A Virgin River Novel
Robyn Carr is a RITA® Award-winning, #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than forty novels, including the critically acclaimed Virgin River series. Robyn and her husband live in Las Vegas, Nevada. You can visit Robyn Carr’s website at www.RobynCarr.com.
Excerpt from book:
Marcie Sullivan drove into the small town, her sixth small mountain town of the day, and found herself face-to-face with a Christmas-tree trimming. The assembled staff didn't look big enough for the jobthe tree was enormous.
She pulled up beside a large cabin with a wide porch, parked her Volkswagen and got out. There were three women at work on a Christmas fir that stood about thirty feet. One was about Marcie's age, with soft brown hair and she held an open box, perhaps containing ornaments. One woman was old, with springy white hair and black-framed glasses, who pointed upward, as if someone had put her in charge, and the third was a beautiful blonde at the top of a tall, A-frame ladder.
The tree stood between the cabin and an old boarded-up church with two tall steeples and one stained-glass window still intacta church that must have once been a beautiful structure.
While Marcie watched the trimming, a man came out onto the cabin's porch, stopped, looked up and cursed, then took long strides to the base of the ladder. "Don't move. Don't breathe," he said in a low, commanding voice. He took the rungs every other one, climbing quickly until he reached the blonde. Then he slipped an arm around her, somewhere above what Marcie realized must be a little pregnant bulge and beneath her breasts and said, "Down. Slowly."
"Jack!" she scolded. "Leave me alone!"
"If I have to, I'll carry you down. Back down the ladder, slowly. Now."
"Oh for God's"
"Now," he said evenly, fiercely.
She began to descend, one rung at a time between his big, sturdy feet, while he held her safe against him. When they got to the bottom, she put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. "I knew exactly what I was doing!"
"Where is your brain? What if you fell from that height?"
"It's an excellent ladder! I wasn't going to fall!"
"You're psychic, too?You can argue all you want, I'm not letting you that high up a ladder in your condition," he said, his hands also on his hips. "I'll stand guard over you if I have to." Then he looked over his shoulder at the other two women.
"I told her I thought you wouldn't like that," the brown-haired one said with a helpless shrug.
He glared at the white-haired woman. "I don't get into domestic things. That's your problem, not mine," she said, pushing her big glasses up on her nose.
And Marcie became homesick. So homesick. It had only been a few weeks that she'd been driving around this area, but she missed all the family squabbles, the tiresome complications. She missed her girlfriends, her job. She longed for her bossy older sister's interference, her goofy younger brother and whatever current girlfriend was shadowing him. She missed her late husband's large, fun, passionate family.
She hadn't made it home for Thanksgivingshe'd been afraid to go for even a day or two, afraid she'd never pry herself out of Erin's grip a second time. Home was Chico, California, just a few hours away, but no onenot her brother and sister, not Bobby's familythought what she was doing a good idea. So, she'd been calling, lying and saying she had tips about Ian and was close to finding him. Every time she called, at least
"This book is an utter delight."
-RT Book Reviews on Moonlight Road