didn’t figure you for intelligence.”
Luke just shook his head. Well, this was no less than he deserved. He’d taken the general’s niece into his bed, telling her he just wasn’t the kind of man who could settle down. He used every rationalization he could think of to make that all right, but he knew all along that was going to be real tough for the general to swallow. He also knew if Shelby were his niece, he wouldn’t have stood for it. Now Walt was obviously going to torture him for a while. Luke supposed it was his just due.
The front door opened and Shelby breezed in. Both men shot to their feet, but Luke got to her first, slipping an arm around her waist. “Take care of everything?” he asked quietly.
“Uh-huh,” she said, smiling up at him. “I got off easy.” Shelby had left Virgin River without saying goodbye to Luke’s helper, Art. That in itself wasn’t such a crime, but Art was a thirty-year-old man with Down syndrome and things like disappearing without an explanation or goodbye could seem like abandonment to him. “He wasn’t angry with me—just worried.”
Then she went to her uncle. “I’m sorry I didn’t call and let you know I was coming back, Uncle Walt. I had business to take care of with Luke first.”
Walt looked at her beautiful, shining face. Her hazel eyes glowed, her cheeks were flush with love. But looking at Shelby wasn’t the startling part. One look at Luke told the rest of the story. Luke had always had that bad-boy edge, an aura of danger and a short fuse. No more. All the rough edges had been ground down and his expression was docile as a puppy.
Walt just laughed as he pulled Shelby into his arms. He hugged her fiercely. “Shelby, Shelby,” he said. He held her away from him and, grinning, he said, “Looks like you’ve tamed him. He doesn’t have any fight left in him.”
“Thank God,” she said. “I don’t think I could take much more. He’s been a real handful. But Luke still needs a little work, so I’m going to be staying with him now. I’ll be over to help you with the horses every day, just like always.”
“That would be nice, honey,” he said. “There are a lot of horses. Muriel’s out of town and I’ve got the dogs and horses.”
Shelby reached down and gave each Lab a little scratch. “Where is she?”
“She’s gone back to Hollywood for a while. Going to make a movie.”
“Really?” Shelby asked, grinning hugely, her eyes lighting up. “Wow. How awesome.”
She would find that exciting news, Walt thought. He had told Muriel she had his devoted support in achieving everything her heart desired, but in fact he wasn’t feeling real supportive. He was feeling jealous and lonely and out of sorts. And this news about Shelby and Luke just added to his misery.
He shook it off. “Luke?” he asked, looking at the man. When he had Luke’s attention, Walt gave his chin a firm nod. And that was all it took to make Luke Riordan’s eyes light up as though beacons shone from within.
At 1:00 a.m. the phone rang next to Walt’s bed. He thought first of Shelby; she’d thrown her lot in with Luke and Walt hoped nothing had gone wrong. He thought next of Vanessa, Paul and little Matt, his grandson. Young Tom crossed his mind—but a middle-of-the-night phone call from West Point was highly unlikely.
“Walt?” came Muriel’s voice before he could gather his wits and say hello. “Darling, I’m sorry—I know what time it is.”
Darling? Did she call him darling? Oh, those Hollywood types probably called everyone darling. “It’s all right,” he said sleepily. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m okay. This is honestly the first chance I’ve had to call in days. But it’s not going to stay this crazy. I hope.”
“What’s going on?”
“Well, everything. The production company has been staging small parties in key places all over town, trying to create some preproduction buzz about the movie by having cast members show up. I’ve been researching the character, spending some time with the writer, rehearsing lines they’ll only rewrite the second I have them down, looking at wardrobe and set sketches with the production designer, and generally going out to lunch, drinks, dinner, drinks, and talking till midnight. Then I fall into bed and sleep like a dead woman till 5:00 a.m. when I get up and jump on the treadmill.”
He just shook his head in confusion. “What’s the treadmill got to do with anything?”
She laughed. “I have to be in good shape. And I don’t have the dogs or horses to help me do that. I hired my old trainer back to firm things up a bit. I know it doesn’t sound like it, but I’m working my ass off.”
“Well, stop going out for all those drinks and you’ll feel better.”
“I stick to club soda when I’m meeting with actors, producers, promoters, et cetera. They’re not catching me with my pants down.”
He smiled and felt instant shame for having baited her like that. And pride; she was a consummate professional—he should have known that. “That’s my girl.”
“Tell me what’s going on there.”
“Shelby came back,” he said.
Silence answered him. “She did?” Muriel finally asked in a shocked breath.
“Yes, ma’am. And apparently Luke did enough groveling to satisfy her, because she’s moved in with him. And this morning he paid me a visit, asked my permission to propose.”
“Get out of town! Did you grant it?”
“No. I told him to go to hell. I should have just shot him. I told him that.”
“Oh, you’d like me to believe you’re that kind of bully, wouldn’t you?”
“The silly girl seems to love him. And you should see him. Whipped into shape that fast. I bet if we pulled up his shirt, there would be lash marks all over his back. He’s limp as a noodle.”
“I bet he’s not,” she said with a laugh. “Well, good for Shelby. That maneuver never worked for me. When I stomped off into the night, they just said, ‘Okay, bah-bye.’”
“What’s Jack Whatshisname like?”
“Are you ever going to say his last name?” she asked with a deep sigh.
“No.”
“He’s a nice man. Professional, punctual, talented, and very much enjoys the way people fall at his feet. And they should. He’s got the gift. I like him. I think working with him again will be a good experience.”
“Muriel,” he said softly, “when are you coming home?”
Equally soft, she answered, “I don’t know, Walt. And yes, I miss you.”
Jack’s bar was the place in Virgin River where the locals gathered. Not that everyone was there every night, but you could always count on seeing a friend there. There was a military backbone to this community since Jack Sheridan, a Marine who’d done his twenty, had opened
