Sunrise Point

the things he liked about Nora were her natural, unaffected beauty, her grit and determination, her kindness, her gratitude, her humor. He even liked her kids. He hadn’t wanted to take on someone else’s kids, but he liked them. A lot.

Chapter Eleven
    Maxie sat in the living room, feet propped up in her recliner, TV on. She knew what Tom was doing—either sitting on the porch or pacing outside, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Even though he’d been gone for the past several years, she knew the boy inside and out. He was a plotter. A planner. And sometimes he got a little over the moon in his plans.
    Tom didn’t seem to really lament his absence of a mom and dad. That sort of thing didn’t stand out that much in a place like Virgin River where extended families abounded. In a place with large family businesses like farms, vineyards, ranches and orchards, it was fairly common for the grandparents, aunts and uncles to be included in the day-to-day equation, all often present at the same dinner table. And it was also typical for small-town boys to lust after a bigger, more exciting world.
    “When I grow up, I’m going to see every country in the world,” Tom used to say when he was young. “I’m not going to spend my whole life on one small piece of land. I want to see things, do exciting things.” Thus college and the Marine Corps, Maxie assumed. Escape to a larger world. Excitement—in spades.
    She never tried to convince him of the virtues of the land. But after trying a few different majors in college, Tom had finally gotten his degree in agriculture. After the Marines, he came back to the orchard. She hadn’t asked him to, but she had said that if he had no interest in the apple business, she’d sell it in a few years—she wasn’t going to keep picking apples into her eighties, but she’d be more than thrilled to live in her house, on her land.
    Maxie knew that deep down Tom found comfort in the beauty of simplicity, nature, wholesome living. She also knew the fastest way to scare him off the orchard was to try to sell it to him. Better he should carry lots of expensive luggage up the stairs to the guest room and give a baby a bottle. That would do more to shape him.
    He’d come around. She hoped.
    The screen door slammed and he walked into the living room. She patted herself on the back for her restraint. She so wanted to ask him wasn’t it nice to have a dinner guest who ate and appreciated the food? Instead she said, “Pie?”
    “No, thanks. I’m going to bed.”
    “It’s seven forty-five!”
    “Long day,” he said. “I’ll put Duke out one more time and close up for you. Come on, buddy,” he said to the dog. Duke took his time getting up, as though his joints might hurt. “Any day now,” Tom prodded.
    It took quite a while. Since Duke hadn’t been asking to go out, he wasn’t in any hurry. Another ten minutes passed before the old dog ambled in and Tom trudged up the stairs.
    Poor guy, Maxie thought with some humor. It was obvious he liked Nora and wanted to like Darla more. She hoped he’d be able to get some sleep. For herself, she was going to enjoy TV.
    * * *
    Fall was on the land and Coop was grateful that he’d lucked into one of the best setups he could imagine. Since Luke and Shelby invited him to dinner just about every night and gave him his space and trailer hookup for free, he earned his keep by helping out around the compound. He drove to the dump now and then, cleaned the occasional cabin, picked up groceries from the larger stores on the coast and did his share of grilling and cooking for them. It took a little pressure off the Riordans.
    Touring the area with Colin in the little Rhino, which was like a baby Jeep or little quad, had become a favorite pastime. He’d seen much of the country by now and it was beautiful everywhere he looked. Coop was taken with Jilly’s farm, the big house, the harvested garden and huge pumpkin patch, but he was mostly impressed by Colin’s paintings. It was impossible to grasp that this guy wasn’t a professionally trained artist, he was so gifted. “I need to have one of these paintings,” Coop told Colin. “But I have no wall to hang it on and could never decide which one!”
    “You’ll have a wall again,” Colin said with a laugh. “Once you decide what you’re doing next.”
    Coop just shook his head. “I’m not going back to foreign wars, not going back to the oil companies and I can’t paint. In