Robyn Carr - Temptation Ridge

“You drive one in?” Jack asked.

“Hell, no,” he said indignantly. “I had to be shot down.”

Jack laughed. “Man. At least you got your twenty.”

“It wasn’t even the first time,” Luke said. “But in a moment of sheer genius, I decided it should be the last.”

“Something tells me we’ve been in some of the same places,” Jack said. “Maybe even at around the same time.”

“Saw some combat, did you?”

“Afghanistan, Somalia, Bosnia, Iraq. Twice.”

“Mogadishu,” Luke confirmed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, we left you boys in a mess. I hated that,” Jack said. “You lost a lot of brothers. I’m sorry, man.”

“It was bad,” Luke agreed. What started out as a relief mission sanctioned by the UN ended in a horrible uprising after the Marine Corps was pulled out and the army was left behind. Somalian warlord Aidid launched an attack that left eighteen U.S. Army soldiers dead and over ninety wounded in a bloody conflict. “One of these days, Jack, we’ll get drunk and talk about the battles.”

Jack reached out, grabbed Luke’s upper arm and said, “You bet. Welcome to the neighborhood, brother.”

“Now, tell me where to go for a night out that might include women, who to call if I need help with the house or cabins and what hours I can get a beer here,” Luke said.

“Been a long time since I’ve been looking for women, buddy. The coastal towns have some nice spots—try Fortuna or Eureka. There’s the Brookstone Inn in Ferndale—nice restaurant and bar. Old-town Eureka is always good. Then for something a little closer, there’s a little bar in Garberville with a jukebox.” He shrugged. “I remember seeing one or two pretty girls there. And I have just the guy for you if you need help with the remodel. A buddy of mine just moved a part of his family’s construction company down here from Oregon and he’s doing Preacher’s add-on. He helped me finish my house. He’s a helluva builder. Let me go get one of his cards.”

Jack went into the back and hadn’t been gone a minute when two women came into the bar and almost gave Luke a heart attack. A couple of pretty blondes, one in her thirties with curly golden hair and the other, much younger, with an unforgettable thick, honey-colored braid that hung down her back to her waist. The girl from the roadside; the one he saved from a muddy bath—Shelby. Both of them were wearing tight jeans and boots. The golden girl had on a loose-knit sweater, while Shelby wore the same crisp white shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled, collar open and tied at the waist. He tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help looking at them, though they hadn’t noticed him at all. His immediate thought was that he wouldn’t have to go as far as Garberville. They jumped up on bar stools just as Jack came from the back.

“Hey, baby,” he said, leaning across the bar to the older of the two women, kissing her. Ah, Luke thought, those would be the illegal jeans that keep him from fishing. What man wouldn’t give up fishing to spend more of his time with a woman like that? “Meet a new neighbor. Luke Riordan, this is Mel, my wife, and Shelby McIntyre—she has family here.”

“Pleasure,” he said to the women.

“Luke here owns those old Chapman cabins on the river and he’s thinking of renovating. He’s ex-army, so we’re gonna let him stay.”

“Welcome,” Mel said.

Shelby said nothing. She smiled at him, letting her eyelids drop a bit. He judged her to be about eighteen, just a girl. In fact, if she’d been any older, he might’ve gotten a phone number out there on the muddy road. Eureka or the Brookstone couldn’t beat this, though both these women were obviously completely off-limits—Mel was Jack’s woman and Shelby appeared to be a teenager. A very sexy teenager, he thought with a slight flush of warmth. But their appearance held promise. If two such beautiful women could be found in a little bar in Virgin River, there had to be a few more scattered around these mountains.

“Here you go,” Jack said, sliding a business card across the bar. “My buddy Paul. Right now he’s also building a house for my younger sister, Brie, and her husband next door to us. Plus one for himself and his wife.”

“My cousin,” Shelby said.

Luke lifted his eyebrows in question.

“Well, Paul’s married to my cousin Vanessa. They’re staying at my Uncle Walt’s and I’m staying with them.”

“You want a beer, Mel?” Jack asked his wife. “Shelby?”

“I’ll have a quick soda with Shelby, then I’m going home to relieve Brie of the kids so she can have dinner with Mike,” Mel said. “I just wanted to swing through and tell you where I’ll be. I’ll feed the kids and put them to bed. Will you bring us some of Preacher’s dinner when you come home later?”

“Be happy to.”

“And I’m going home to help with the horses,” Shelby said. “But I’ll have a beer first.”

Well, at least she was twenty-one, Luke found himself thinking. Unless Jack had some very relaxed age standards in this little neighborhood bar, which was entirely possible.

“I’d probably better get going—” Luke said.

“Hang around,” Jack said. “If you don’t have to go, five o’clock usually brings out the regulars. Perfect opportunity to meet your neighbors.”

Luke looked at his watch. “I guess I can hang out a while.”

Jack laughed. “Buddy, the first thing that’s gonna go is that watch.” Jack put a beer in front of Shelby, a cola in front of his wife.

Luke talked with Jack a while about the renovation of the bar while the women were occupied with their own conversation. Not ten minutes had passed when Jack said, “Excuse me, I’m going to walk my wife out,” and Luke was left at the bar with Shelby.

“I see you changed clothes,” Shelby said to him.

“Um, that was pretty necessary. The schoolmarm got me good.”

She laughed softly. “I never thanked you. For saving my blouse.”

“No thanks necessary,” he said, sipping his beer.

“I’ve seen those cabins,” Shelby said. “I like to ride along the river. They look pretty awful.”

He chuckled. “I’m not surprised to hear that. With any luck, they’re not beyond hope.”

“They were built a long time ago when people used quality materials,” she said. “I learn these things from my cousin—some of these old houses are built like brick shit—Um. Well. So, do you expect your family to join you here?” she asked him.

He grinned into his beer. And the question, so quick and to the point, surprised him. He lifted his eyes from his beer and looked at her. “No,” he said. “I have a mother and brothers scattered around.”

“No wife?” she asked, one corner of her mouth tilting upward along with the slight lift of one pretty brow.

“No wife,” he said.

“Aw. Too bad,” she said.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me, Shelby. I happen to like it this way.”

“Solitary kind of guy, are you?”

“No. Just an unmarried kind of guy.” He knew this was his cue to ask her if she was attached to someone special, but it was irrelevant. He wasn’t going there. And while he knew getting to know her better probably wasn’t wise, he put an elbow on the bar, leaned his head on his hand, met her eyes and said, “Just visiting, huh?”

She took a drink of her beer, nodding.

“How long are you in town for?”

“That’s still kind of up in the air,” she said. Jack was back behind the bar and Shelby put down her glass, still half-full, and a couple of dollars on the bar. “I’d better go take care of those horses. Thanks, Jack.”

Jack turned toward her. “Shelby, why don’t you just ask for half a beer?” he said.