Temptation Ridge (Virgin River #6)(13)

“Uncle Walt has a woman?” Shelby asked in shock. “A famous actress?”

“Well, it took him a long enough. I don’t think it even crossed his mind after my mother died, five years ago. It’s high time. Everyone needs someone. Age certainly has nothing to do with it. But I wish they’d loosen up. I’d like to hear about all the famous people she knows.”

Now they all had a special someone, her young cousin, even her Uncle Walt.

As a teenager, Shelby had been in most ways a typical girl, if a little on the shy side. She got good grades, had girlfriends, was active in school activities. She’d had a nice little part-time job at the library after school and had even gone through a few boyfriends. She went to games, slumber parties, dances. Her friends tended to run in a pack more often than as dating couples; some had high-school boyfriends who were serious, but most of them, including Shelby, were damn happy if they had dates to the homecoming dance or the prom.

She might’ve been a little more cautious than the average teenage girl—her mom had been very honest about her accidental pregnancy at the age of eighteen, her short marriage that had become a nonevent as she was divorced when Shelby was just a baby. No way Shelby was letting something like that happen to her. She knew she’d be a late bloomer.

She hadn’t thought it would be quite this late….

Shelby was only nineteen when the life typical of a girl her age halted and a whole new set of responsibilities took over. Uncle Walt had been more than willing to cover the cost of nursing-home care for his sister, but Shelby had said, “This isn’t going to be an issue for long. In fact, much sooner than I like to think about, she’ll be gone. She gave me her whole adult life, always putting me first. If I don’t give her a few years of mine, the rest of my life won’t matter a damn.”

Then it was over and time to think about what was ahead for her. Before Vanni had even uttered those words about Uncle Walt, Shelby had been thinking, I want to join the ranks of women my age, women who are my friends, both old and new, and have what they have—the relationship building, romantic and physical love, idealism and passion and even the struggles. She wanted all of it. She was due. She wanted to be whole.

She wanted a man.



Walt gave a couple of taps on Muriel’s guesthouse door, then pushed it open. Muriel had fixed up the old bunkhouse to live in while she worked on the larger house. Unlike most of the times he called on her, finding her in her work clothes and waiting for him to arrive before cleaning up, she was not only showered and changed, but had set a small table with plates and utensils and a candle in the middle. He smiled and handed her a sack of takeout from Jack’s bar, then bent to scratch behind the ears of two excited Labs, Luce and Buff. “Looks like a celebration,” he said, indicating the table.

“It is. I finished the floors upstairs. One coat of paint in the bedroom and hall and I could live there if I wanted to. And yesterday I bought a pie safe for the dining room. I found it up near Arcata at this little antique shop. It’s big—I can’t get it out of the truck bed, so I parked it in the barn. Maybe you’ll help me tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

She looked in the sack. “What is it?”

“Brisket, steamed red potatoes, green and wax beans.”

She inhaled. “Pie?”

“Of course pie.”

“Where did you tell your daughter and your niece you were going?” she asked, tilting her head and smiling at him.

“I told them I was going out for a beer,” he answered. And grinned.

“Walt,” she admonished. “Don’t you think you’re having a little too much fun with this? I bet you’re not fooling anyone. Besides, I’m not sure how I feel about being hidden like this.”

He got a startled expression on his face. “Muriel, I’m not hiding you. Not at all! And I did have a beer, while I waited for the food.”

“Then why haven’t you invited me to dinner with the family?”

“You want to come over for dinner?”

“Walt, I’m not going to let you get away with this. Remember, I know what I’m doing, I know about men. You’re not moving forward, you’re not backing off. I’m more than happy to be your good friend, as long as nothing’s wrong.”

He looked down briefly. “All right,” he said uneasily. “You caught me. I’m enjoying the hell out of this, Muriel. The riding, the dinners here with you, even when I’m helping you paint or sand or move furniture. But…I’m waiting for you to say something very Hollywood to me, like, I find romantic relationships pedestrian and beneath me. And I’m dreading it.”

She laughed at him. “What’s this? Isn’t this a relationship? And I’m enjoying it, too. Besides, that’s not what they say in Hollywood.”

“What do they say?”

“Well, it’s almost always in newsprint, right near the grocery checkout stand, and it usually sounds something like, St. Claire Caught In Sordid Affair. Or, St. Claire’s Husband Seen With Swimsuit Model. Or hooker.” She shrugged. “Or something equally gauche.” But he had such a soft expression on his hard, handsome face, it startled her eyes open wide. She put the takeout sack on the table and her hands on her hips. “Oh Jesus, you think I’m letting you come over and pester me all the time because you’re the only available man in my age group!”