Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)
Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5) Page 18
Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5) Page 18
“Big, like all those Virgin River men,” Cameron said.
“Not really,” she said. “Broad shouldered but not even six feet. When I wore heels, we were the same height. Dark haired, like you. Blue eyes, like yours. Tender and sensitive and easy to talk to.” She got a little misty. “Sometimes I really miss him. I’m sorry.”
He leaned toward her, sneaking up on her, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Never be sorry. It sounds like you had something special. You wouldn’t want to not have had that. Especially with the little guy.”
“You’re right, yes. I’m getting to the point where I can appreciate that—that I had him in my life, that I have his son. I’m grateful I had at least that much rather than never having known him.” She inhaled sharply and looked out at the ocean. “It’s nice of you—not avoiding that subject. Not pretending he wasn’t…isn’t a part of my life.”
“Vanessa, he’s going to be a part of your life forever.”
“Yeah. I don’t know if I take comfort in that or not.” She looked back at him and smiled. “But I’m grateful, understand. For Matt, the baby—everything but the end.”
“Let’s go back,” he said. “I’d like a shower before dinner and you could probably use a little time alone with your baby. Maybe a nap.”
She took a breath. “That might be in order. What time is dinner?”
“Drinks at six-thirty, dinner at seven.”
“Where?”
“We’re eating in. It’s going to be special.”
“In?” she asked. “Special?”
“Once you get Mattie settled, we’ll have a catered dinner on the patio so you’ll be able to hear him if he wakes. Don’t panic,” he said, laughing. “I don’t have ulterior motives—there’s going to be a waiter present most of the time. I’m not trying to trap you. Impress you, yes. Trap you, no.”
Paul didn’t see Terri at all that week, but he called her twice to ask her how she was, and he kept the conversations short. He’d been planning to go to Virgin River, but then he got a call from Joe explaining about Jack and Preacher’s add-on, and the need for a builder’s opinion. This was perfect because it gave a professional purpose to the trip but he knew Terri would realize there was more to Virgin River than a construction job. He promised to call her during the weekend to make sure she was doing all right, but he didn’t give her the general’s number where he could be reached. This time, he would call for messages.
But she surprised him by saying, “Have a nice weekend, Paul.” And he was so grateful that he suggested he might try to see her the following week, maybe for a lunch. And she said, “That would be nice, Paul.”
When he got to the general’s house on Saturday, Vanni was not there, and Walt was wearing a very annoyed expression.
“She didn’t mention she’d be away this weekend,” Paul said.
“No, she didn’t, did she?” the general said. “Yet, I’m not sure why. You have any intel on that, son?”
He shook his head. “I told her I was coming. I think she was angry with me for forgetting to call her.”
“She’s gone away for the weekend with the pediatrician,” Walt announced.
“God damn! Sir,” Paul said. “I mean—”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Walt turned away from him.
“Sir, maybe I can explain this misunderstanding,” Paul attempted.
The general waved him off. “I don’t want to hear it,” he said. “I’ve heard way too much already, and I don’t want to be any more confused. Seems about time you explained whatever it is to Vanessa, however.”
“Yeah. Yes, sir. Ah, I have to go into town, see Jack and Preacher about building onto that bar. How’d you like to come along?”
He turned back. “As a matter of fact, I’d like to do just that.”
By the time Paul and Walt got to the bar, the lunch crowd was finishing up. Both of them needed a beer, both for the same reason, though they didn’t discuss it. Walt had no idea what was going on with his daughter, but he’d been real close to her for thirty years and he smelled a broken heart, yet she’d gone away with the doctor. As for Paul, he was sure his complete ineptness was causing him to lose her. Again.
After Jack served them up a couple of cold drafts, Paul said, “Joe tells me you’re planning some building.”
“That’s a fact,” Jack said. “We have to make room for Preacher’s family. Now that he’s figured out how to make the babies, he wants a house big enough to fill up with kids.” Jack took a sip from his coffee mug. “They like it here. They like working together, living right on the property, running things their way. Makes sense to me, and Joe says it’s easily done. He left some sketches, but doesn’t have plans yet. He needs a builder to check out beams and foundation, etcetera.”
“I can do that,” Paul said. “You have someone in mind for building?”
“That’s a problem around here. Until recently, there’s not been too much demand so our general contractors are few and far between. Remember, I couldn’t find one who could go to work within a year, but we sure have plenty of crew looking for construction jobs. And, there’s been a development.”
“What’s that?”
“Mike and Brie. They’ve been looking for a house for months—nothing that works for them has come on the market. My plot’s big—I can give them a parcel and they can build their own place. They’ll be talking to Joe soon about a design. But they’re sitting in that RV, trying to start their own family, needing space, and they have the same problem—a serious lack of builders.” He shook his head. “This is one of those times I wish you lived in Virgin River, Paul.”
“Let me see the sketches,” Paul said, changing the subject.
Jack reached under the bar and pulled out a large sheaf of rolled papers, clipped together at one corner. “They’re pretty rough sketches.”
“No problem,” Paul said. “I’m used to his scrawls and squiggles. He does manage to invent new abbreviations regularly, though. To challenge me, I think. Preacher in back?”
“Yeah, he’s cleaning up after lunch.”
Paul grinned. “Maybe I’ll get started. Take care of the general, will you?”
“Who says I need taking care of?” Walt asked. “I’m as happy right now as I’ve been all week.”
Paul drank about half of his beer, flipping through the sketches, then dragged himself off the stool and wandered into the kitchen.
Paul knew the bar like the back of his hand, but to do the architect justice, he looked at it with a builder’s eyes. He scribbled over Joe’s notes. He walked through the apartment and upstairs, then stopped in the middle of the small living quarters on the ground floor. He thought with the second floor and loft added, it could handle an open-beamed ceiling over their new great room, with a fireplace. Then he walked around outside.
Before Paul could escape back to the bar, Mike saw him prowling around the yard right outside Preacher’s quarters where the extension would be anchored. He walked across the yard from the RV. “Hey, Paul, did Jack tell you we’re looking at building?”
“He did,” Paul said with a nod. “Probably a good idea, if you’re not finding anything you like.”
“It sure would be great if I already knew the builder and his work,” Mike said.
“Yeah, but I work in Grants Pass now,” Paul said.
“There must be at least one incentive to taking a job around here,” Mike said, grinning.
“I love this place, you know that. But I have commitments in Grants Pass. I left my dad and brothers for a long time while I was here last autumn.” And, thought, those commitments included a pregnancy. Maybe, just maybe, Virgin River would be a more strategic place to sit it out. He could keep in touch with Terri by phone rather than having her expect him to be available to her. It would help with the matter of not giving her false hope. “Tell you what, I’ll definitely think about it. But there are a lot of factors.” Not the least of which was Vanessa Rutledge.
Six
A t only two and a half months, little Matt had become a very cooperative travel companion. After his stroll along the cliffs, he had a nice catnap with his mother, then a bath and a little playtime. Then a long, leisurely nursing, and back to sleep. Vanni had a shower, put on a lightweight sundress, primped and waited until she heard a soft tapping at the door that separated her from Cameron. “Is he asleep?” Cameron asked.
“He is.”
Cameron crept near the portable crib and looked at him. He saw Vanessa’s shawl on the bed and picked it up, draping it over her bare shoulders. “I was prepared for him to join us for dinner.” He laughed. “We’ll keep an ear turned his way. Come here,” he said, taking her hand. “I have drinks on the patio.” He led her through his room onto his patio where a table had been set with china. He lifted a drink and put it into her hand. The sun was just beginning its downward path. He touched her glass with his. “To a weekend away from it all.”
“Thank you, Cameron. I didn’t realize how much I needed something like this.”
He pulled out a chair for her, turning it slightly to face the beautiful sunset. “Sit down and enjoy the sunset. Are you warm enough?”
She pulled the wrap around her and nodded.
“Do you miss the flying, Vanni?” he asked her.
“I miss the girlfriends,” she said. “We’re in touch and we visit a lot, but there were four of us who bid our schedules together, so every trip was like a four-day pajama party. Two of us lived in L.A., two in San Francisco. We’re still close.”
“Will you go back to flying?”
“No, that part of my life is over. I can’t imagine leaving little Matt for days at a time. Half of my problem is not having any idea what’s coming next for me. Sitting in my father’s house, a single mother?” She shook her head. “I don’t know about that.…”
He laughed at her. “Vanni, you’re not going to do that. Carol said something about you joining her in real estate.…”
It was her turn to laugh. She felt an overwhelming temptation to tell Cameron she’d rather have all her teeth pulled than work with Carol every day, but knowing their friendship preceded hers with him, she just said, “No. I already told her I wasn’t interested in real estate, but in her usual fashion she wasn’t listening and is probably getting a desk ready for me at her brokerage firm.”
“A formidable woman,” he said, giving his head a shake. “Being her daughter-in-law probably has its challenges, but I have to hand it to her—she got me my house at an irresistible price. She got the seller to bring the price way down without me even making an offer.”
“She probably wore them down. She’s worn me down a time or two.”
“I can only imagine.”
There was a knock at the door and Cameron rose to admit a man dressed in waiter livery carrying a large tray. He was a friendly man in his fifties, delighted to be serving them. He chatted about the food as he prepared their plates, poured them wine and large glasses of water. He had a van backed right up to Cameron’s hotel-room door and went back and forth to bring in the meal and, once their plates had been served, he stood silent by the hotel-room door, allowing them to talk and enjoy the meal, watching in case it was time to refill water or wine glasses.
They were served salad, pasta, chicken Marsala, crisp green beans with almonds, Chardonnay. Then came crème brûlée.
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