A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River 4)

Oh holy night

The stars are brightly shining

’Tis the night of our dear Savior’s birth!

Marcie’s heart leaped; her eyes filled with tears as she whirled around, only to find a crowd of people behind her also turning to his voice. She handed off her candle, breathless, blurry-eyed, and pushed her way through the crowd, separating them so she could pass. By the time she got through the people, she saw him there, standing across the street. The light of the star fell on him, and she hardly knew him. He was clean shaven, dressed in his good pants, shirt and denim jacket. And beside him on the ground was a duffel. Packed.

Her hand rose shakily to her throat, which was constricted and tight. Tears ran down her cheeks. He smiled at her only briefly, then his eyes rose to the star as he sang.

Fall on your knees

Oh, hear the angel voices

Oh, night divine

Oh, night when Christ was born

Oh, night divine

Oh night, oh night divine

His was the angel’s voice.

Fall on your knees, indeed. It was all Marcie could do to stay upright. But Ian didn’t stop singing; he gave the hymn everything he had, then another chorus, loud and moving. There was not so much as a murmur within the crowd and no one joined in, so stunning was the voice, the passion. And when he finally came to the end of the hymn, he just let his chin drop in reverence, looking down.

First there were gasps of delight, then applause began, but Marcie just walked toward him, her eyes shining, her legs weak. When she reached him, she put a hand against the cheek that bore the long, thin scar. And his hand was against her soft, red curls.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly.

“Practicing that singing for people instead of wildlife,” he said. “You’re the one who shouldn’t still be here. I thought I’d stop by for a carol or two, then head out.”

“Long story. But where are you going?”

“Chico.” He smiled at her. “There’s a girl there I have business with.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Maybe one night, since it’s getting so late. Then I’ll check with the old man’s paperboy and see if I can get a let on a room.”

“Oh, Ian…” She threw her arms around him and he held her off the ground. He kissed her soundly, to the cheers of their audience.

But then he put her on her feet and held her upper arms. “Listen, Abigail—there are some things you have to know. I have fourteen hundred and eleven dollars to my name and I need gas. No savings. I haven’t filed a tax return in four years. If I can’t pay the taxes on that mountain in the spring, it’ll just go away, and I can’t pay the taxes if I don’t find a job. I haven’t had a real job in a long time. And my father—I don’t have any illusions about it being a tearful reunion. He’ll probably just kick me to the curb. So go into this knowing it’s still a mess. Just because I sang out loud doesn’t mean—”

“You think I’m a wimp?” she asked, incredulous. “You think after everything I’m weak? Then why are you coming? I know how you hate weakness!”

“To see if there’s anything to us. Marcie, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, so tell me you’re up to this if it all falls apart. Because going in, there’s a lot on the minus side, starting with me. I could be a huge disappointment to you in the end.”

“Did you return my library books?” she asked.

“I didn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “There were only so many things I could do if I was going to get to you before Christmas.”

She smiled up at him. “Well, I never did know quite where I was going. But there was this light…And I followed…I told you, I love you. Ian, I love you so much. I’ll start there and take everything else as it comes.”

“And I didn’t tell you,” Ian said. “I didn’t want to mess you up, let you down. But I can’t remember ever feeling this way before. I love you, Marcie. I’ll try anything.”

“Okay, then. Why don’t we just start with faith and we’ll go from there?”

He grinned at her. “Erin Elizabeth is going to be a little disgruntled when she sees me.”

She patted his cheek. “She won’t even recognize you for a couple of days, at least. You look so magnificent. Who’s going to feed Buck?”

“Buck’s on his own for now. We’ll catch up with him when the snow melts. Does that work for you?”

“Perfect,” she said. And she thought, if these mountains are beautiful in winter, they must be heart-stopping in spring with the promise of new life. Like hers.

Like his…

Like theirs…