She was excited. She didn’t let it show, of course.
She thought it was kind of funny that when they used to visit the Holbrook farms in Idaho, Courtney had never worried about whether she could fit in, but in Virgin River she stood out like a sore thumb. When her mom was alive, she didn’t have pink-and-purple hair, black fingernails and odd, black retro clothing, either.
Courtney and Amber had planned to do homework together when they got to Amber’s house, then Courtney would stay for dinner and they might either do some more homework or play video games or whatever until Lief came to pick up Courtney and take her home. Amber’s dad had offered to drive her home, but Lief had insisted. He wanted to meet Amber’s parents, probably to make sure they weren’t satanists or serial killers.
So—Amber’s parents were much older than Courtney had expected. They were grandparents. She should have anticipated this since Amber’s older, married brothers were all college graduates who worked in the “family business.” And for older people, they were very weird—they didn’t even flinch when they took in her appearance.
First was Amber’s mother, who greeted them in a warm, good-smelling kitchen. She was wearing loose jeans tucked into her rubber boots, and her gray hair was kind of all over the place. “How do you do?” Amber’s mother said. “I’m Sinette Hawkins. It’s so nice of you to help Amber with math. I guess Hawk and me, we’re just too far past all that new math. And her brothers are busy helping their own kids.”
“I don’t mind,” Courtney said.
“Now are you sure your father doesn’t want to join us for dinner?” Sinette asked. “Because there’s always more than we can eat. I do that on purpose—someone is bound to stop by and Hawk likes a hot lunch in the middle of the day, so I keep plenty of leftovers.”
Ah, that would explain Amber leaning toward the chubby side, Courtney thought. “No. He said he has something to do.”
And right then a kid in a wheelchair zoomed into the kitchen. Amber introduced him as her nephew, Rory. He was only eight, wore thick glasses, and maneuvered that chair around like it was a Corvette. “I’m ready for my spelling words,” Rory announced. “Amber, you wanna do my spelling words?”
“I can’t, Rory. I have to do my homework with Courtney. She came all the way out here to help me with my math.”
“How long does it take to do spelling words?” Courtney asked.
“Maybe fifteen minutes,” Amber answered with a shrug. “He’ll get ’em all right.”
“Then let’s do ’em,” Courtney said, barely recognizing herself. But he’s in a wheelchair, she thought. And even that doesn’t give you slack from homework?
During homework, Courtney found out that Rory had muscular dystrophy. When she asked if he’d get out of that wheelchair pretty soon, Amber said, “There’s no cure. Yet.” Courtney was afraid to ask any more questions. After homework, they went out to the barn where they kept one cow and two horses. There were also chickens and a couple of goats and a few dogs, one of whom seemed to move a little slow. “She’s pretty much ready to whelp,” Amber said. “The family’s got a bet going—want to get in on it? Her last litter she dropped seven pups.”
Courtney bet nine.
Hawk, Amber’s dad, was a skinny old farmer. They caught up with him while he was hosing off his tractor out by the family’s big vegetable garden. It was hard to tell if his name was the shortened version of his last name or due to his hawkish nose. He was a little hunched but strong, like maybe he’d been working real hard for a lot of years. Yet when he met Courtney, he turned out to be a little silly.
“I been looking forward to this,” he said, putting out his calloused hand to her. “Been dyin’ to see the hairdo!”
“Dad!” Amber scolded, clearly mortified.
“What? I been dyin’ to. Must take commitment, eh?”
Courtney laughed. “Sort of.”
“Courtney,” Amber said pleadingly. “He swore he wouldn’t make fun.”
“I didn’t make fun,” her father protested. “I can’t help wondering what it feels like. Can I touch it?”
“It’s just hair,” Courtney said, leaning her head toward him.
“So it is. I just have to ask—what did your dad have to say when he first laid eyes on it?”
“It totally freaked him out,” she said almost proudly.
And Hawk smiled knowingly. “Knew there had to be a good reason.”
When Lief saw that window of opportunity—Courtney making a homework date with a girlfriend from school—he was ready to get back to that Victorian on the premise of a tour and some free garden stock. It had only been a couple of days, but Courtney didn’t provide many such opportunities. He realized he’d never thought ahead enough to ask Kelly for a phone number.
The tour and veggies were an excuse, though he did find the property curious and interesting. But really, it was the brokenhearted blonde with the delicious mouth who drew him. And bless her little soul, Lief was almost glad she was overcoming lost love. That would buy him some time. Although he just couldn’t stop thinking about her, he had so many complications in his life to sort out. First of all, it wasn’t likely Courtney’s behavior was going to improve if Lief introduced a new woman into their already tenuous relationship. And any woman getting involved with them would probably be horrified by Courtney’s sass if not her style. Add to that, it had been years since he’d been attracted to a woman other than his wife and didn’t even know where to start. He used to be good with women; it never took much effort to hook up. He really hoped it was like riding a bike…
Yeah, it would probably involve years of therapy for himself and Courtney before he would even get up the courage to chance a kiss.
But when he thought of Kelly, he thought of someone whose beauty and warmth enveloped him, someone he longed to hold, to sink into, to possess. There was a softness and allure to her that made him feel as though he had no will of his own. The second she’d walked into Jack’s he’d felt it, and to his surprise, he’d kept feeling it long after she was out of sight.
But it surpassed sweet comfort—he also thought of sex. Urgent sex. She was the sexiest thing he’d seen in a long time. He had a feeling he could be completely reborn in her arms.
He drove out to the house, parked in the front and rang the bell. She came to the door looking as if she’d just had a wrestling match with the Pillsbury Dough-boy—tendrils of her hair escaping a scarf that tied it back, something floury on
her cheek, her apron stained pink here and there. She was drying her hands on a towel. “Lief!” she said. “You’re about the last person I expected to see!”
He nodded. “That’s because I said I would call. But—I got away without a number. If you’ll give me one, I’ll leave now, drive to the bar in town, call you and drive right back. So it doesn’t look like I’m imposing on—” He sniffed. “What is that wonderful smell?”
She smiled at him and he realized at once that it was really too easy to bewitch a chef—just smell her cooking and she was as good as captured.
“I’ve been baking. The rhubarb crop is in and apparently I’m the only person in a hundred square miles who can make a good rhubarb pie. And then there’s rhubarb jam.” She shrugged. “It was going to go bad if I didn’t.”
He almost swooned from the aromas. “Thank God you came to town,” he said.
“Come in,” she invited with a laugh. “I’m just cleaning up the kitchen. I’ll see if Jill has time to take you for a tour of the house and grounds. Then, if you’re very good, I’ll give you a slice of pie.”
“Are you sure? Because I really meant to call in advance and ask you to pick a time…”
“I’m picking a time,” she said, pulling on his hand. “Come in. I’m still busy in the kitchen and kind of desperate for my shower, but maybe Jill is free. Let’s see.”
He followed her into the house and noted there was no furniture until he got to the kitchen. There, as promised, was a mess. But resting on the kitchen table in the large breakfast nook were ten pies. And there were now other smells. His head tilted back and his nose began to work the room.
She noticed. “I’m roasting a leg of lamb for dinner. Can you stay?”
“Oh, I’m sure I’m imposing…”
“On a chef?” She laughed. “I’m more likely to be insulted if you decline.”
He grinned at her. Maybe that old saying about the fastest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was true, because suddenly he wanted her even more. Wanted! He really thought he was far past that kind of fierce yearning. He had found himself amazed even to be intrigued. This desire was just awesome, and he relished it. “I’ll stay. My daughter is doing homework with a friend and having dinner there tonight.”
“That’s right,” she said. “There’s a daughter. I apologize. I’d forgotten. I’ll have both of you next time.”
He just laughed; they’d have to revisit that idea. “Courtney is actually my stepdaughter, though she uses my last name. It’s complicated. I’ll explain later. But what are you going to do with all those pies?”
“I don’t know. I could use a bigger freezer, but only the most essential equipment is in the house at the moment. I guess I’ll spread ’em around. A few for Preacher, that’s for sure—he told me he’s been trying to make a decent rhubarb pie for years. I can’t believe how much stuff Jill has that’s running out of time—tomorrow I have to get a good start on blackberries. She’s had friends and neighbors out here picking for a good month and there’s still such a big crop left, someone has to do something with it. Blackberry preserves, jam, pie filling…. I came up here to surf the Net for a job, and I’m working my tail off. Let me go out to the garden and ask her if she has time to scoot you around in her garden mobile…”
“Garden mobile?”
“It’s how she gets between her gardens. Have a seat— I’ll be a minute.”
As Kelly hurried out the back door, Lief didn’t go far. He pulled out one of the stools at the work island and just looked around. For some reason, all the messy pots and bowls around the large kitchen made him feel at peace. Ever since growing up on a farm with a lot of siblings and hands, a busy, messy kitchen full of good smells always made him feel safe and protected. And the sight of ten pies cooling on the table was familiar as well—his mother always baked en masse, sharing with family, friends, neighbors, anyone.
Kelly was back quickly. “Jill has just been kicking around the pumpkins, squash and melons. She’s right outside. While you have your tour, I’m going to clean up my mess.”
He stood. “If you wait, I’ll help. I had good training. I’m a good kitchen cleaner.”
“Maybe you’ll get your chance another time. Go on—she’s waiting for you.”
Even though Lief was more interested in the chef than the landscape, he really got into his tour. Jill drove him around acres of land that was partially prepared for organic farming. A winter crop had been started; she was drying seeds from her own fruits and vegetables for the next season’s crop, and she’d started building retaining walls to use like steppes to level the slope of the hill to maximize her planting space in the spring.
The fall harvest of pumpkins, melons and squash was amazing—pumpkins that could indeed make Cinderella’s carriage.
“I’m saving the really big ones from Kelly so the town kids have a crack at them. She has a pumpkin soup she can’t wait to get to and so I’m pushing the smaller ones at her. And these huge zucchini and winter squash—it’s more experimental than anything. Come on, let’s go see what Colin’s painting. This morning he was working on a herd of elephants. He’s just back from shooting the Serengeti—lots of beautiful big game.”
The sunroom on the second floor of the house stretched the length of the building across the roof of the back porch. That was where Colin liked to paint because the light was good. The paintings—ranging from wilderness art to big African game—were astonishing. Also in that sunroom were a sectional, entertainment center and large flat-screen TV—their living room, or a reasonable facsimile.
Lief was fascinated by the creativity in this house. Jillian stretched her imagination in the garden, Colin painted incredible animals from all over the globe, and Kelly was cooking. Today it was pies, but tomorrow it could be dishes that might only be found in a five-star restaurant in San Francisco.
“Come on, Lief,” Colin said. “Let’s get a beer and sit on the back porch. Jilly has to shower off the garden and Kelly is working on making me the shape of Santa Claus. We’re on our own.”
“I feel like I should help somehow,” Lief said. “I dropped by unexpectedly and now I’m even going to be fed and entertained. Maybe I could hose off the gardening equipment or wash the pots.”
Colin just laughed at him. “What I’ve learned is—these girls are going to do exactly what suits them and the best thing for you to do is stay out of the way.” When they got to the kitchen, Colin opened the refrigerator and surveyed the contents. “We have ‘near beer’ and high-test. What’s your pleasure?”
“The real deal, by all means,” Lief said. “How did you stumble into this nirvana?”
Sitting on the back porch in perfect October weather, Lief heard about how Colin came to Virgin River after being retired from the army, a place to recover after a helicopter crash while Jillian had escaped a corporate job in Silicon Valley. They found each other by accident, but in a town of roughly six hundred, they were bound to meet. It was the falling-in-love part that was extraordinary. “I’m not a young guy,” Colin said. “I don’t think Jilly would be offended to hear me say I’ve met a few women—quite a few. I lived a transient, military life and wasn’t ever tempted to settle down. But Jilly? She makes me want to grow my roots deep.”
“Sounds serious,” Lief observed.
“Oh, I’m serious about Jilly. But we’re winging it for right now—just one day at a time. What about you? How did you end up in a place like this?”
He retold the story—wife died, daughter having a hard time of it, needing a smaller, friendlier town than L.A., trying to get past the rough patch of losing a wife and mother, fresh start. The question about what he’d done in L.A. didn’t come until later, when they were all sitting down to dinner together. “I’m a writer,” he said.
“As in newspaper?” Kelly asked.
Right then he suspected he was completely safe from any kind of notoriety. “No, as in script writer.”
“Seriously?” Jill
ian asked. “Like TV or something?”
“Something like that. Movies, actually,” he said.
“How interesting,” Kelly said. “I haven’t seen a movie in years. Well, I sometimes see them after the Academy Awards, when they finally make the cable networks. I’ve been held hostage in kitchens since I was eighteen.”
“And I was taken prisoner by a software manufacturer,” Jill said.
“I’ve been either in Afghanistan or the hospital. You don’t write war movies, do you? I only go for war movies.”
Lief smiled. “Nah. Mostly just family stuff. Kind of ‘coming of age’ stuff.” He was completely safe. Even if they’d heard of the films, they would never have heard of him, which was absolutely perfect. “This is the best lamb I’ve ever tasted. And these potatoes—fantastic. I grew up on a potato farm in Idaho and I’ve never experienced anything like this.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I was missing one or two things, but I think it all worked out.”
“Look out, Lief,” Colin warned. “She’s a little hard on the waistband.”
“You could take it easy,” she suggested. “You don’t have to stuff yourself.”
“Then stop making everything so good!” Colin argued.
Although Kelly was prepared to clean up her kitchen and Lief offered to help, they were pushed away by Jill and Colin. They took cups of hot coffee out to the back porch and enjoyed a cold fall evening. The sky was clear and peppered with a million stars; there was no wind, but the temperature had dropped significantly.
For a long time they sat in silence, enjoying the clean air, clear sky and hot mugs in their hands. Finally it was Lief who said, “This is a wonderful, artistic house—the growing, painting, creating in the kitchen…”
“And beautiful,” Kelly confirmed.
“Will you stay awhile?”
She shrugged before she said, “Jill and Colin are kind of new together. They’ve only been a couple since summer. I don’t want to cramp their style, if you get my drift.”
“You think they need privacy,” he said.
