“Amazing,” Angie said. “It’s almost communal living at its best.”

“Sometimes more than almost,” Jilly said. “There have been many friends and family members under this roof.”

“But Jilly would rather be in the garden or traveling with Colin,” Kelly assured her. “Jilly is a master farmer and Colin is a brilliant painter, but neither of them is interested in running a hotel. For that, they need help.”

The table was crowded for dinner. Angie had never before been terribly impressed with spaghetti and meatballs, but today she was awed. “This is the best I’ve ever had,” she said. “The sauce is wonderful and the meatballs—God, they are perfect in every way.”

Kelly took the opportunity to brag. “First of all, Jill grew these tomatoes and they’re priceless. There’s a farmer in the valley with free range turkeys for the meat—he’s a love. I buy a lot of turkey meat from him. In fact, I like to pick out my turkey and—”

Several people at the table said, “Ewwww…”

“Well, I don’t name them!” Kelly said.

“She picks her calves, too,” her husband, Lief, said. “You probably don’t want to know any more about this process. Chefs like to go to the wharves and smell the fish, grow their lobsters and select their shrimp and crab. She’s very fussy about scallops but she’ll take just about any duck I shoot.”

“And deer?”

“She leaves the venison to Preacher.”

“He’s the best there is,” Kelly confirmed. “But you’re right about the turkey meatballs. And the sauce, my nana’s—the best recipe I’ve ever used. Perfect. And there’s tiramisu for dessert.”

“You will die, it’s so good,” Becca said.

And it was during dessert that Patrick urged her to fill them in on Megan. Before they’d even picked up plates, everyone was eager to add to the fund.

Late that night, back at Patrick’s cabin, Angie snuggled up against him in bed and said, “I envy them in a way. I mean, I don’t want to teach or garden or cook, but still…”

“What do you envy, then?”

“They know exactly what they want. And who they want it with.”

Chapter Twelve

Luke and Shelby were the last ones to leave the Victorian after dinner. Luke held his hefty son; Brett’s head rested against Luke’s shoulder, sound asleep.

“He’s going to f**k it up,” Luke said as Colin walked him to their car.

“Luke!” Shelby admonished. “My God, I hate to even think what Brett’s language is going to be like! Besides, what are you talking about?”

“Paddy,” Luke said. “He’s in love with her, with Angie. And he’s going to move on without her.”

“Did he tell you he’s in love with her?” Shelby asked.

“He didn’t have to,” Luke said. “Right, Colin?”

“I’m pretty sure Luke’s right. I’ve seen Patrick with other women. That last one, Leigh, he was with her for four years and we’d never have met her if we hadn’t gone to Charleston. He didn’t look at her like he looks at Angie. And when Angie looks at him, she lights up.”

“I should have a talk with him,” Luke said.

Everyone laughed.

“How is that funny? That’s not funny.”

Colin put a hand on Luke’s back. “Mind your own business. He’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe, maybe not. The Riordan men aren’t known for figuring things out. And he’s only got another couple of weeks here.”

“He does look better than he did two weeks ago,” Jilly said. “Better rested, I think.”

“Of course he’s rested. He probably hates to even get out of bed these days!”

“Oh, Luke,” Shelby said. “Let’s get you home before you say something stupid.”

“I’m just making an honest observation,” he grumbled. “I should really talk to him....”

* * *

Since that first night together, Angie and Patrick hadn’t spent a night apart. He loved falling into bed with her, loved waking up with her. He knew how much his heart would ache when they ended this, and he worried that it was going to scar hers. But she always reminded him that, even if they did have a future together, he would be deployed often. And she had plans of her own. So Patrick tried, somewhat successfully, to take this comforting routine at face value and not to think about it too much.

Right now, his relationship with Angie out in the open, life was good. They could spend time with his brothers and her family, have a beer or dinner at the bar without ruffling Jack’s avuncular feathers. In fact, in the past week, Jack had become downright friendly.

Angie worked every day, though Mel encouraged her to take as much time to play as she wanted. But Angie was setting up a surgery and wanted to be one hundred percent involved. Megan was scheduled for the operation in one week—on the seventeenth. Angie planned to travel to Davis with her, to get her own hotel room so that after the doctor saw Megan, she could bring her home. Megan’s mother would stay in Megan’s room all night, along with Dr. Hernandez’s nurse.

Paddy begged his way along.

“I’m not sure it’s proper,” she said.

“We’ll get two rooms if you want,” he said. “We won’t use them, but we can get them. Let me do the driving.”

They’d had such a wonderful weekend together, first with the group at the Victorian and then a day of adventurous snowmobiling. And always, no matter what went on during the day, they had that time together alone at night. And there hadn’t been anymore nightmares.

But Patrick still called Marie daily, promising to be with her for Christmas when grief might hit her hardest.

On this particular day, he went to Fortuna to shop. He wanted to stock his refrigerator for that night. He was planning to meet Angie at the bar along with others from town. They’d have a beer or glass of wine, then she’d follow him home and he’d make her a special dinner—Italian beef that had been simmering in the Crock-Pot all afternoon, drowning in spices and gravy, potatoes whipped into silk, peas and carrots. He grabbed a chocolate cake, her favorite wine, his favorite beer, eggs, milk and a few other staples.

He had loved cooking for Leigh, too, but she never seemed to care much, always preferring dinner at a restaurant. Angie, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy everything he made for her and spending the time alone together.

Heading for his car in the grocery store parking lot, he heard a sound that stopped him in midstride. It was that telltale click of a dead battery. Click, click, click. And then a woman got out of her car and lifted the hood. She was a tall woman around fifty years old who looked good in jeans. She had short auburn hair and wore a leather jacket. She stared at the engine. Patrick had seen this before—she thought her problem might jump out at her.

He walked over, holding his two bags of groceries. “Battery,” he said simply.

“I know,” she returned, irritably. “Why now? I’m headed to my brother’s and I’m almost there. I wanted to grab a few things—gifts for his family—and now the car won’t start.”

“Is he close by?”

She shook her head. “Another half hour or so up the mountain. But I can call him....”

“Here’s what we can do,” Patrick said. “I can give you a jump and you can either carry on, let your brother help you. Or, I can follow you to the auto supply and put in a new battery for you. I have a toolbox in the Jeep.” He gave a shrug. “If you need a new battery, which I’m pretty sure you will, you’re going to have to come all the way back here to buy it, anyway.”

“I have Triple-A…”

“It’ll take them longer to get here than it will take us to buy and install a new battery. Let’s just do it.”

She smiled very attractively. “I could pay you for your help,” she said.

“I’m already paid pretty well. And I have a little time to kill. Let me bring around the Jeep, get your engine going and we’ll get this done in no time.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Just when you start to lose faith in human nature… You’re very kind to help with this. Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble. I wouldn’t leave you stranded. I’ll be right back.”

He stowed his groceries in the Jeep and swung around to park directly in front of her. He hooked up the jumper cables and, in no time flat, he had her car running.

“The auto supply is right up the street. Just follow me. This should be simple enough.”

Less than a five-minute drive later, they were in the store together and he was helping her pick out a new battery. Although this didn’t take long, they did have a chance to talk a little. She was visiting family for a few days; he was sitting out some leave near his brothers. He was a Navy pilot, she was a teacher. She said she hadn’t been able to convince her husband to come along and was going to make sure he heard about this. He said putting in a battery was simple, if she wanted to learn.

“I’d rather just make a phone call,” she said.

“Well, if you’re going back in the mountains, your cell won’t work. I think you’re probably lucky your battery went dead here in Fortuna rather than out on a mountain road somewhere, although as long as your engine was running, you were safe.”

“But now I’m safer,” she said. “I bet I can risk going to a florist before I get on my way.”

“A florist, a deli, a dress shop, whatever you feel like.” He tightened down the screw and said, “Start her up.”

She got in the car, turned the ignition and the car roared to life. She left it running, but got out and faced him. “Are you sure I can’t pay you for your trouble?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m overpaid already, seriously. I’m just glad I could help.”

“You’re a very impressive young man. I just wish I could wrap you up and give you to my daughter for Christmas.”

He laughed and said, “I’m afraid I’m taken.”

“Unsurprising.” She put out her hand. “I’m Donna,” she said.

“Patrick,” he returned, shaking her hand. “Drive safely.”

“I think I might look around Fortuna. I have plenty of time. It wouldn’t hurt to grab a few things for my brother’s children, since I’m surprising him.”

“Enjoy,” Paddy said, heading for his Jeep.

Patrick looked at his watch. That little adventure had only cost him forty minutes that he could certainly spare. Then it was home to set up his roast. Easily done. Then he peeled potatoes and got them underwater. He was cheating on the peas and carrots—frozen. But frozen was good. Angie, who loved everything, wasn’t much of a cook. She was easy to impress. In fact, he couldn’t think of a single thing he did that didn’t wind her watch and he laughed to himself.

She was so good for his ego, an ego that had suffered the past year. He’d been feeling unsure of himself. A little lost, really. But Angie brought him back to life, made him smile. Laugh. Most important, with her he could revisit hopefulness. Optimism.

In record time, he was on his way to the bar. When he got there, he jumped up on a stool at the end, staying out of the way.

Jack slapped a napkin on the bar in front of him. “How’s it going, pardner?”

“Good, thanks. Beer?”

“You meeting Ange?”

“Yep.”

“Having dinner tonight?”

“I cooked,” he said. “I’m a good cook.”

“I’m sure,” Jack said, placing the cold draft in front of Patrick. The bar hadn’t filled up yet, giving Jack too much time to linger. “And after dinner?” he asked.

“Scrabble,” Paddy said, lifting the icy mug.

“You two must be getting pretty good at Scrabble.”

“She annihilates me. Every time. And I can spell.”

“She’s brilliant,” Jack agreed. “So, when do you leave?”

“Ready for me to go?” Paddy asked.

“Not necessarily. If you’re fool enough to leave her, I just want to be ready to scoop up my little girl and try to keep her from falling apart.”

Patrick got serious for a moment, against his better judgment. “Jack, it has nothing to do with intelligence—it’s just what I have to do. How this went was always up to her. I swear, I didn’t manipulate her. I was honest from the start.”

Jack sighed heavily. “I know. She was hell-bent. Just try to be a little…I don’t know…sensitive.”

“Absolutely. I think the world of Angie. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever… But, see, that’s not going to count for much because Angie has her own plans.”

“So I hear. But just the same. Go easy, all right?”

Patrick wanted to say something like, I wouldn’t hurt her for the world, except leaving her was going to hurt her to at least some degree. Despite her bravado, she was going to grieve him. He was definitely going to grieve her. He wanted to tell Jack he had regrets, which he did, and top of the list was his making a commitment to Marie, even though he knew it was the right thing to do.

“Hold her up, Jack,” Patrick said. “She deserves better than some jet jockey.”

“Probably right about that.”

And right then, speak of the devil, Angie walked into the bar. When he saw her, he sat taller. “Look at her, Jack. She lights up the whole place. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”