“Wow,” she said. “Whew. Who’s the hottie?”
Brie laughed and said, “I think our girl is fully recovered.”
Jack let go a little growl. “He’s not the one for you,” he said.
Angie looked around at all the smiling faces—Brie, Paige, Preacher.... “Gee, did I ask if he was right for me?”
Preacher chortled loudly, another thing the big cook seldom did. “Patrick Riordan,” he told her. “He’s here sitting out a little leave. He’s Navy. I think he got hurt or something.”
“Nah, he didn’t get hurt,” Jack clarified. “Luke said there was an accident during his last deployment and he decided to take a little leave or something. Riordans, good people, but that one’s got troubles right now. You might want to give him a wide berth. I don’t know all the details, but it sounds like combat issues....”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to get mixed up with anyone with combat issues,” Preacher joked. And Jack glared at him. Preacher put a big hand on Angie’s shoulder and said, “He’s been kind of quiet and grumpy while he’s been in town. If you got to know him a little, you know what? I bet he wouldn’t cheer you up that much.”
That made Angie laugh. “Well, how about that—we both had accidents. Now, what’s for dinner, Preach?”
“Big surprise, turkey soup. It’ll keep you very healthy. I boiled two carcasses all day. Homemade noodles—the best. Even though it’s not raining, I baked bread.”
Her mouth began to water. “I’m in.”
Mel came from the kitchen. “I called Donna,” she said. “Your mom would like you to email her when you’re settled tonight and she promises to give you a little space to find yourself. She suggests you look at your med school transcripts.”
Angie rolled her eyes. “Dropping out of school was far harder on Professor LaCroix than it was on me,” Angie said. “I’ve never felt so free in my life.”
After a little more small talk, and her beer finished, soup, bread and wine packed up along with some groceries from the kitchen, sun lowering in the sky, Angie was ready to head for the cabin. They stood around outside for a minute and Jack kissed her forehead. “Do whatever you want tomorrow, pumpkin, but remember if you decide to stay in your pajamas all day you’ll miss the raising of the Christmas tree.”
“You’re putting it up tomorrow?”
He gave a nod. “It’s a tradition. A bunch of us went out and chopped it down this morning. It’s loaded on one of Paul’s biggest trucks. He’ll meet us in town with the rest of his equipment tomorrow and we’ll stand her up.”
Mel gave her arm a pat. “It’s not as much fun now that construction professionals are involved,” she said. “It hardly ever falls and crushes whole buildings.”
Brie hugged Angie hard. “I’m so glad you’re here for a long visit.”
Almost teary, all Angie could do was nod. Of all her aunts, she was closest to Brie. Brie had been only twelve when she was born. “Me, too,” she said. “I’ll be here for the tree-raising.” Then she looked around at the little town, the lights shining from inside unfussy little houses, smoke curling from chimneys, folks pulling up to the bar and giving a wave to Jack, Mel and Brie as they went inside. The sky was darkening fast, gray clouds gathering and looking heavy with their burden. “Snow tonight?” she asked.
“Very likely,” Brie said. “It’s way overdue. Call if you need anything.”
* * *
When Patrick got back to the cabin he was staying in—his brother Aiden’s place on the ridge—one of his other brothers, Colin, was sitting on a chair on the deck.
“What are you doing here?”
Colin lifted a bag. “I brought you some Thanksgiving leftovers.”
Patrick sighed. “I was offered those yesterday at your house and I said no thank you.”
“Jilly figured that by now you might have changed your mind.”
“Why didn’t you just leave them in the kitchen?” he asked. “The door isn’t locked.”
Colin just shook his head. “Look, kid, I don’t pretend to understand everything that’s going on with you, but I’m not going to invade your territory. I’ll go inside when I’m invited inside.”
Patrick walked around him and opened the door. He stood back and held it open. “Please,” he said. When Colin stepped inside, Patrick said, “It’s not complicated—I’m rethinking the Navy. But after four years in the Academy and quite a few in the cockpit, it’s not an easy decision.”
“Especially coming right after Leigh stepped out of your life and Jake dies…” Colin added.
“I think they’re called life-altering events,” Patrick said. “It’s actually more complicated, though. I’m due orders. I’m going to get a squadron, and I’m not sure I want to take it. I’ve been given a little time to think about it, and not necessarily because of Jake.” But that was a lie—it was because of Jake. The Navy shrink had ordered his leave.
“You’re grieving.”
“I’m thinking,” Patrick returned emphatically. And then he looked away, remembering with some longing a time when he had been the least screwed up of the Riordan brothers. He had once been the least complicated, too.
“It might help to talk about it,” Colin suggested.
That idea had been suggested before—many times. If his brothers knew how much time he’d already spent with the shrink, they’d either give up on him or get a lot more invasive.
“Colin, not that long ago, we all tried to get you to open up about your issues and it pissed you off because you were feeling very private....”
“I was feeling very secretive,” Colin corrected. “Because after I had augured in in the Black Hawk I was chewing Oxy like M&M’s and couldn’t risk letting anyone in my space.”
“Even before that,” Patrick said. “You were the brother who rarely put in an appearance at family things and, when you did you didn’t last long, so cut me some slack here. I need to be that brother for a while.” In fact, the reason Patrick had chosen to come to Virgin River was because both Luke and Colin lived here, and Sean and Aiden were not so far away. He did want to see his brothers, just not too much of them. And because Patrick had been scheduled to be out to sea and not in Virgin River, the entire Riordan clan was planning a Christmas holiday reunion in warm and sunny San Diego. They had rented two large condos on the beach and his mother, Maureen, with her significant other, George, would go there in their RV. But Patrick would not be going to San Diego. By Christmas, he’d be heading back to Charleston to either accept the new assignment or pack up his gear and out-process. In the meantime, this little cabin of Aiden’s—way up on top of the mountain—was sweet. And remote. And just what he wanted.
Colin put his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “Even before the Oxy, I had turned asshole into an art form. I realize that now. It took having my life gutted to turn me into the sweetheart I am today.” Then he grinned. But he didn’t remove his hand. “But you’ve always been the best one in the family. The most stable, sensitive, settled. It was always hard to picture you as a fighter jock. And now? It’s hard to watch you in pain.”
“I’m not in pain,” Patrick said. “I’m in deep thought. Right now taking on a squadron commits me to the career path. I need some time to think about that. I’ll talk about it after I’ve sorted a few things out. And I’m not completely antisocial—I made it to Thanksgiving dinner, right? I get to town for a beer almost every day.” He didn’t keep any alcohol at the cabin because the temptation to stay drunk for a few weeks was too strong. “I just need a little time, that’s all. There’s no reason for you to worry.”
Colin removed the hand. “Okay, then. So, since you’re not antisocial, hit town for a while tomorrow—they’re raising the tree.”
“The big tree?” he asked.
“Yep. Everyone gets into the act at some point.
I’ll stop by because I’m sure they’ll need my advice. Luke will be in the thick of it. The general and Jack will compete for the boss position, but Paul Haggerty is the one in charge because he has all the heavy equipment needed to raise and anchor it. Getting it up and decorated is a two-day affair and the entire town shows up at one time or another. And then people start coming from all over this part of the state just to see it.”
“I’ll probably swing by in the next couple of days....”
“Good,” Colin said. He handed him the bag of leftovers. “Refrigerate. See you around.”
“Yeah, sure.”
After Colin left, Patrick made a phone call to Marie, Jake’s widow. He called her every day. “Hey, it’s me. How you doing today?”
“Holidays are kind of hard, but I knew they would be,” she said. “I was with my whole family yesterday and they’re a big crowd. My brother has a friend he says would like to take me to a movie, although I suspect my brother might have paid this guy.”
“Nah,” Patrick said. “Who wouldn’t want to take you out? Are you ready for that—to go out, I mean?”
“Not yet,” she said in a very quiet breath. “It hasn’t been very long....”
Just a couple of months, Patrick thought.
“And I was with Jake for a long time,” Marie added.
Six years. Patrick knew exactly how long it had been. They’d dated for two years and then four years ago Patrick was their best man. Two years ago Jake’s son, Daniel, was born and Patrick stood as godfather. He’d been on a mission with Jake when something went wrong over Afghanistan and Jake was shot down. They weren’t the only two on that mission, but Patrick was their lead and the only one who felt responsible. Maybe it was more accurate to say Patrick had survivor guilt—why couldn’t it have been him? Jake had a family who depended on him.
“I know, but can I just say that it’s okay, Marie?” Patrick said. “Few weeks, few months, doesn’t matter. If you feel like you can do it, go out and have a little fun with a guy, it’s okay. Jake wouldn’t mind. You know that.”
“I know. When I’m ready, I will. But, Paddy, I have to get through all the special days without him first. All the holidays and birthdays and anniversaries…”
Is that what we have to do? Patrick wondered. “Did someone tell you that?”
“I’ve heard it here and there. I’ve been doing a little grief counseling with my church group and some people said that after you’ve been through all the important dates, things get a little easier. Or at least a little less terrible.”
“Listen, Marie, I have all this free time. Want me to come back there for a while…?”
“Seeing you is always good, Paddy, but I’ve been surrounded by people since I came home to Oklahoma. I think it’s better if you take care of yourself. I think you miss him as much as I do. You have things to work out, as well. Your own things.”
Patrick was silent for a moment and then said, “I’ve been thinking about giving up the plane,” he said quietly.
“Why?” she asked in a stunned whisper. “Because of Jake? Paddy, you love the plane!”
“Not because of Jake. Because in the long term…”
“And do what? Fly a desk? What?”
“Maybe not the Navy…”
“Okay, now I know you’re all screwed up—you’re more Navy than anyone I know. You’re going to be a commander next and then Joint Chiefs one day.”
Nah, he thought—never anything that elevated and political. He liked flying a fighter; he could exist commanding fighters. But after the accident, Patrick felt like everything in his life had suddenly changed and he wasn’t sure which way to move next. “It’s just something I’ve been kicking around,” he said. “I might not get out of flying, but I have been getting sick of that big, gray boat.”
“Now that I get,” she said. “And that little cot? And the night raids?” She laughed. “When you guys got home, Jake actually said he missed it all, if you can believe it.”
“That’s not what he told me,” Patrick said, chuckling. “He said his sleeping arrangements had improved a hundred percent.”
“Such a wild man,” she reminisced sentimentally. And then with tears in her voice she said, “I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever feel that way about another human being again.”
“It’s too soon to say that,” Patrick said. And his secret, which he didn’t speak of, was that the only way he could get through ten more years in the Navy was with a woman like Marie as a partner. That’s what had made Jake’s life right; that’s what he wanted—someone devoted to him. He was way too alone and he knew it. “We have to get through the year....”
“Paddy, are you very lonely?” she asked him as if reading his mind.
“No, I’m getting by. My brothers are here.” The brothers I try not to spend too much time with, he thought. Lonely wasn’t his problem; as a Navy aviator he was constantly around a lot of Navy personnel—pilots, rios, mechanics, et cetera. On an aircraft carrier the only place to get a little privacy was in the head or up in the sky and little was the operative word—there was always someone in the next stall or in the rear seat of the aircraft.
But like an old married couple, he and Jake had never gotten bored with each other.
When they got back to Charleston, Jake was always with his wife and Patrick was usually with Leigh when she was in town and their schedules meshed. Jake and Leigh, his two closest friends. But then Leigh broke it off after four years and, not long after that, Jake had been killed. Next thing he knew he was spending his time in port with the Navy shrink, working it out. Or not working it out—he didn’t have much to say to the doc and had never mentioned the breakup.
The shrink told his commander to give Patrick six weeks. Getting six weeks out of the Navy was pretty rare unless you’d had some horrible catastrophe like your wife dying of cancer.
Paddy was facing reassignment and he could just turn it down and walk away but his boss wanted him back; he wanted him to take a squadron. But doing that with nothing to look forward to, and without his two best friends—his girl and his buddy—was hard to imagine. He just didn’t know if he was up to it.
He still had a hard time believing they’d left him.
Two
The snow fell heavily on the Friday night after Thanksgiving and Angie was enthralled. Although she had done a little skiing in her time, she lived in a city that had to look up to the Sierras to see snow. The porch at the A-frame cottage was covered and for a little while she put on her heavy down jacket and sat out there just to watch it fall. So silent. So delicate. It was like being on the inside of a snow globe.
The fireplace in Mel and Jack’s little cabin was large and warm and there was no need for any additional heat. She fed it logs and cozied up on the couch under the down comforter that had been on the bed. The sofa was soft and deep and she couldn’t remember when she’d had a better night’s sleep. They got a good six inches that night, and the morning dawned bright and clear with a thick, white blanket of snow on the ground and a delicious dusting on the pine boughs. It was like being on another planet—so far from that L.A. freeway where her life had been forever changed, so far from the house in Sacramento where she’d grown up, the place where she had revisited her childhood so many times during her recovery.
Yes, this was what she’d been looking for. A respite—some old-fashioned peace and quiet.
No one really understood how difficult it was to wake up from a bad dream, determined to change your life. She’d had partial memory loss for a few weeks after the accident, though she knew what she’d been doing, who her friends were, what her plans had been. This whole idea of being a doctor—she knew she could do it and do it well. She’d been groomed for this since her intellectual parents discovered her interest in science. But it was more like getting a plaq
ue or trophy than about what it would bring to her life. After striving toward this goal for years, what was she to do with that feeling that it just wasn’t enough? Perhaps after she watched falling snow, the orange sunsets, the explosion of autumn color and possibly a world-class geyser or waterfall she’d feel that enthusiasm return.
She still had the same friends, even if she hadn’t seen much of them. They were busy in med school and she had a rigorous rehab schedule, plus the relocation from L.A. to her parents’ Sacramento home. One friend was still missing, though—her boyfriend. Alex. They’d been together for several months before the accident—he was a med student, as well. It happened all the time. Students tended to date one another more out of convenience than anything else, because it seemed to fit well with the intensity of med school. Alex left her at some point during her rehab—after the coma, before she remembered everything and could walk again. Strangely, his actions had remarkably little effect on her except to make her think, Wow! Who does that? Leaves a girlfriend while she’s recovering from catastrophic injuries? That thought occurred every now and then.
The phone in the cabin rang, jarring her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. She tried to ignore it. It was still quite early, but she hadn’t brewed coffee and didn’t feel like cooking breakfast, so she pulled her scuffed-up cowboy boots over her torn jeans and grabbed her jacket. The phone was relentless, so with a heavy sigh she picked it up. “Hello.”
“You’re not staying with Jack,” her mother said.
“Hi, Mom. No, I’m staying in his cabin.”
“But I thought we understood each other—you would stay with Jack or Brie.”
“Nope. That was your expectation. I’m very interested in seeing them but not living with them. I was hoping for the cabin or, at the least, Jack’s guesthouse. I want a little time and space to myself.”
“This is exactly what I’ve been talking about. You’re not yourself at all. I’ve made an appointment with a neuropsychiatrist,” she said. “We should get to the bottom of this.”