Virgin River Christmas Collection: A Virgin River Christmas ; Under the Christmas Tree ; Bring Me Home for Christmas ; My Kind of Christmas by Robyn Carr

Author:Robyn Carr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2018-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Becca wondered if it was weird that a little time with a seven-year-old put her right, but it did. And before they were done with homework, Dana was up from her nap and sat at the big dining table for a little while to color; Becca colored with her. For some of the time Paige sat on the sofa in the great room with a big pile of freshly laundered kids’ clothes that she folded and stacked in the basket to be carried upstairs to their bedrooms.

All this time, Denny was helping out behind the bar. When the folding and coloring and homework were done, Dana and Chris moved to the kitchen. Paige and John had worked all afternoon on dinner; now it was down to serving. Chris would have his dinner at the kitchen work island, while Dana had hers in the high chair. “When you run a restaurant, it’s hard to sit down together as a family,” Paige told Becca. “But we manage sometimes. When Denny helps serve and bus, the kids and I get a table in the bar, usually with Jack’s wife and kids. And every Sunday is reserved for a family meal at our own table—we have our family meal at two in the afternoon and Jack and his family have theirs at three-thirty. It’s harder for the Sheridans—Mel being a midwife and all. We have to be flexible.”

“It must be a challenge sometimes,” Becca said.

“Somehow it works,” she said, shaking her head and laughing.

Becca left the Middleton’s residence and went into the bar as the dinner hour approached. The bar was starting to fill up with hunters and locals. She found a table and no sooner had she gotten settled than her brother and his friends came in. They were exuberant; they had dead ducks in the back of the truck. Becca laughed as she secretly measured the merits of broken bones.

Denny was busy behind the bar, but only for a few minutes after his pals returned from hunting. He made sure his party was served, then sat with them. Since Becca hadn’t had a pain pill since morning, she thought a beer might serve her just as well, so she asked for a mug and poured one from the pitcher Denny brought.

The hunting party of Marines relaxed with their beer and reminisced about Iraq, about mutual friends, about what they’d been doing for the past few years, and she enjoyed it thoroughly. Men, she knew, weren’t too good about keeping in touch with each other. There were the occasional emails or phone calls, but it took a gathering like this to really put them in touch again. And these were men who had served in a war together, who’d kept each other’s backs, who had stood watch while their buddies slept on the desert floor in a faraway land.

They poked and jabbed at each other, made fun, and no one escaped. There were a few toasts to comrades past and

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