Art grinned. “Uh-huh. Is it your first baby?”

“It is my very first. We did very good for our first, wouldn’t you say?”

“Very good,” he agreed. “I like how her hair stands straight up like that.” Then he focused his eyes on Mike’s. “I can stay with Luke now?”

“Everything’s going to work out fine,” Mike said. “You asked the right person. Brie knows everything about everything.”

Twenty minutes passed and Art didn’t tire of holding the sleeping baby at all. Then Brie came back into the room. “Well, it’s all good. Art can live wherever he wants to. You’ll have to go to Social Services and collect copies of some of his vital papers—birth certificate, social security benefit change, new picture ID in case he ever wants to travel via airlines, a whole bunch of stuff. He should start receiving his benefit checks a few weeks after you complete that. If you want a subsidy for giving him housing…”

“I don’t need that,” Luke said immediately.

“Rethink that—health care is part of the subsidy and that’s important. Unless he becomes your dependent and you can put him on your military health care. In any case, you’ll have to apply to either one. A little paperwork will tidy things up.” Then she grinned. “Okay, a lot of tiresome paperwork.”

Luke stood. “Stan and Shirl?”

“It’s being looked into. From the reaction of the D.A., I’d say their party’s just about over.”

“Jeez,” Luke said, running a hand over the short-cropped hair on his head. “I had no idea it was all going to be so simple!”

“Yeah, well, I know the right people here now,” Brie said. She leaned down and ran a hand over her daughter’s head. Then she leaned down and gave that little head a kiss. When she straightened, Art bent his big head and gave the baby a small kiss. “Welcome to Virgin River, Art,” Brie said with a smile.

That night Luke couldn’t wait to tell Shelby how smoothly things appeared to be working out for Art, thanks to Brie.

“So he can stay with you forever?” she asked.

“Forever’s a long time, but he can stay here while he wants to,” Luke said.

“But what about when you sell the cabins?” she asked.

“Well, they’re not for sale yet,” he said with a shrug. “If I do sell them, I can find a place for Art that’s safe and secure.”

“If,” she said, her heart racing suddenly.

“I think I’ve gotten kind of comfortable here.” He laughed softly. “Surprises the hell out of me. I thought I’d be stir-crazy by now.”

“You were talking about a flying job. Have you applied anywhere?”

“I’ve talked to a couple of outfits that have openings—a news chopper in Dallas. A rescue outfit in Georgia. Nothing has my name stamped on it yet. I’ve only been out of the army six months. There’s plenty of time. Right now the important thing is that Art feels okay.”

Shelby didn’t say anything right away. She waited for him to say something about them—their future. About it being important that she felt okay. About having plans that included them both. But nothing came. Because nothing had changed.

“While I’m here,” Luke said, “I should be able to keep an eye on Art, it’s not like he’s high maintenance.”

“Well,” Shelby said. “That’s great news. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

Loving Luke was like a drug for Shelby. She wasn’t sure exactly how long to stay in this relationship or how to let it go, but one thing she did know for sure, he wasn’t offering her anything more than what they had together, and what they had wasn’t binding in any way. It was more than just sex, but intimacy with him held her captive. There was also affection. In terms of companionship, friendship, she felt secure; it was clear he cared about her. The problem was that without words of love, without commitment, the day could come without warning that he would say, “I don’t feel enough to keep this going any longer.” And that day would kill her.

It was that moment Muriel had warned her about. The moment of clarity that signaled it was time to think about moving on.

The weather had been fairly mild until late January and then a blast from the north covered the mountains and brought in February with rain, snow, sleet and ice. The days were short and, given the overcast, dark. The snow didn’t stick for long but the ice was unpredictable and treacherous. The California Department of Forestry was clearing the mountain roads of debris and spreading sand along the steep and curving roads. There were more than the usual number of one-car accidents caused by poor visibility or slippery roads. Everyone in Virgin River was bundled up.

Shelby headed for town one afternoon to spend some time talking with Mel; Mel was always compassionate but straight to the point with her advice. Uncle Walt warned Shelby to watch those patches of black ice. All the way into town, she was rehearsing what she would say, how she would explain that nothing had gone wrong with Luke, but it also hadn’t gone quite right. That Luke was ready to take care of Art and make sure he had all he needed, but hadn’t even said he would miss Shelby—that said it all. She needed to be told she was loved. She didn’t think that was greedy.

She slowed as she saw something up ahead that looked like a pile of trash by the side of the road. Also, some dirt on the shoulder was visible through the snow. Then from that pile at the edge of the road, there was movement. As she drew near, a child stood up while another person remained down. She hit the brakes and skidded, so she eased up through a possible spin until she stopped safely.

She jumped out of the Jeep and what she saw stunned and confused her. A little girl, maybe six years old, stood beside a teenage boy who sat on the ground, gripping his shoulder with one hand and grimacing in pain. He had a gash on his head and his arm hung at an unnatural angle. The little girl was sobbing, tears running down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

Shelby knelt beside them. She ran her hands over the little girl’s head, shoulders and arms. “What happened here?” she asked them.

“The bus,” the boy said, turning his head to point down the hill. Halfway down, a hundred feet at least, that big yellow bus was balanced very tentatively, the back end up against a huge tree, the front end pointing downward. If one thing shifted, that bus could head down the hill like a torpedo, hitting every tree and bump in its path before crashing at the bottom, a long way down.

“Holy God,” Shelby muttered. She bent to the boy, who grimaced in pain again. “Are there kids on the bus?” she asked.

“It’s full o’ kids,” he groaned. “When it slid off the road, we started to get out the back emergency door.” Tears ran down his cheeks from the pain. “I only got Mindy out before the thing shifted and slid farther.” He groaned. “I took a dive.”

“And crawled up the hill?” she asked.

He nodded. “If they try to get out, it could go. My arm. It’s outta the socket. You gotta pull it hard. Get it back in.”

“Hang on, buddy,” she said. “Just hang on.” She walked over to the edge of the hill, framed her mouth with her hands and yelled as loud as she could. “Don’t move! I’m getting help!” She helped the boy to his feet, then took the little girl’s hand. She opened the back door of the Jeep for them.

He struggled to get in. “Can’t you do this arm?” he asked. “All you have to do is—”

“We’re only a couple of minutes from town, just hang on and let a doctor do it. You can make it. Work with me here,” she said. Through some slipping and sliding, she got them into the Jeep. She punched the odometer to zero to record the exact distance to the scene. As she headed the rest of the way to town, she asked a couple of questions. “You have any idea how many kids are on the bus?”

“I don’t know exactly. Some didn’t go today because of weather,” he said. “About twenty. Mostly the little ones.”

“Do you know how it happened?”

“Ice,” he said simply. “We fishtailed. I thought she had it, but then the back end of the bus slid down the hill. Lucky we weren’t crushed, me and Mindy. We were coming out the back.”

“Do you know if anyone else is hurt in the bus?”

“I didn’t see anything after it started down the hill.”

“Mindy? You okay, honey? Anything hurt?”

“My knees,” she cried. “I want my mommy!” Tears ran down her chafed cheeks.

“How long ago?” Shelby asked the boy.

“Not too long. You came along right away.”

“Sheer luck,” she said. “I’m so glad I did.” As she neared town, there was sand sprinkled on the road. But what she saw panicked her—parents waiting inside their cars for the bus to bring their children. At least they were inside the cars and might assume the bus was running late because of weather. She hoped they’d take no notice of her hauling kids into the clinic at the other end of the block. She pulled up in front. “Stay right here while I get the doctor. You have to give me sixty seconds. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” the boy said. “Hurry.”

Shelby ran into the clinic. As she entered, Cameron came out of the office and Mel came from the kitchen. Shelby tried to keep her voice calm. “I’ve got two kids in my Jeep. A little girl about six, scratched up, a boy about sixteen, gash on his head and dislocated shoulder. The school bus went off the road. Four point six miles west of town. Twenty kids are trapped in a bus that’s balanced against a tree and could slip down the mountain any second.”

“Jesus,” Mel said. “Let’s get the kids in here,” she said, heading for the door.

Shelby grabbed the sleeve of her sweater. “Listen, there are parents waiting at the bus stop. If they figure out there’s an accident, they’re going to rush out there, maybe attempt a rescue, maybe cause that bus to dislodge and crash down the hill.”

Mel looked at Shelby calmly. “Call 911. Then call Jack and tell him about the accident and where to go—tell him about the parents. He’ll know what to do. Then call Connie at the corner store and tell her we have an emergency. Ask her to walk down here, calmly, as if nothing’s wrong. We’ll take care of the kids in your Jeep and the minute they’re stable, we’ll have Connie stay here and head out to the scene. Got that?”

“Got it,” Shelby said, heading for the phone.

She was already on the phone to Jack when Mel and Cameron were bringing the kids into the clinic. She watched Cam take the boy into the treatment room as Mel took the little girl into the exam room. Shelby was on the phone to Connie when she heard a loud cry from the treatment room—Cameron had likely yanked that shoulder to pop it back into the joint.

Shelby paced for a couple of seconds, waiting. Then she picked up the phone and called Walt, sending him out to help. Then thinking that if anyone had heavy equipment that could be useful, it would be Paul; she asked her uncle to find him in case he could help. And then, thankfully, Connie came in the door. Right at that moment, Mel came out of the exam room and faced her.

“We have a school-bus accident,” she said, reaching for her coat. “First aid will probably be necessary. Maybe triage. We have to go out there right away. There’s a small child in the exam room—her name is Mindy. She appears to be all right, just some scrapes, but you have to get her help to contact her mother. Cam’s treating an older boy. Someone has to stay here in the clinic, Connie. My kids are sleeping in the kitchen, due to wake up. Call for help if you need to, but I need to have Shelby with me. Can you manage this?”