She didn't even wonder why he wasn't picking up. She was relieved.

That's when she began to know the truth about why she came to Virgin River. To find what she'd lost with her first love.

The cutting of the Virgin River Christmas tree was an all-day affair that involved way more spectators than actual woodsmen. First, there was the hunting for the tree-a thirty-foot fir high in the mountains. Becca watched from the truck the entire time. Then there was the cutting down. She would've expected that to take seconds, but it took a very long time and involved pulleys and ropes and chain saws. Next came the netting and dragging of the tree along barely visible old logging roads. Only big pickups with four-wheel-drive ventured back into the thickest part of the forest.

Once the tree was dragged as far as a main road, a local builder, Paul Haggerty, and his crew met it with a big flatbed truck and their hydraulic gear to lift it and haul it the rest of the way. By the time the tree made it to Virgin River, it was dark, but half the town seemed to be present to look at their catch, so to speak. There was lots of "oohing" and "aahing" going on.

On Saturday, the tree was erected-a process that took many hands and more of Paul Haggerty's equipment and men.

"The first time we brought a tree this size into town, it was just Jack, Preacher and Mike Valenzuela standing it up," Mel told Becca. "During the night, it fell down. Thankfully not on the bar!"

Becca sat on Jack's porch between Mel and Paige. They all held hot drinks. Her eyes grew large at the prospect of that huge tree falling on the bar. She couldn't run, after all. "Should we move?" she asked.

Mel just laughed. "I think now that Paul's on board with this project, we're in pretty good hands. And I think your brother and his friends are kind of enjoying this. Too bad they won't see it completely decorated."

"That must take a long time," Becca said.

"A day or day and a half, and at least one cherry picker," Mel told her.

It was past noon before that tree was upright and stable. Mel and Paige were back and forth to the porch, taking children in and outside. By afternoon, a couple of cherry pickers had arrived and the stringing of the lights commenced.

Becca was surprised she wasn't frozen to the bone, but she couldn't stand to miss a second of this process. And neither could anyone else! Townsfolk came and went throughout the day, everyone with a new opinion about the tree. By then, night was falling, although it was only about five, and Jack and Denny were fastening up the last of the lights.

Cars and trucks were pulling into town. Becca gave a wave to Noah Kincaid and his family. Connie and Ron walked across the street from The Corner Store. Lorraine Thickson arrived in a beat-up old pickup with a passel of kids somehow stuffed into it. No husband and father, she noticed. Becca sat up a little straighter as she saw Denny in the cherry-picker basket, going up up up to the top of the huge tree. Mel and Paige came back outside; their kids ran into the street. Everyone seemed to sense that the culmination was near.

Denny fussed with the top of the tree, then the cherry picker lowered him to the ground again. Jack must have connected the electricity, because the tree came alive! Lights twinkled all over the giant fir and on the very top was a star that positively brightened the sky! There was a collective "aww" in the crowd and as the night grew dark and the lights bright, there was silence. People seemed motionless.

Then magic happened-a gentle snow began to fall.

"Unbelievable," Becca whispered to no one. "Amazing." She felt her eyes watering from the sheer beauty of the moment. Then the tree went dark and, after her eyes adjusted a bit, she noticed people beginning to disperse.

Suddenly Denny was beside her, scooting his chair close. "You okay?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, wiping at her eyes. "It was just so emotional-seeing all the work done and so many people turn out."

"It's far from done. There are ornaments and trim still to do. The official lighting is tomorrow night, after the rest of it's decorated. It takes half the town to get it done." He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You're going to love it. Too bad the boys can't stay for that."

That evening Preacher served up a fantastic pot of turkey soup and it seemed to Becca there were more than the usual number of people stopping by the bar, probably curious about the tree. The temperature dropped and the snow fell gently and she loved the sound of people stomping the snow off their boots on the front porch. Dinner was barely over when Rich pulled his chair closer to hers.

"You sure this is what you want me to do, Becca? Leave you here and go home?"

For a second, she wore a shocked expression. How had she managed not to think about Rich and his buddies leaving? Now that he was, she felt oddly vulnerable. But determined. "I'll be fine," she said.

"If you need me to stay and bring you home at the end of the week, I'll stay. I'll call in to work, tell them you were hurt and I'm stuck here with you."

She shook her head. "You know I'll be fine with Denny. He would never do anything to hurt me. He said he'll drive me home."

"Well, that's just it, Becca. He'd never do anything on purpose, but you two were like oil and water there for a while. It didn't work too well for you and Denny. You were real..." He hung his head briefly. "While he was in the sandbox, you were hurting all over the place. I felt like it was kind of my fault-I was the one who hooked you up in the first place." He squeezed her hand tenderly, something Rich never did. "I don't want to see you go through something like that again."

"Wow," she said in a whisper. "I didn't think you even noticed."

"I didn't say anything," he said, shrugging, "because I didn't know what to say, for one thing. I didn't know how to make it better. And I couldn't say anything to Denny until he got back from Afghanistan-you don't go telling a fighting Marine his at-home life is all a wreck. But yeah, I noticed. And then you started to get a little better..."

She smiled at him. "A little, huh?"

"You went from being crushed to being pissed. It was an improvement."

"Aww. Our problems had nothing to do with you. It wasn't your fault. Then I met Doug and-"

"Here's the thing, Becca. You have to tell Mom and Dad where you are and who's taking responsibility for you. And you have to tell them how you got here-that I didn't have much of a choice."

She stiffened indignantly. "Excuse me, but I'm taking responsibility for myself. Denny's giving me a place to stay, but I'm twenty-five and I'm-"

He was shaking his head. "I'm leaving you and going home because Denny said he'd look out for you. I know you're all grown up, but he's your ex. And you know how Mom feels about your ex. You have to tell her. And you have to do it tomorrow, because when she asks me about you, I'm not going to lie to her. I kind of feel like she can still ground me or take away my truck or something."

That made her grin. Really, Rich's relationship with that truck was funny.

"Okay. I was going to, anyway."

"Have you told Doug?"

"Mostly," she said with a shrug. "I told him I was hunting with you...."

Rich sucked in his breath. "Okay, I don't want to know any more about this. You kept it from Mom and Dad, you kept the important parts from Doug, Denny's the one I'm leaving in charge..." He groaned.

"I'm going to tell everyone everything, but right now, I'm still here because I have a broken ankle."

"At least promise to call Mom. Before I get home and she puts the screws to me."

"For goodness' sake, you're twenty-five! You build bridges! Why are you so nervous about our mother?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I hate it when she's pissed at me." He ran a big meaty hand over his face. "You sure you're going to be all right if I leave you?"

She nodded. "I'm sure. I think this worked out just the way it's supposed to."

"And your ankle doesn't hurt too much anymore?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Okay, one more thing, Becca. If anything happens and you need me, will you call me?"

"Huh? Richie, you never act like this!"

"Yeah," he said, running a hand around the back of his neck. "I know you think you're the boss, the big sister, but it really bothers me to see you upset. I do care about you, you know." He grimaced. "Don't tell anyone I said that."