Bring Me Home for Christmas

it. She wished she could learn it. If her ankle weren’t broken, she’d be out there trying to master that beautiful cast.
    This was what Denny had wanted to share with his friends, and it was worthy. This was magnificent. Rich and lush.
    After a few hours on the river, everyone dispersed. She went with Denny. She wouldn’t allow him to lift her up the stairs but she did accept his help. She was afraid that after her full morning of gazing at him, if he carried her she might just lose control and start kissing his neck.
    They took their turns in the bathroom, getting cleaned up for dinner. She insisted on showing him her method for getting down. By his expression, she could tell he went along with it grudgingly.
    Then the holiday proceeded, so different from her usual experience. Although Becca and Rich each had their own places in San Diego, they spent Thanksgiving at their parents’ house, just the four of them. Dinner at Jack’s was a gathering of friends and neighbors. The TV was turned off, the tables were pushed together and all the little decorations Chris helped to make adorned a long table. Becca not only enjoyed meeting a few couples from town, but she was, unsurprisingly, a magnet to the kids and spent a lot of time reading stories to Mel and Jack’s little ones, as well as Dana. Chris was too old to be read to, of course, but that didn’t keep him from hanging real close.
    There were twenty people, including the kids, who sat down to a delicious Thanksgiving dinner. Afterward, rather than poker and cigars, Denny and his friends, along with Jack and Preacher, indulged in several cribbage games, while the women sat around the fire and gossiped.
    “How do you normally spend the holiday, Becca?” Mel Sheridan asked her.
    “At my parents’ house. While the guys have a whole day of football, that’s when my mom and I get a start on our favorite holiday movies—It’s A Wonderful Life and some of the Bing Crosby classics like Holiday Inn. My mom loves Christmas, and so do I. We start celebrating right after Thanksgiving. This year will be so different for them. When my mom found out Rich and I would be out of town, she informed my dad that he was taking her to Cabo, where they’d golf and lounge around the beach. He’s probably recording the football games for later.” She looked at her watch. She’d have to call her mother before Rich went back to San Diego. She dreaded it.
    “We’re going to have to do the holiday classics.” Paige said. “It’s been years since I’ve watched some of those great old films. Let’s pick a time to get some of the women together for movies! It’ll get us in the Christmas spirit.”
    “I’m in,” Mel said. “Especially if we can get the guys to watch the kids. How about you, Becca?”
    “If I’m here,” she said with a shrug.
    “How long do you think you’ll stay?”
    “I’m not sure. We’ll see what the doctor says next week.”
    Mel grinned at her. “I think there’s more to this broken ankle than meets the eye.”
    “I beg your pardon, I’ll have you know I have screws in my joint!”
    “And an ex-boyfriend in your crosshairs,” Mel said.
    “Purely a coincidence. I have a boyfriend. He lives in L.A., but we’ve been exclusive for a year. But if I’m here, I’d love to watch movies with you.”
    A bit later, while Mel was gathering up her kids for home and Paige was settling hers into bed, Becca used the phone to leave another message for Doug. “Hope you had a great Thanksgiving, sweetie. We had a town gathering at the bar and, you know what? It was really fun. I’m going to head for bed now and I’ll try you again tomorrow.”
    She didn’t even wonder why he wasn’t picking up. She was relieved.
    That’s when she began to know the truth about why she came to Virgin River. To find what she’d lost with her first love.

    The cutting of the Virgin River Christmas tree was an all-day affair that involved way more spectators than actual woodsmen. First, there was the hunting for the tree—a thirty-foot fir high in the mountains. Becca watched from the truck the entire time. Then there was the cutting down. She would’ve expected that to take seconds, but it took a very long time and involved pulleys and ropes and chain saws. Next came the netting and dragging of the tree along barely visible old logging roads. Only big pickups with four-wheel-drive ventured back into the thickest part of the forest.
    Once the tree was dragged