Shelter Mountain (9 page)

Preacher sat on the floor right next to her. “Did you hear what I said? I didn’t say anything like that, did I? I said, you have to be careful, don’t use your charge card.”

“I heard you,” she said in a whisper. “Did I tell you I married him because my legs hurt?”

“You haven’t said anything about him,” Preacher said.
“Nothing at all. That’s okay—you don’t have to say anything unless you want to.”

“I was a beautician. Hair, I did hair. Sometimes twelve-hour days because the pay was so low. We really worked hard. I never had enough for the rent and my roommates and I lived in a real dump. I loved it, but I was tired, broke. Sore. My legs hurt,” she said again. “I knew he was bad for me, my friends hated him, and I married him because he said I didn’t have to work anymore.” She started to laugh and cry together. “Because I didn’t have anything. Because I had nothing…”

“Guys like that know just what to use for bait,” he said. “They have a sense for it.”

“How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “I read about it.” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. You got tricked.”

“I have nothing again,” she said. “A little suitcase, a car with stolen license plates on it, a child and one on the way…”

“You have
everything,
” he said. “A car with stolen license plates, a son, a baby on the way, friends…”

“I had friends before,” she whispered. “They were scared of him. He ran them off and I lost them forever.”

“Do I look like the kind of friend he can scare? Run off?” He pulled her gently onto his lap and she rested her head against his chest.

“I don’t know why I stay so crazy,” she said softly. “He’s not anywhere near. He’ll never guess this place. But I’m still scared.”

“Yeah, that happens.”

“You’re never scared,” she said.

He chuckled softly, stroked her back. He was scared of a bunch of things, number one being the day she got these problems managed and left with Christopher.
“That’s what you think,” he said. “In the Marines, they used to say everyone’s afraid, so you have to learn to use fear to your advantage. Man, if you ever figure out how you do that, let me know. Okay?”

“What did you do when you were scared?” she asked.

“One of two things,” he said. “I’d either pee myself, or I’d get mad.”

She lifted her head off his chest, looked at him and laughed a little.

“That’s a girl,” he said, wiping off her cheeks. “I think you need to get out of Virgin River a little bit. But you’re probably in no shape to go shopping today.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I made a scene.”

“It’s a little country bar, Paige. We live for those.” He grinned. Then he sobered. “They also used to say, stare it in the face—fake brave. They taught us to look mean.”

She shuddered.

“Never mind all that. Tomorrow I’ll go for supplies instead of Jack. He can get lunch for once. I’ll take you and Chris, get you out of town for a break. You can pick up a few things, if you want to. I’m not buying you anything, though. I’ll use the bar charge card so we can get our annual perks, you save your receipts and catch me up later, after a payday or two.” He touched her nose. “Chris is running around naked. Suggests a wardrobe problem.”

Jack had backed out of the kitchen slowly when Preacher asked for a moment. As slowly as he could, because something major was happening and he was curious. When he got back to the bar, Mel was waiting, up on a stool. “What’s up?” she asked.

Jack put a finger to his lips, shushing her. “Something’s going on,” he whispered.

“Yeah?” she asked, none the wiser.

Jack stuck his head back close to the door. Eavesdropping.

“Jack!” she scolded in a furious whisper.

He put a finger to his lips again. Then with a frown on his face, he went behind the bar and glared down at his pretty young wife. “Paige is having a breakdown in there….”

“Oh? Does Preacher need help?”

Jack shook his head. “He asked me to step out. I heard a couple of things, purely by accident.”

“I saw…”

“She has a car with stolen license plates?”

Mel sat suddenly straight, eyes wide. “No kidding?” she asked. “I guess I better check mine, see if they’re still mine.” Then she smiled cutely.

“And there’s a baby coming?”

“Really?” she asked.

“You’re not fooling me,” he said. “You know things.”

Mel made a face at him, as if to say,
Duh. Of course I know things. Patient things.
She might have shared Paige’s bruises with him, so he could be prepared for anything and help protect her, but she wasn’t a bigmouth. She got off the bar stool and went to the swinging door to the kitchen. She peeked; Preacher was sitting on the floor, gently rocking Paige on his lap. Ah, that was probably exactly what she needed at the moment. Better than a sedative.

Mel walked behind the bar and got up on her toes to kiss Jack. “I don’t think she wants to go shopping. Tell her I went ahead—I have to cover up the baby.”

“You do that.”

“Um, Jack? I don’t quite know how to explain this to you. You and I have such different life experiences with things like this….”

“Starting with, I would
never
hit a woman.”

“That’s lovely, Jack. That’s not what I mean. Hmm,”
she said, looking skyward. “It might be easiest for you if you thought of Paige as a POW.”

“A POW?” he asked, looking startled and confused at once.

“That’s the closest thing I can think of that you can relate to. I’ll be back as soon as I have a bagful of elastic waistbands, okay?”

“Sure. Okay.”

A couple of hours later, with still plenty of time before the dinner hour, Jack was sitting on the porch, tying off flies for fishing. Paige came onto the porch holding a slice of fresh apple pie on a plate. He took it and said, “Oohh, still warm…”

“I’m sorry about before, Jack. I’m a little embarrassed.”

He looked up at her, saw a sweet, docile face—the face of a devoted young mother, a pregnant woman running to protect her unborn baby. And, as he had been instructed by Mel, he imagined an enforced barricade, deprivation, regular beatings, fear of death—for
years.
It was not only hard to imagine a young woman like Paige, so helpful and tender, going through something like that, it was
impossible
to imagine the kind of man who might subject her to it. “Don’t worry about that, okay? We all have our moments.”

“No, we don’t. Only I—”

He cut her off, laughing. “Oh, don’t go there. Don’t go the ‘only I have this baggage’ route. Ask Mel—not long before I married her, I had a fantastic meltdown. Come to think of it, so did she!” Then he frowned slightly. “On second thought—could you take my word for it?”

Paige tilted her head. “She wouldn’t want to be asked about that?”

“Nah, I don’t think she’d mind. It just pisses me off—the way she never tells me anything, and I just lay it all out there. I don’t know how she does it.”

“That’s okay, Jack.” She laughed. “I won’t ask. I apologize, however.”

“No need, Paige. I just hope you feel better.”

John took the supply list, Chris and Paige to Eureka. They went to Target first so the groceries wouldn’t go bad in the truck while they shopped. She bought a few things—underwear, jeans, shirts. John held Chris’s hand outside the dressing room while she tried things on. They stopped at the bookstore. John spent some time in the history section, picking up a couple of books—the same type she’d seen on his bookshelf. Then when he came to the children’s section to see if they were ready to go, Paige put up the books they’d been looking at and said, “Okay.”

“Maybe we should get a new book or two,” he said.

“We have his favorites,” she said.

“We could use two new ones,” he said. “Okay if I do this?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said.

Maybe the best part of the outing was the drive. She’d come into Virgin River at night, in the rain, and except for her quick trip to Grace Valley along the back mountain roads, hadn’t seen much of the countryside. John took them for a little drive along the high cliffs of the Pacific Coast—so different up here in the north than in L.A. He passed through a redwood grove, then up into the mountains toward Virgin River.

She looked over at him as he drove; he was grinning. “Why are you smiling?” she asked him.

He turned to look at her. “I’ve never been shopping with a woman before,” he said. “I didn’t hate it.”

D
uring her stay in Virgin River, Paige started out in the bedroom above the kitchen, reluctant to step outside. Next the kitchen, then the bar, then late evenings with John in front of the fire, talking. And then she’d begun working, getting to know the locals. Gradually her circle widened until she’d been to the corner store a few times, then she’d gone to the little library, open on Tuesdays, to get picture books for Chris and novels for herself.

In only three weeks, she no longer felt like a guest. A newcomer, certainly, but for the first time in years, at ease with her surroundings. The days were long, the work wasn’t light. Her legs hurt again, and this time she was grateful for the opportunity to spend this kind of physical energy rather than being locked up and emotionally drained from the constant tension and uncertainty of her life. She fixed her own breakfast and lunch, ate dinner in the kitchen with Rick and John between hustling meals and doing dishes, and it felt
good.

After Chris was asleep, she read for a couple of hours, and actually fell into the story, something she hadn’t been able to do in years. She left her sleeping boy to go downstairs to get herself a glass of milk, smiling as she de
scended the stairs—there was always a night-light on in the kitchen, welcoming her. She noticed a glow from the bar and peeked in. John sat in the darkened bar at the table in front of the fire, his feet up on the open hearth. She walked into the room.

“Isn’t this awful late for you?” she asked.

He jumped in surprise, put his feet on the floor and sat up straight. “Paige! I didn’t hear you come down.”

“Just prowling around, getting a glass of milk. What’s the matter? Can’t sleep?”

“Having a little trouble, yeah. I’ll go in a minute.”

“Want some company?” He had a strange look on his face. “Oh, I guess you want a little time to yourself.”

“That’s okay…” he said.

“No, I understand. You’ve been here alone all this time and now you have people underfoot. I’ll just see you in the—”

“Sit down, Paige,” he said, somber. Unhappy.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, pulling out a chair.

He shook his head. “It’s not so good. I didn’t want to do this tonight. I wanted to save this for morning.”

“Did I do something?” she asked, frowning. “Is there something I need to—”

“You’re perfect,” he said. “It’s not you—you’re perfect. I got some bad news a little while ago. Wes did it—what you expected. He finally did it. Reported you and Chris missing. Almost two weeks ago.”

She was stunned speechless for a moment. She sank weakly into the chair. While she was settling in, growing more comfortable with her surroundings, her new friends, he had crossed her mind often. She’d look over her shoulder; she couldn’t help it. A shudder would pass through her now and then and often her heart would start to beat a little wildly and she’d have to focus her energy on breathing evenly, reminding herself he was nowhere near, and it would pass.

She closed her eyes briefly. “I’ll go up and pack,” she said softly. “I’d better get going. Get back to the plan…”

“Don’t pack yet, Paige,” he said. “Let’s talk about it.”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about, John. He’s after me—I have to get us away. I can’t afford to take a chance.”

“If you run, you’re taking a bigger chance. If they pick you up, they’re going to take Chris to him and arrest you. You have to do it, Paige. Face him down,” Preacher said. “I’ll help. I’ll find a way to get you through this.”

“There’s only one way through this—I have to get out of here. You said it yourself, he’ll outsmart me.”

“I never said that,” he argued. “I said you’re not devious. But I think you can beat him. I know a couple of people—my buddy the cop, for one. There’s a judge in Grace Valley I’ve been fishing with—I know he’ll help if he can. Jack’s little sister, Brie, is a lawyer—a hotshot lawyer in the state capital—and she knows everyone. Brie—she’s so smart, it’s scary. We have to ask some of these people how you can get out of this mess and have a real life. I’ll see it through with you, till you’re free and safe.”

She sat forward in her chair. “Listen, why are you doing this? What do you think you’ll get out of it?”

“Me? Sleep, that’s what. When this is over, I’ll sleep at night knowing you’re not getting beat up, knowing Chris isn’t growing up mean, learning how to beat on women. Paige, I saw. That first night, when I brought you clean towels, the door was open a little and you had your shirt pulled…” He stopped and hung his head. Then he raised it and looked her dead in the eye and said, “That was no little slap. No little argument.”

She looked down into her lap. It was unbearable to think he’d seen that awful mess.

“Listen,” he said, lifting her chin with a finger. “I was okay with my life until you walked in the door that night,
with your kid and your bruises. It was all right with me to fish and cook and clean up—I never minded being alone. I’m never going to get married, have kids of my own—I know that. But I can do something about this—”

“
This
isn’t your business!”

“It is now! Even if you’re not counting on me, that kid is! He counts on me every day, from the time he comes running down here in his jammies until he’s finally sound asleep! When you and Chris leave here, I’m going to know we did everything we could to keep you safe from that bastard!” He took a breath. “Sorry,” he said. “I can sound as scary as I look.”

“You don’t look scary,” she said so softly he barely heard. “And if this doesn’t work?”

He straightened. “Then I’ll help you get to someplace safe. I’ll do whatever it takes. Jesus Christ, Paige, if I don’t do this, what am I gonna do with my life? When something like this hits me square in the face and I ignore it, what am I worth then, huh?”

She gazed at his pleading expression and shook her head almost sadly. “How do you know you’ll never get married and have kids?” she asked him.

“C’mon,” he said, frustrated.

“Really.”

“To start with, there’s not a single unmarried woman over eighteen and under sixty in this town—that might be one clue.”

“There’re lots of towns…”

“Jesus, do we have to make this about me? Your kid, he’s the only kid ever came near me. Christ, they hide behind their mothers when they see me.”

She smiled at him. “You’re swearing like mad. I bet your mother’s turning in her grave….”

“Spinning,” he agreed. Then, pleadingly, “I know you’re scared. Are you too scared to try to stare the
bastard in the eye and face him down if I swear I have your back? If you have lots of help?” He took a breath. “Did you know, when you come face-to-face with a bear, you never run? You straighten up tall as you can. Puff up and try to make yourself big. Make a lot of noise. Act tough, even if you’re not tough.” He shook his head. “You’d have trouble doing that, little as you are. But you should think about the theory. If you act like you’re not scared and you have help, good and strong and smart help—you might get this behind you. We’ll help. The judge, Mel, Jack, Brie. Mike.”

“Mike?” she asked.

“My buddy the cop. Mike.” He swallowed. “He says what you really have to do right now is turn yourself in—maybe not to the police. But to someone in the law, someone who will listen to your story. I’m thinking a lawyer, or the judge.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay?” he repeated, surprised.

“Okay. I’m terrified, but okay.” She shuddered. “It’s your way or running, hiding. Either way, the danger is pretty much the same. Him.” Then, quietly, “Thank you. For offering. To help.”

“It feels good to help,” he said. “Just do it for Chris. Let’s get him outta this mess.”

“Yeah, I’ll try that,” she said, but her voice was shaky.

Preacher didn’t look like the kind of guy who could use looking after, watching over, but this is what Jack did. It was partly out of habit—he’d had the big man’s back since they were in the Marines together; Preacher had served under him twice, the first and second Iraq conflicts.

There was another reason Jack was watching closely right now, and that was because Preacher was changing. Jack recognized it at once because it hadn’t been so long
since he went through similar changes—although Jack had known exactly what was happening to him, and he suspected that Preacher did not.

After twenty years in the Marine Corps and three in Virgin River, Jack had never formed a strong attachment with a woman. It never occurred to him to settle down, commit to one woman. The closest he’d ever come was one woman at a time. And then Mel came to town to work alongside old Doc Mullins and before she’d been here a week, Jack was cooked. It was the right time, the right woman, the right circumstances. And while it shook him, startled him to feel what he was feeling, it never confused him. It was unmistakable. He’d fallen in love with such a horrendous crash it surprised him that the redwoods hadn’t trembled, as though an earthquake shook them.

It had happened almost as quickly to Preacher. Paige appeared that rainy night just three weeks ago with her child and her bruises and Jack could sense a fire in Preacher right away. At first it appeared to be an intense need to right a wrong, to protect—typical of Preacher. He was that kind of man—tough on the outside and soft on the inside. Justice and loyalty—those values were everything to him. But in the days since what he saw had evolved. Preacher watched over Paige with an intensity that spoke of something more than the goodness of his heart. He would glance at her and his eyes would grow dark. Glow. He’d shake himself, look away, and his brow would furrow as though he were trying to make sense of feelings he hadn’t had before.

Jack and Preacher had such different histories with the opposite sex. Jack had never done well with abstinence—he had always had a woman somewhere. He was driven by those needs. But Preacher was solitary. And while a very private person, he wasn’t secretive. In fact, he was candid. Transparent. Jack was sure that if he’d had
women around, Jack would know about it. No, he was fairly sure—this was a first for Preacher. He was powerfully attracted to a woman and didn’t have any idea what to do about it.

Jack watched Paige, as well, because he cared deeply about his friend. This was a kindhearted and vulnerable woman, and she was tender toward Preacher—but it was entirely possible it was no more than gratitude. If she were ever able to put the threats she faced behind her, she would probably go away. Back to a family somewhere, perhaps. Or even some new place.

For now, they were inseparable. The three of them. Preacher kept Paige and Christopher under his protective wing, as though danger loomed nearby and might strike at any moment. When there were no patrons in the bar, Preacher and Paige sat at one of the tables and talked or played cribbage; if Christopher wasn’t napping, he was on Preacher’s knee. When the place was busy, fishermen dropping in for drinks or dinner after a long day on the Virgin, Paige and her son would be in the kitchen with Preacher, helping out or just keeping him company. She worked in the bar, apparently content with her duties and constantly checking with Preacher to ask what he’d like her to do.

It was obvious what Preacher was beginning to feel. Not so obvious what Paige was feeling. And no time presented itself in which Jack could talk to Preacher privately. Of course, he wasn’t sure what he’d say, anyway. But there was one thing Jack had heard—these domestic situations were probably more dangerous than war. Volatile, unpredictable, lethal. Cops often said they’d rather walk into an armed robbery than a domestic. Jack didn’t want anything bad to happen to this woman—he liked her. But he also didn’t want anything bad to happen to Preacher.

With this on his mind, he wanted to talk to his wife about it. “I’m going to step out for a while,” Jack said to Preacher. “You got the bar?”

“Got it,” he said.

Jack walked across the street to Doc’s where he found Mel and Doc playing gin at the kitchen table. Mel had a nice little stack of pennies sitting by her hand. When she saw him standing there, her blue eyes sparkled and she smiled at him. “When you’re done with the game, can you go for a ride with me?” he asked.

“Where?”

He shrugged. “Just for a ride. Me and you. The sun’s out for a change.”

“You can be done right now,” Doc said. “I haven’t had gin once.” He threw his cards down and stood up.

“You need to work on your sportsmanship,” she told him.

“I need to work on my cheating,” Doc returned, heading out of the kitchen.

Mel got her coat and walked outside with Jack. “Where are we going?” she asked again.

“Just for a ride. Tell me about your morning.”

They held hands as they walked out to Jack’s truck and he opened the door for her. When he was in beside her and driving, she said, “We haven’t had anything very interesting. This nasty weather we’ve been having seems to be bringing out the viruses—lots of runny noses, coughs, fevers. We’re running through the decongestant. I think I feel a cold coming on.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, but my head is stuffy and one ear is plugged. And I can’t take the decongestant because of you-know-who.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be working in a doctor’s office right now. All those germs,” he said.

“Oh, stop.” She laughed. She smoothed her hands over
her little pooch of a tummy. “You’re going to be a little on the overprotective side.”

They drove out of town to the west for about ten minutes and Jack turned off the road, then he stopped. “It’s bumpy. The road sucks. That okay?”

“As long as I don’t hit my head on the ceiling, we’re okay. What is this?”

“Something I came across and wanted to show you. Hang on and I’ll go slow. We’re going up.” And up and up, along a winding dirt road wide enough for only one vehicle, through the trees. Then momentarily they broke out in a big, grassy clearing from which you could see for miles. “I thought you’d love this view.”

“Oh. My,” she said, taken with it. She looked across fenced pastures, ranches, farms, orchards, a vineyard. Behind them the pine-covered hills rose and in front of them, the hill sloped down to the valley.