One
Walt Booth was feeling lonely. He’d been widowed over five years ago when his kids were twenty-six and fourteen. Now that he was sixty-two, the kids were on their own. Vanessa was married to Paul and they lived on the property on the other side of the stable, and Tom had nearly completed his first year at West Point. Walt’s niece, Shelby, had been staying with him, but during the February freeze she had left to vacation in Maui before pursuing her education in San Francisco.
But that only scratched the surface. He’d recently begun a relationship with his neighbor, a beautiful, vivacious, mischievous movie star just a few years younger than he was. Muriel St. Claire. Their liaison was just getting interesting, just heating up, when she was lured back to Hollywood to make another film. He was left with her two Labrador retrievers and her two horses. He’d had one phone call since she’d departed for L.A. via private jet, a call in which he had heard the background noise of a party. There was music, chatter, laughter, the clinking of glasses, and Muriel sounded on top of the world.
The truth of the matter was, he’d gone and fallen in love with her. She had trapped him by being nothing like his perception of a movie star. She’d come to Virgin River almost a year ago, moved into an old farmhouse with her animals and restored it, almost entirely by herself. He’d never seen her in anything but slacks, usually jeans and boots, often painter’s overalls. She was a crackerjack horsewoman, an expert shot and was training her own bird dogs for hunting waterfowl. Earthy. Basic. Yet her wit was sophisticated and her beauty natural and unforgettable. And right now, while he sat by the window in his great room, scratching her dog behind the ear, she was making a movie with Jack Nicholson. The truth? He wondered if she’d come back.
His doorbell rang and he hefted himself up to answer it. Two weeks ago he’d felt like a sixteen-year-old boy, looking forward to seeing Muriel every day. Today he felt old and short on time.
He opened the door to Luke Riordan and frowned. This was just about the last person he’d like to see right now. Luke and Shelby had had a romance that didn’t work out, which Walt suspected was her reason for leaving.
“Morning, General,” Luke said with a slight nod. “Got a minute?”
“I guess,” he said, standing back from the door. “Coffee?”
“No thanks, sir,” Luke said, stepping into the house. “It’s just that— Well, I owe you an apology.”
“That so?” Walt asked. He turned and walked back into the great room. The dogs spied Luke and immediately put the rush on him. Luce, the chocolate Lab, sat in front of him politely, but her tail wagged so violently it sent her whole body into a quiver, while Buff, less than a year old, lost all control and just barreled into him, jumping up and head butting for attention. “Buff! Down!” Walt admonished. It didn’t do much good. The yellow Lab was pretty much out of control where visitors were concerned.
“Whoa,” Luke laughed, grabbing the Lab behind the ears and sitting him down. “Got yourself some company here?”
“These are Muriel’s dogs. She’s out of town and I’m taking care of them.”
“Out of town?” Luke asked, straightening.
Walt sat in his chair and clicked the dogs back to his side by snapping his fingers. He didn’t volunteer any more information about Muriel’s whereabouts. With a Lab on each side of him, he indicated the chair facing his. “Take a seat, Riordan. I’m anxious to hear about this apology.”
Luke took his seat uneasily. “General Booth, sir, I’m the reason Shelby left a little over two weeks ago. I apologize, sir. She had every reason to think her future wasn’t secure with me and she left.”
Walt settled back. Shelby was twenty-five to Luke’s thirty-eight and Walt had been concerned that his niece’s involvement with this tough-edged Blackhawk pilot might end with her being hurt. “How does that not surprise me?” Walt said churlishly.
“I let her go, sir. I thought she might be better off. I hated to think she’d bet everything on someone like me.”
Walt smirked. He couldn’t have put it better himself. “I should’ve just shot you,” he said. “I gave it serious thought.”
Luke couldn’t suppress a huff of silent laughter. “I figured you did. Sir.” Luke hadn’t been out of the army quite long enough to relax about that rank thing. The general was a general till he died and was accorded appropriate respect, even when he acted like a son of a bitch and threatened Luke’s life.
“You should be apologizing to her, not me,” Walt said.
“I’ve taken care of that, sir. Unbelievably, I’m forgiven.”
“You talked to her?”
“Yes, sir. She came back. She was pissed as hell, but I threw myself on her mercy and she’s given me another chance. I plan to do better this time.”
Walt’s eyes had grown wide and his bushy black eyebrows shot up high. “She’s back?”
“Yes, sir. She said to tell you she’d be right over. She had something to take care of and I wanted a word with you first.”
“To apologize,” Walt groused. “I’d like to see my niece, if you don’t mind.”
“She’ll be here pretty soon. But there’s another thing. I’d like your permission to ask Shelby to be my wife.”
Walt ground his teeth. “You’re really pressing your luck.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half.” Luke chuckled before he could stop himself. “Almost thirty-nine years old and I’m buying into the whole program. It’s not even one of her conditions—it’s one of mine. General Booth, she’s everything to me. I can’t live without her. I thought I could and I tried, but it’s too late for me. I’m in love with Shelby. I’m going to be in love with her for the rest of my life.”