“Please don’t be afraid, Mom. Honestly, I had so many doubts about Doug, I ran for my life. I admire some of the things he’s doing with his life, but I don’t love him. And no matter how much sense it might make to you, I am not marrying a man I don’t love.”

Beverly sighed again. “Of course you shouldn’t,” she relented. “I just never saw a hint of this reaction from you. Not in a year. It came as a shock.”

“I love you, Mom, but please trust me to know what’s best for me. Think of it this way—if I screw up, at least it will be my screwup and not a mistake based on your advice.”

In spite of herself, Beverly laughed. “Well, there’s that. But can I just say this, Becca? Either way, based on my advice or your own instincts, all I ever wanted was your happiness. Please believe that.”

“Thank you, Mom. That means a lot to me.”

“I do wish your instincts matched my best advice a little better.”

Becca laughed.

When Becca got to the bar for lunch, a glance around told her Denny wasn’t there yet. She took her place up at the bar in front of a smiling Jack.

“What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

“Diet cola?” she asked. “Denny’s coming for lunch. I’ll wait for him before ordering.”

“You got it,” he said. When he put the cola in front of her, he tilted his head slightly, looked a little perplexed, and said, “What’s different about you today? Something’s different.”

“Gosh, I don’t know,” she said. She ran a hand through her blond hair. “I didn’t do anything differently.”

He shook his head slightly. “No, something’s different, I just can’t… Ah! I know what it is! You’re in love, that’s what it is!”

She flushed.

Jack chuckled and gave the bar a wipe. “I’m teasing you. Denny stopped by the bar on his way out to Jillian’s farm and he was grinning so damn big, I wouldn’t let him off the hook till he told me what made him so happy. He said all it took was getting rid of his pals to get you two talking and it looked like maybe you could patch up any old differences and put your relationship back together. Got one over on you, didn’t I?”

She couldn’t help but smile at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” she said. “Weren’t you afraid you might embarrass me?”

“Nah. My opinion of Denny is that a girl couldn’t possibly do better. He’s the salt of the earth. Very much admired around here.”

“He fits in,” she translated.

“Denny’s special. But it doesn’t take so much to fit in, Becca. People around here are pretty easy most of the time. Good neighbors, that’s all.”

“It’s more than that, I think. Is it just that you don’t get all that many visitors? Because everyone seems so welcoming. Eager to help each other.”

“Oh, not everyone. We have our bad apples, just like any other town. We cut ’em a wide berth. But for the ones who want to get along, just about everyone’s willing to go the extra mile. Most people are here for one of three reasons—either they grew up here and it never occurred to them to leave or they came here for a specific career like ranching, farming, maybe logging or government jobs like forestry or search-and-rescue. The rest seem to be a little like me—I just wanted to get out of the rat race. I was looking for good hunting and fishing and needed a way to make a living while I was doing that. Getting married and having a family never figured in my plans.” He tilted his head and winked at her. “Good thing I can keep an open mind.”

“Good thing,” she said.

“There’s an old saying around the mountains—if you last three years, you’ll never leave.”

“Why is that?”

Jack leaned on the bar. “It’s not always an easy life. We’re isolated here. It’s a real pain just to get supplies, and if we have an emergency, we’d better be prepared to handle it. It’s not a rich place, by any means—the average income is pretty low. And nature has a heavy hand here—hard winters, forest fires, floods when the snowpack melts.”

“What’s so good about it?” she asked.

“Look around. Especially at night—look up. We have a pretty big sky. Lots more stars than in San Diego. The landscape is rich in natural resources and beauty. And we grow everything a little bigger. Even the marijuana.”

“I heard about that,” she said with a laugh.

“Virgin River isn’t too accommodating to the growers. We like life as uncomplicated as possible.”

The comment left Becca thinking about the complications in her life. She’d never been happier, but the issues were still there—no job, little money with an apartment in San Diego and the rent due, the love of her life living hundreds of miles away. And while he said he loved her, she knew he loved this town, too. In this town, he finally found what he’d always been looking for.

“A cloud just passed over you,” Jack said.

“I think it was that word—uncomplicated. I have a broken ankle, no job to go home to and Denny lives here, while I live so far away….”

“Since those are things you can’t do anything about today, try to enjoy the things that are going right,” Jack said.

At that moment, the thing she enjoyed most about her present circumstances walked in the door. He dragged off his hat and as his eyes lit on her, he began to beam. You’re right, she thought. And as he took the seat beside her, he dropped a possessive kiss on her cheek and grabbed her hand.

“Lunch?” Jack asked.

“Two,” he said. “Thanks. What is it today?”

“Pulled-pork sandwiches. I’ll get ’em. And then I’ll leave you two alone.”

Eleven

After lunch, Denny drove Becca down the street and carried her up the steep stairs, while she held on to the crutches. She could have stayed at Preacher’s house and even napped there, but she chose instead to be out of the way for at least a couple of hours. And Denny was thrilled to get her alone in that little one-room apartment over the garage. He barely had the door closed before he pulled the crutches out of her grip, whirled her around and had her on the bed, his lips hot on hers. He rolled with her until he was lying beside her, snuggling her close. They didn’t even have their jackets off before his breathing was coming hard and raspy.

“Don’t you have to work?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

“I’m thinking of a leave of absence,” he said, pulling her shirt away from her neck so he could cover her with kisses.

“I remember this about you… You’ve always been so passionate. Is this normal?”

“I don’t know, but I think you’re going to be stuck with this now.”

“Poor me…” she whispered, holding him close.

“Okay with you if I just chase you till you’re about ninety?”

“Only ninety?”

“You don’t know how hard it was to go to work this morning. How hard it is to think about going back this afternoon.”

“I’ll be here later, too.” It didn’t seem to be slowing him down. His hands were moving. “Go to work, Dennis.”

“Ugh…”

“Do you think you’ll ever have time to show me the place you work?” she asked.

He lifted his head from her neck. “Would you like to see it?”

“I would, if your boss wouldn’t mind.”

“She’d be thrilled. I’ll take you tomorrow. Bring a book—after a tour, you’ll have to wait for me to get my morning work done.” He sat up reluctantly. “I’ll go now, but I’ll see you later.” He closed his eyes briefly. “God, you smell good.”

“You’d better leave before you change your mind again.”

“Get a nap, Becca. Rest up.” He put her crutches by the bed so she could reach them and headed for the door. “I kept you up half the night. Sleep.”

That was exactly what she intended to do. She pulled the corner of the quilt over herself and with a smile on her face, she conked out immediately. When she woke, it was almost three in the afternoon. She pulled herself up, stretched and reached for the paperback that was sitting on the bedside table.

It didn’t take her long to feel like getting out and the only thing she could think of was Jack’s. By the time she got down the street, she noticed Danielle and Megan, walking into the church. Drawn to the kids, secretly hoping there was another activity she could help with, she followed them.

When she was inside the church doors, she heard voices. She had to manage a few stairs to get up to the sanctuary. There, at the front of the church, the pastor’s wife was talking to the girls as they were taking off their coats. “Hey,” Becca called to them.

“Becca!” they both said, beaming.

She made her way down the aisle. “More after-school projects?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not today,” Ellie said. “The bus just dropped them off and I have work to do. I’m Noah’s wife and the church secretary. While I finish up in the office, the girls are going to work on their homework in the conference room. Trevor and Jeremy are in the basement, hopefully staying out of trouble.”

“I can help with homework,” Becca said.

“We don’t want to be any trouble, Becca,” Ellie said. “You probably have better things to do.”

Becca laughed. “Well, I was going to go skiing, but it’s a little chilly for me.”

“What about Denny?”

“Denny’s working. I’ll see him at dinnertime. Really, I’d be happy to help with homework. I’m great at math and spelling and reading. Almost as good as I am with crafts!”

Danielle smiled enthusiastically, but Megan’s eyes shifted away and she looked unmistakably sad. Becca put a finger under her chin and drew her gaze back. “What? You don’t feel like help?”

Megan shrugged. “I’m not so good, that’s all.”

“At what?” Becca urged.

“Just about anything. I’m not that smart.”

“Well, I don’t believe that for a second,” she said sweetly. “If I help, maybe we’ll figure out your best subjects. Almost everything gets easier with just a little coaching and practice!”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Ellie said. “Go on, girls. Show Becca to the conference room.”

“Yay!” Becca said. “Let’s play teacher and students!”

Once the girls got their homework spread out and Becca had her leg propped up, it took her about ten minutes to see that Danielle was not just up to speed on her work but perhaps ahead of her class. Megan, a year younger and only in third grade, seemed to be struggling.

Becca tried to keep her attention fairly divided between the girls, but she really trotted out all her tricks to encourage Megan. She showed her a few simple exercises that would help her with the spelling words and her reading. “If you’ll copy this word ten times, sounding it out in your head when you write it, I bet when I ask you to spell it, you’ll get it perfect.” And, “Most of this adding and subtracting is just practice and memorizing.” And, “We’ll read together for a while, sounding out the words, and it will get easier every day.”

There was a problem, however. While Danielle was excited about performing for Becca, Megan was dropping little bombs that didn’t bode well. She said she was going to flunk. “Of course you’re not—you’re doing quite well with this homework!” She said her teacher hated her. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that. It would be impossible to hate you—you’re so delightful!” Becca said. And the one that killed her—I’m so stupid.

At first, Becca suspected the parents or siblings. It happened—words like dumb and stupid were tossed around the home and it hammered little self-esteems. But then her mind was changed.

Becca asked if she could look at some of Megan’s papers. She had a folder with at least a week’s worth of work tucked inside. In fact, it was a great deal of work for an eight-year-old. She flipped through the pages and saw something she didn’t like. On all the papers that weren’t perfect, there were painfully negative remarks from the teacher. You can do better than this! This needs work! Do this spelling test again! This is late! Frowny faces!

And on the pages that were excellent, no comment at all. Just a letter grade. A. B. No pluses, no minuses. No stars, no happy faces, no praise. No effort anywhere to encourage the child when she’d done well. Zero positive reinforcement.

Becca had a sinking feeling in her gut. This was sadly familiar to her. For her, it was fifth grade, then again when she was a junior in high school. A couple of teachers who made their impact on her by being ruthlessly negative. The fifth-grade teacher kept telling her if she wanted to get to sixth grade, she’d better apply herself. It didn’t take long before she believed there was a sound chance she wouldn’t promote to the next level and her stomach hurt every morning before school. The high school English teacher, who seemed to favor the boys in the class, told Becca’s parents that she “wasn’t college material.” The family joke was that it was lucky Beverly Timm hadn’t been armed! Both teachers from hell; both enjoyed long careers even though they were mean as snakes and made no effort to help.

Both times, Becca had believed her teachers hated her. What she eventually learned was that she was right! But the teachers actually disliked almost all their students and they weren’t crazy about teaching, either.