Moonlight Road. Робин Карр

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      “I’ll get it,” he said. “I have to close the doors to the deck anyway.” But he took the car keys with him, for safety reasons. He scraped things off the counter and back into her purse, returned to the car and put the purse in her lap. Then he got in and started driving. “You might have to give me some directions.…I’m not from around here.”

      She groaned and dropped her head back. “I’m not from around here, either.”

      “Never mind, I can fake it,” he said. “I can find Highway 36 from Virgin River. What are you doing here, if you’re not from around here?”

      “Taking a break from work and trying to enjoy solitude,” she answered, exasperation in her voice. “Then Charles Manson came through the trees, carrying a three-foot-long knife, and startled me. So much for peace and quiet.”

      “Come on—I let my beard grow, that’s all. I’m on vacation and didn’t feel like shaving, so sue me.”

      “As it happens, I could. I’ve been known to sue people on occasion.”

      He laughed. “I should’ve known. A lawyer. And by the way, I was carrying the machete for cutting away the brush so I could get through the woods when there’s no path.”

      “Why are you here?” she asked him.

      “Visiting family. I have a brother who lives around here. He and his wife are getting ready to be parents for the first time and I’m…I’m…” He cleared his throat. “Let’s just say I’m between jobs.”

      She laughed. “Unemployed. Big surprise. Let me guess—you’ve been between jobs for a while now.”

      She was pissing him off. He could’ve leveled with her, that he was a doctor planning his next move. But she was snooty and superior and he just didn’t feel like it. “At least long enough to grow a beard,” he said evasively.

      “You know, if you cleaned up a little, you might be able to land a job,” she advised very sagely.

      “I’ll certainly take that into consideration.”

      “The beard is a little crazy,” she said. “It’ll put off potential employers.” Then under her breath she added, “Not to mention the smell…”

      “I’ll bear that in mind. Although my niece likes it.” He turned to peer at her. “The beard, that is.”

      “I thought you said your brother was having his first child.”

      “She’s a different brother’s child.”

      “Ah, so you have more than one brother. Just out of curiosity, what do your brothers think of this, um, between-jobs lifestyle?”

      “I think you should be quiet now,” he said. “Save whatever brain cells you have left. We have a forty-minute drive to Valley Hospital, west of Grace Valley. Rest. Silently.”

      “Sure,” she said. “Fine.”

      What did his brothers think of his decision? They thought he was nuts. He’d been totally committed to the navy; he loved the navy. But the military gave with one hand and took away with the other.

      When Aiden had been a brand-new M.D., compliments of a navy scholarship, his first assignment was as a GMO—general medical officer—aboard ship. It was a two-year assignment that dry-docked every six months for a few months. They put into port regularly, during which time he could see the world and feel earth beneath his feet, but his life was spent aboard ship. The medical officer was under a great deal of pressure 24/7—being the only doctor in charge of a complete medical staff and the only officer aboard who could relieve the ship’s captain of duty. He knew the pressure was extreme when he found himself taking his duty phone into the shower with him—that was over-the-top. They had also spent their share of time in the Persian Gulf, which meant giving emergency medical treatment to civilians in trouble—mostly fishermen or ship’s crewmen who didn’t speak English.

      His reward for that duty was his residency in OB-GYN, which obligated him to more commitment to the navy. But it had been worth it—he took care of the female military personnel and wives of active-duty and retired sailors and marines. It was a good life. He had stayed in one place for a long time—San Diego.

      Then he was due a promotion, and the navy felt it was time for him to go to sea again. It would have meant general medical officer once more—not in his specialty. There wasn’t a lot of call for an OB-GYN aboard an aircraft carrier. Aiden didn’t mind being out to sea so much, but he was thirty-six. It wasn’t something he talked about, but he felt there were things missing from his life. A wife and family for one thing, and he wasn’t likely to meet a woman who could fill that bill on a big gray boat. He needed to be on land.

      Sometimes he asked himself why that even mattered—it wasn’t as though being on dry land had worked so far. Right after his stint as a GMO, at the age of twenty-eight, he’d met and quickly married Annalee, who had turned out to be a total nutcase. They were married for three whole months, during which she demolished every breakable object they owned. She had been volatile, jealous and crazed—her moods shifted faster than the sands of time.

      That experience left him gun-shy and slowed him down a little, but a couple of years later he was ready to get back in the game, feeling older and wiser. Still, he couldn’t seem to meet any women who were contenders for the exalted position as his wife and the mother of his children.

      But one thing was for certain—it wasn’t going to happen at sea.

      Truth was, he just plain wasn’t ready to commit any more time to the navy. His brothers thought fourteen years, only six from his twenty and retirement benefits, made him nuts to get out. But in his mind, these were his best years. He was still young enough to be an involved husband and father if he ever met the right woman. At the retirement age of forty-two, starting a family would be pushing it.

      He glanced at Erin. Her eyes were closed and she held his ice packs on her forehead and the back of her head. He’d like a woman who looked like that—but she’d have to be sweet and far less arrogant. He was looking for someone soft and nurturing. You don’t go looking for a hard-ass to be the mother of your children, and this one was a hard-ass. Of course, what was he to expect? She was a lawyer.

      He chuckled to himself. She was probably a medical-malpractice attorney.

      Feeling at least partially responsible for Erin’s bump on the head, Aiden hung out at the hospital for a while. Not anywhere near her, of course. He got her checked in to the E.R., made sure she had what she needed, explained her injury and loss of consciousness to the E.R. doctor and left her car keys with him so Erin could get herself home once she was cleared to drive. Then he went outside so his less-than-pristine musk would not offend anyone. And there he sat for close to an hour.

      He was just about to swing by the E.R. before calling his brother for a ride home when who should happen to walk out of the hospital but Pastor Noah Kincaid.

      “Hey, Aiden,” Noah said, sticking out his hand. “What are you doing here? You didn’t have an accident, did you?”

      Aiden shook his hand. “No—I think I caused one. Are you heading back to Virgin River?”

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