![]() It was her loneliness and advancing pregnancy that had sent her packing to Virgin River. She'd still been working for the airline when Matt left for Iraq. One year turned into five because she loved the job, the travel, the people. ![]() She decided to take a year before pursuing an eighty-hour-a-week career path and, on a whim, went to work as a flight attendant. There was a time, years before she met Matt, that Vanni had envisioned herself as a high-powered news anchor using her degree in communications. "Stop it!" she had laughed, slapping his arm, neither of them realizing how prophetic his words would be. "When I go," he had said, "plant me on that little hill, under that tree." When her father chose this property a couple of years before his retirement from the Army, she and Matt had taken a look at it. The last place Vanessa ever expected to find herself was in a tiny mountain town of six hundred. She blew a long kiss in that direction and hurried down the little hill, past the stable and up to the house. "We'll have a real conversation about this later," she told the headstone. Her father, retired general Walt Booth, was acting as chauffeur so that he could watch the baby while Vanessa had her exam. Little Matt had been born six weeks ago and this morning they were both seeing Mel Sheridan for their first checkups since his birth. Her father was standing out on the deck behind the house holding the baby away from himself, like he'd just pooped on his mess dress. Please? Let him know he's so much more than-" If I have that, I'd like you to give the man who is to be my future a little nudge. But, darling, I'm going to love again, and I need your blessing. Matt, you know I love you, that I'll always love you, that I see you in your son's eyes every day. ![]() "I know this is going to seem like a strange request-but I just don't know who else to ask. Vanessa Rutledge stood in front of her husband's grave, her coat pulled tightly around her against the crisp March breeze, red hair billowing in the wind.
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