Brie jumped off her stool. “I’ll take you, Mel,” she said.

And then Jack noticed another thing. A lot had been happening around here, he guessed. While Mel went out the door with David, Brie took a slight detour, finding Mike, who was in a conversation with Paige across the room. She reached for his hand and, holding it, said something to him. Something that made him smile. He leaned toward her and put a peck on her cheek, gave her upper arm a brief squeeze and out the door she went.

That might not be a good thing, Jack thought. Brie didn’t know Mike the way he did.

Once the guest of honor was gone, the bar emptied of partiers. Paige had gone to settle her son into bed in the room upstairs, leaving the three men in the bar alone. Jack got down three glasses. He poured Preacher a shot of his favored whiskey while he chose a single malt scotch for himself. “Mike?” he asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“How were things while we were gone?” Jack asked Mike as he poured.

Mike shrugged. “Everything seemed fine,” he answered. “Preach?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” the big man said. “Far as I know. Fine. The boy looks good, Jack. The Corps doesn’t seem to have beat him into mush.”

“I think he takes to it a little,” Jack said.

“No doubt,” Preacher said. He threw back his drink. “Can you boys lock up behind yourselves?”

“Sure thing,” Jack said.

Preacher went through the kitchen to his quarters and Jack tipped the bottle again, giving himself and Mike a splash. “I didn’t plan this,” Jack said. “But since it’s you and me—tell me about Brie.”

“Tell you what, Jack?”

“When she was leaving… It looked like there was something….”

“Spit it out.”

“You and Brie?”

“What?”

Jack took a breath, not happily. “Are you with my sister?”

Mike had a swallow of his whiskey. “I’m taking a day off tomorrow—taking her down the Pacific Coast Highway through Mendocino to look for whales, see the galleries, maybe have a little lunch.”

“Why?”

“She said she’d like to do that while she’s here.”

“All right, but you know what I’m getting at—”

“I think you’d better tell me, so I don’t misunderstand.”

“I’d like to know what your intentions are toward my sister.”

“You really think you have the right to do that? To ask that question?” Mike asked him.

“Just tell me what was going on between the two of you while I was gone.”

“Jack, you’d better loosen your grip a little. Brie’s a grown woman. From where I stand, we’re good friends. If you want to know how she sees it, I think she’s the one you have to ask. But I don’t recommend it—she might be offended. Despite everything, she tends to think of herself as a grown-up.”

“It’s no secret to you—she’s had a real bad year.”

“It’s no secret,” Mike agreed.

“You’re making this really tough, man…”

“No, I think you are. You spent some time with her tonight. Did it look to you like anything is wrong? Like she’s upset or anything? Because I think everything is fine and you worry too much.”

“I worry, yeah. I worry that maybe she’ll look to you for some comfort. For something to help her get through. And that you’ll take advantage of that.”

“And…?” Mike prompted, lifting his glass but not drinking.

“And maybe work a little of your Latin magic on her and walk away.” Jack drank his whiskey. “I don’t want you to do that to her.”

Mike put down his glass on the bar without emptying it. “I would never hurt Brie. And it has nothing to do with whose sister she is. Good night, Jack.” He left the bar.

Mike had to do a memory check, remember how he felt about his own sisters, try to get it straight in his head that some of this behavior was beyond Jack’s control. If Jack had looked at one of his younger sisters the way Mike was probably looking at Brie, he might have gotten his back up. Big brothers like me and Jack, we can get proprietary. It wasn’t right, but it was there.

It pissed Mike off. But more than that, it worried him. He didn’t really think he had much of a chance with Brie for a lot of reasons, but he didn’t want one of those reasons to be his best friend.

He wished he’d finished that whiskey.

It was a long time before Mike was able to sleep, even though he hadn’t slept much the previous two nights. He kept wishing Jack and Mel had stayed away a little longer. He’d lain beside her for two wonderful nights. She’d slept right up against him. Platonically, but it had been luxurious. In her sleep she would move closer, snuggle up against him, let him cradle her in the safety of his arms. Trusting him. Believing in him. Her scent still lingered in his mind, real enough so that every once in a while he would catch a whiff so memorable it was almost as though he could reach out and touch her.

But he was alone tonight. And when sleep finally did come, it was restless and fraught with dreams, the kind he hadn’t had in a long time.

He saw their bodies as if from above—her pale, ivory skin against his tan Mexican hide, his large hands pressed against her perfect white bottom, holding her tight. Close. Although he watched from above, he could feel every sensation—the light touch of her fingers threading through his black hair, her lips on his neck, his chest, his shoulder. He tasted her skin, crumbled handfuls of her soft honey hair against his face. He was inside her, her knees raised and her pelvis tilted to bring him deeper, and he rocked with her in a gentle but intense pace. Her sighs filled the room; he whispered love words in her ear, encouraging her, telling her how much he wanted to please her.

He saw her small hands running up and down his back, his shoulders broad once again, restored. And as he told her he loved her, adored her, could never have a life if she was not part of it, she returned his words of love in Spanish. “Estas en mi corazón.” You are my heart. “Te quiero.” I want you. “Te quiero mucho, Miguel.” I want you so much Miguel…Mike.

He heard her cries, felt her close around him with a hot, tight power so awesome his whole body shuddered convulsively. As she called out his name again and again, he exploded into a climax too grand, more fabulous than he remembered from his earlier life.

He woke suddenly, panting, his heart hammering, sweat drenching him so that the sheet clung. Alone. But not alone; she’d been with him, beneath him in that nocturnal fantasy turned bliss. And he thought, Oh God! I’m not dead after all!

His immediate next thought was that he was so grateful that hadn’t happened to him while he slept with her at the cabin. It would have scared her to death.

Brie rose extra early; three people jockeying around one shower had its challenges. By the time she was toweling off, she could hear Mel and Jack in their bedroom, talking softly in response to the baby’s gurgles and giggles. While she was in the loft dressing, the shower turned on again and again—Mel and Jack getting up for the day. David was back in his bed for an early-morning catnap when she met Jack at the coffeepot. Brie already had a steaming cup in her hand.

Jack looked her up and down, taking in the skirt, blouse and vest—not her usual country attire. She was dressed for a date. It ate at his gut. He slowly poured a cup of coffee. “Mike mentioned he was taking you over to Mendocino,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “We’re going to be tourists for a day.”

“Listen, Brie, there’s something you should know about Mike. He’s been married twice.”

“I know,” she said.

Mel migrated into the kitchen in time for that last exchange. She plucked a cup off the counter, lifted the coffeepot and glared at her husband with a deep sigh. Jack completely ignored her.

“He’s known for… Well, for being on the move a lot. Where women are concerned.”

“I know that, too,” she said.

Jack put down his cup. “Listen to me. I’ve known the man forever. He has a reputation with the women.”

“Oh?” She laughed. “Has he been hustling the good women of Virgin River and breaking their hearts?”

Jack scowled at his sister. “He’s been on hiatus healing up. He’s healed now.”

“Jack, stay out of this,” Mel warned.

Brie just laughed at her brother. “Relax, Jack. I’m fine with Mike. He’s been a good friend. We’ve talked a lot since June. We even met for lunch a few times. He’s been very supportive through some of this mess I’ve been through.”

The look on Jack’s face was one of pure shock and it appeared as though the air was briefly sucked out of him. “What?” he asked.

“He called to see if I was doing all right, we talked, we talked some more, he drove down to the city to get me out of the house for an afternoon, and believe me—it made a difference. We have some things in common, you know. We’re both victims of violent crimes.”

“And no one told me this?” he asked, clearly stricken. Betrayed.

“There were things about what I’ve been going through that Mike understood. That it would be hard for anyone else to understand,” Brie said.

“Why would no one tell me about this? He’s my friend. You’re my sister.”

She shrugged. “Maybe no one wanted to deal with one of your outbursts.”

“Dad knew?” he asked, disbelieving.

“Jack!” Mel warned again. “Leave this alone!”

“Of course Dad knew,” Brie said. “I wouldn’t leave the house without telling him exactly where I was going. And God knows, I don’t answer the phone!”

“Brie, listen, I’d trust the man with my life, but not necessarily with my sister,” he said earnestly, desperately.

“You wouldn’t trust the pope with your sister,” she said. “What do you suggest, huh? If it weren’t for Mike, I’d still be lying on the couch, watching the soaps, scared to go out of the house in the middle of the day!”

“I told you if you needed anything, anything at all…”

“That my big brother would come racing down to Sacramento to rescue me,” Brie shot back. “What makes you think I knew what I needed? I’m pretty grateful Mike had a clue!”

Mel wandered onto the porch with her coffee cup and stood there, not entirely grateful she could hear the argument going on inside. In five minutes they’d have the baby awake. And in thirty minutes or less, she was going to kill Jack.

“He has a knack for that,” Jack blustered. “He seems to know exactly what it is a woman’s looking for.”

“Looking for? You jackass, I’m not looking for anything! I’m trying to get on with my life!”

“Great, that’s great, but if you’d at least talk to me about the ways you’re considering doing that—”

“I know you’ve been to war with him a couple of times and hunting with him a bunch of times, but what do you think you know about Mike that I can’t figure out in a few months?” Brie asked rather too loudly. “And how the hell is he any different around women than you were for about twenty years?”

Mel took a sip of her coffee and tried, desperately, to remind herself that siblings fought. She and Joey hadn’t had a good knock-down-drag-out since Mel’s first husband had been killed, but growing up, becoming adults, hadn’t exactly put a total end to all disagreements.

“I was never married!” Jack fired back.

“Probably through no wisdom of your own!” Brie retorted loudly.