“Well…Yeah…I did that part.…” And he was thinking, was there a felony in there somewhere? Because all through the night the only thing he had tried to do was show her how much she could be loved. And it was wonderful; she was wonderful. Spontaneous and aroused and ultimately quite satisfied. And happy. He’d heard her sigh, he’d heard her laugh. There was absolutely no crying.

“Didn’t it occur to you that after her heart had been broken, that was probably not a great idea?”

He got a little angry himself. He leaned his hands on the table, got a little bit in her face and said, “No. I thought it was a terrific idea, and so did she. I wanted to be good to her and I was. I treated her with absolute respect, and she consented one hundred percent. Now, give me her number. I need to talk to her as soon as possible.”

“She said absolutely no.”

“What? No, I have to get in touch with her. Vanni, this isn’t funny.”

“No, it’s not. I just don’t know what went through your mind.”

“Wait a minute here, I didn’t talk her into anything! I was a perfect gentleman, I swear to God!”

“Don’t you know anything about women?” she asked him.

“Apparently not!” he answered hotly.

“She’s just spent five years with a guy who wouldn’t come through. What do you suppose she thinks you’re going to do after one night?”

“She could give me a frickin’ chance!”

Vanni’s mouth was set in a firm line. “She said absolutely no.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Vanni, this is cruel and unusual. Listen, I have feelings for her. Really.”

“After one night?” she asked, a definite superior tone to her voice.

“Before the night,” he said. “Will you ask her to call me? Please?”

“You knew her for what? Ten minutes?”

“Shit,” he said. “Okay, it was fast. Okay? I admit it. But by the time we’d spent a night together it seemed…” It seemed as if he’d been with her for years! Jesus, his voice was quivering. He was losing his mind. He should be saying, fine—if that’s the way she wants it, fine. But in his head, his heart, his gut, he was feeling desperate. Driven. He was not letting this woman get away.

His good sense said give it up. She’s a nutcase. A whole night of magnificent love, intimate talk, something deep and meaningful going on and she splits? Like that? Never wanting to hear from you again? Give it up. Let it go. Move on. She’s probably crazy. Joe had had one or two crazy women for excruciating but short duration, and he didn’t want another one.

But he said, “Vanni, I have to talk to her. I won’t do to her whatever he did to her. I won’t make any promises I can’t keep and I never did or said anything that wasn’t a hundred percent sincere.”

“Ha,” she said.

“Oh fuck,” he answered. “Where is your husband?”

“It won’t do you any good,” she said. “He’s under orders.”

“Where is he?”

She inclined her head toward the stable.

He left his coffee on the table and made fast tracks for the stable. Hadn’t they all just had a perfectly nice wedding and reunion? He had no idea what had gone wrong. It had been the luckiest chance meeting of his life—that beautiful, sexy, soft and sweet Nikki had been there. And she had opened herself up to him in ways that led him to believe she found it to be her luckiest chance meeting as well. In his mind everything had gone right and could reasonably lead to many days, weeks, months, years of more nice stuff. He knew he had to invest the time before he could get a clear picture of the future—he’d been as burned as Nikki had—but you don’t bolt when things are going right. And he looked forward to nothing so much as investing the time. With her.

He found Paul and Tom brushing down horses in the stable. He stopped short and took a few deep breaths. “Hey, boys,” he said. “Tom, you mind? Can I have a minute with Paul? I’ll take your brush if you want.”

Tom looked at him grimly, though there might’ve been a little sparkle in his eye. “I heard you did the maid of honor.”

“You know,” Joe said somewhat irritably, “I was busy keeping private things private. I thought she might’ve appreciated that.”

Tommy grinned. “I’d congratulate you, man, but I think you blew it.”

“So I’m hearing. But if you’d been there…”

“Kinky,” Tom said. “Sure I can’t stay? You could think of it as part of my education.”

“Take off,” Paul said.

“Killjoy,” he said, passing Joe the brush and leaving the stable.

“You gotta help me, man,” Joe said to Paul. “I didn’t do anything to her. I mean, I only did to her what she totally…She should not have left in tears. I swear to God.”

“Yeah? Yet, she did. She was all shook up. Vanni was worried about her driving like that—all messed up.”

“No, you have to understand. I—” He stopped. He didn’t like the desperate sound of his own voice. He was not going to do this—he was not going to tell Paul that he held her and loved her all night long and that he was gentle and she was sweet. That they had also been a little wild—beautifully wild. That their bodies had meshed perfectly and their words just as well. That in addition to sex too hot to imagine, there had been tender words, too soft and lovely to explain. He couldn’t tell a guy that. It was beyond him.

“Paul, goddammit, you have to help me with this. I have to get in touch with her.”

“She says she doesn’t want to hear from you.”

“I have to hear that from her. Jesus, I don’t even know her last name.”

Paul stopped brushing and looked at Joe over the rear end of a horse. “I don’t think I’d admit that again.” He groaned. “Jesus, Joe. You screwed the maid of honor without even getting her name?”

Joe lost it. He dropped the brush, grabbed Paul by the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the stable wall with a huge bang. Paul could easily have hammered him if he wasn’t so completely shocked. “I didn’t do that,” Joe said in a fierce, angry whisper. “I didn’t screw anyone! I made excellent love to her and she made incredible love right back to me and it was almost too good to believe. I used six of your condoms and I—” He stopped. He let go of Paul and stepped back. “This isn’t happening to me,” he said.

“I think you might be a little out of control,” Paul observed.

“Aw, come on! Help me out here!”

“Seriously, I don’t think I’d admit again that you don’t even know her last name.”

“What the fuck is it, you jerk!”

“Jorgensen, but you didn’t hear it from me. Okay? I’d like to have sex again in my life.”

“Sex. Sex. It’s all about sex.” Joe shook his head.

“Wasn’t it?” Paul asked.

“Only about half the time,” Joe said. “Paul, will you listen to me a second? It was perfect—the kind of perfect that just doesn’t come along very often. You hear me? It was wonderful. It wasn’t just sex, but don’t get me wrong…”

“You’re going down the wrong road again, buddy. Women don’t want to hear about how great they were in bed.”

“Now you’re an expert? Married twelve hours and you know everything?” He hung his head. “I have to find her, man. She gets two chances—she has to tell me twice that it’s nothing. Twice. Then I go away quietly. I’m no stalker. But man…”

“Whew. You got it bad,” Paul said. “She is way under your skin.”

“Just tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about, Paul. You of all people.”

Paul was quiet for a minute. “Unfortunately, I read you.”

“Help me out here. She’s…Don’t make me say anything more, please. It’s private, okay? Help me out.”

“Here’s what I’d do. Write her a letter,” Paul said. “I’ll ask Vanni to send it to her. But I can’t guarantee anything,” he added.

“You are so frickin’ whipped.”

“Yeah? What are you right now?”

“Out of my head, that’s what.”

Paul lifted two eyebrows. “Six?”

“Aw, bite me!”

Before leaving Virgin River, Joe sat in the fifth wheel he’d borrowed and wrote a letter on a lined yellow pad, a letter in which every word embarrassed him. But he forced himself. He went through roughly fifty drafts to come up with one he could live with, and he still found it horribly inadequate.

Nikki—

I had a wonderful weekend with you. You left too soon and broke my heart. I want to talk to you again, see you again, and according to Vanni, you don’t want to be contacted by me. I don’t know what went wrong. For me, everything went right, and I thought it went right for you, too. I know you’re still recovering from a bad breakup, but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with you and me. Call me. Tell Vanni to give me your number so I can call you. I hope I didn’t do or say anything to hurt you, to make you feel bad, but if I did, at least give me a chance to apologize. Nikki, it was one of the nicest weekends of my life. Come on, baby. I’m dying here.

Love,

Joe.

He gave the letter to Paul because he didn’t trust Vanni just yet. However, when he took Vanessa into his arms to give her a kiss goodbye he said, “You have to believe me. I didn’t hurt her. I want to hear from her. Please, tell her that.”

“I’ll tell her. But I don’t know that it’ll change anything.”

“Just tell her. Please.”

Sixteen

T om had his gear packed by Sunday afternoon. He took Brenda out for a long ride and she held it together real well. She stayed for dinner with the general, Vanni and Paul. His dad was taking him to the bus at five in the morning. He drove Brenda back to her house at about 8:00 p.m., but he didn’t get home until 4:00 a.m. He found his dad was up.

“You didn’t keep Brenda out all this time, did you, son?”

“No, Dad. We were at her house. Her parents were home.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah, she’ll be okay. You haven’t been up all night, have you?”

“On and off.”

“I hope you weren’t worried,” Tom said.

“Not at all, son. I knew you’d be with your girl to the last minute. Unfortunately for you, there’s no time to sleep.”

“I’m not interested in sleep.”

“You will be.” He draped an arm around his son’s shoulder, gave a squeeze and said, “It’s what I would’ve done, too. She’s a wonderful girl.”

“She is a wonderful girl,” Tom agreed, a sadness at leaving her in his voice.

“Let’s get you some breakfast. Maybe a shower. Then we’ll take off.”

“Vanni and Paul getting up?”

“Oh, I’m sure. Come on, kid.”

Walt scrambled eggs and fried bacon and the sounds from the kitchen brought the others. An hour later they all stood out on the front porch and said goodbye. Tom kissed his sister and little Mattie. While his dad waited in the car, he embraced Paul. “Watch out for my dad, Paul,” Tom said. “He likes to act like this is no big deal. Be sure he’s handling me being gone okay.”

“I’ll watch,” Paul said. “I’ll take care of your family, boy. You just knock ’em dead in boot camp.”

“I’ll do my best.”