My Kind of Christmas. Робин Карр

was early, the place was already a circus. The big flatbed with an enormous tree strapped to it blocked the street and mounted on another truck was a giant winch. The ground had been plowed free of snow right between the bar and the church, back off the road a bit in the area where, in milder weather, there were picnic tables. That’s where the tree would stand. The sound of a hydraulic post digger assaulted the morning air as meanly as a jackhammer, and a lot of people stood around watching while the tree was being attached to the lift. Cables trailed off the tree—likely to be anchored to stakes in the ground to steady it.

      It was so big.

      Someone pressed a cup of coffee into her hands and she turned to see Mike V, Brie’s husband, her uncle Mike. She had forgotten her desire for caffeine. “Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek.

      “How’s that little cabin working out?” he asked.

      “It’s perfect. I’m going to get some candles from the bar—I sat on the porch last night and just watched the snow. If I’d had some candles…”

      “I’m sure that can be arranged, chica,” he said, draping an arm around her shoulders.

      As they stood together in the street, watching, chains were tightened, the motor on the lift was pumping away and more and more people who had been forced to park down the street were walking toward the tree-raising. Jack and General Booth stood near Paul Haggerty, talking and pointing and gesturing, but Paul seemed to completely ignore them as he directed his team.

      It took long enough that Angie’s coffee was gone by the time the tree was finally lifted off the bed of the truck. Four men holding four cables maneuvered the airborne tree so that the trunk slipped into the hole that had been dug right in the ground. Then the cables were pulled tight, straightening the tree. There was a loud, collective “Ahh” in the crowd of people gathered around to watch. There was a bit of muffled applause thanks to the gloves and mittens worn by most of the spectators.

      Finally Jack and the general had major roles—they were standing across the street from the tree to judge the straightness of it before the cables were secured to the ground. They were gesturing right, then left, then right....

      And Angie saw him. He was standing on the porch of the bar, leaning a shoulder against a post. He was most definitely watching her. When their eyes met he did that smile thing again—half his mouth lifted. His eyes got just a little bit sleepy, but the glittering green was still overwhelming. She wanted a close-up of those eyes.

      Real close.

      Patrick lifted a coffee cup to his lips, but he never took his eyes off her, peering at her over the rim of the cup.

      “You okay, chica?” Mike asked.

      “That guy,” she said, just taking him in. “Do you know him?”

      Mike followed her eyes. “Patrick? I know his brothers. I’ve only met him once or twice.”

      “How long has he lived around here?”

      “Just visiting, I hear. You okay?”

      “He’s staring at me,” she said in a low voice, trying not to move her lips.

      Mike cleared his throat. “Um, listen, if he’s making you uncomfortable, I could have a word with him.”

      She grinned at Mike. “He’s making me uncomfortable all right, but not exactly in a bad way. Don’t say anything, all right? Don’t make him stop. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me that way before.”

      Mike turned Angie toward him. His black eyes bore into her with intensity. “Ange, don’t play with fire. I don’t know much about Patrick except that he has some difficult situation going with the military. The Navy just gave him more leave to sit in Virgin River than they typically grant, which usually indicates a problem of some kind. You should at least talk to Jack before you do anything young and foolish.”

      She laughed at him, amused. “Wow, doesn’t that sound fun, a chat with Uncle Jack about an interesting guy. Now I was kind of young at the time, but if I remember correctly Uncle Jack thought you were a bad idea for Aunt Brie. Do I have that right?”

      Mike pursed his lips as he pondered this. “We were both older than you, for one thing. We had been through some real major crises, for another, which left Jack feeling a little on the protective side. And we were careful to take it slow—know what I’m saying? I don’t know any details but I hear Patrick has had some issues—real problems. Hear me?”

      “Absolutely,” she said. “Fortunately, I haven’t been through any crises or had any problems....”

      “Oh, man,” Mike said. “Now you’re scaring me.”

      She patted his arm. “I’ll be just fine, Uncle Mike. I know it’s hard for everyone to accept this, but I’m not a little girl anymore. I can handle this.” She turned to look again at Patrick but he wasn’t there. “Crap,” she muttered. “I hope you didn’t scare him away. I wanted to talk to him.”

      “I was on the verge of suggesting you don’t talk to him.”

      “Yeah, I know,” she said. “I think I need a refill on the coffee. Thanks. By the way, where is Brie?”

      “I think she’s in the bar with Ness, but, Ange—”

      “I’ll catch up with you in a while. Thanks for the coffee.” She glanced at the tree and gave it a nod. “You might want to tell Jack it’s leaning west.”

      * * *

      Angie scored in the bar. Brie was there with little Ness, sitting at a table with Mel and Emma, chatting it up while the little girls made an attempt at coloring. There were only a few people in the bar since the tree-raising was occupying almost everyone in town. She noticed Patrick sitting at the far end of the bar on the other side of the room, all alone, far away from her aunts.

      “Ah, my favorite aunts,” she said. She leaned down to give each of them a kiss on the cheek, telling them the cabin was awesome. She immediately excused herself to go to the bar for more coffee. They might’ve expected her back at their table after she’d gone behind the bar to serve herself. Instead, she paused, took a deep breath and hopped up on a stool right next to Patrick. She imagined that Brie and Mel wouldn’t know how much courage she’d needed to do that. They knew she wasn’t particularly shy, but they couldn’t possibly know how little experience she had with men, especially a man like this—handsome, sexy and out of her age range by at least a few years.

      “Hi,” she said. “I’m Angie LaCroix.” She put out a hand.

      He stared at the hand for a moment, then lifted his gaze to her eyes. And, oh, sweet baby Jesus, he was beautiful. He took her hand in his much larger one. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

      Just go for it, she thought. Why not? “I thought we should meet, since you look at me like you’re the big bad wolf. And you are…?”

      He couldn’t seem to suppress a short laugh. “I bet you know exactly who I am.”

      “Ah, yes, Patrick Riordan, the youngest brother of a clan anchored here. Do I have that right?”

      “More or less. I have a couple of brothers here and another couple not too far away.”

      “Right. So you’re here visiting family?”

      “Not exactly. I’m here because one of my brothers has a vacation cabin here and I had some time on my hands. Since the lot of them are planning a Christmas gathering in San Diego, there won’t be a crowd of Riordans here for the holiday. That suits me fine. I wanted a quiet place to hang out for a while. I wasn’t looking for a family reunion, but it’s always good to see a brother or two. Just not too much of them.”

      She looked perplexed. “If you want to avoid them, why would you come to their little town?”

      “It’s complicated. The Riordans are extremely nosy and opinionated. They gather. They swarm. If I hadn’t