After filling out some paperwork, Conner walked across a muddy lot to a house that was nearly finished and introduced himself to Dan Brady.
“Oh, hey,” Dan said, stretching out a hand. “Paul mentioned something about a cabinet guy heading our way!”
“I hope that’s me,” he said, thinking, I used to be Dan, Uncle Danny. But he was Conner now—a change that would probably be permanent. “I’m supposed to work with you. What are we doing here?”
Dan spread out his plans on a piece of wood set atop the base for a kitchen island. “Granite countertops, walnut cabinets with glass insets, matching bathroom counters with granite carved sinks and identical cabinets—no glass insets in the bathroom.”
Conner gave a nod. “This is pretty high-end for me. I’ve done it, but it’s been a while. I hope you don’t mind if I ask for advice here and there?”
“I’ll mind if you don’t. I’d rather help you do it right for the homeowner than have to go back and redo. Let’s get it right the first time. Any questions, spit ’em out.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“I appreciate it more,” Dan said. “We’re on time and on budget because we build smart.”
“I’ll try to keep up with you,” Conner said.
Conner hadn’t been on a building crew in a long time, but he’d been involved in building in every other way. He’d built all his own displays, given classes to homeowners who’d been attempting their own renovations, instructed carpenters who’d been after something new and upscale. But of course the business of retailing had been too consuming to allow extra time for building, except for the things he’d built for his nephews—their backyard play set, shelves, cabinets, race car bed frames.
How he missed them! But having his hands on the wood was reassuring and felt good. Measuring, cutting, planing, nailing, sanding…it was therapeutic. While he couldn’t really let his mind wander too much if he was going to do a good job, it was easy to take a little think time while he worked with his hands. This had always been his magic bullet—carpentry. Every so often he’d glance over at Dan to check his progress and mastery. The man’s artistry shone through in no time.
“How long you been doing this, bud?” Conner asked.
“Oh, forever. My dad was a builder. We built the house we lived in, one room at a time. Really tough father, but outstanding builder. He was my first boss.”
“I lost my dad twelve years ago,” Conner found himself saying. And then he thought about how easy it was to just talk about himself, his authentic self. He wondered if he’d always been that way without realizing it. But of course he had—he’d never had anything to hide before. Would a clever person be able to piece together a million details and discover him? But still he added, “He was tough, too. Good but tough. How long have you worked for Haggerty?”
“Few years,” Dan said. “He’s solid. Good man.” Dan stood tall and said, “But don’t get the idea that just because he’s nice, he’s soft or easy. With him you earn your pay. And if you don’t, you’re gone fast. I repeat, fast.”
Conner straightened. “You warning me for a reason?”
“Not that I can see, but a friendly word here and there never hurts. What brings you to the mountains?”
Conner gave him the standard line. Maybe it would even begin to feel natural.
“Brie? You knew Brie?”
“We were lots younger….”
“Did you know her brother, Jack?” Dan asked.
“We just had a couple of classes together. When I found myself out of work, I got in touch with everyone I’d ever met. I didn’t know anyone else in her family.”
Dan grinned. “You’ll like Jack. But never let him know it. In fact, the best way to get on his good side is to give him a little shit. Accuse him of something. Say he’s overcharging you.” Then Dan chuckled and got back to work.
“Jack who owns the little bar in town?” Conner asked.
“The same,” Dan said. Later, when they were done for the day, Dan said, “Hey, my fiancée’s out for the evening, and I’ll be having dinner at Jack’s. I’ll stand you a beer if you’re not busy.”
He used to be busy all the time, so busy there was no time for that occasional beer with friends unless he grabbed one out of Katie’s fridge while he visited with her. Back when he had a wife, he’d struggled to get out of the store and home to her, but that seemed so long ago. And he’d often returned to the store for a few hours after dinner, a thing that plagued him now. Had he not given enough in that relationship? Left his wife wanting, left her believing she was some kind of addict? And after Samantha was gone, there was work and Katie and the boys. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had pals.
“I could spare some time,” he said to Dan. “I was planning to get dinner there myself.”
“Good, then. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
Back in that little bar there were now at least twenty people, all of whom seemed to know each other. Conner was a little uncomfortable about that.
Jack lifted his hand and yelled, “Hey,” as Dan and Conner entered and took seats at the bar. Jack lost no time in making introductions. Whenever someone came to the bar to order a beer, he said, “This here is Conner, new to these mountains, working for Paul now.” Conner met the cook and his wife, a young man named Denny who helped out behind the bar, Denny’s girl, Becca, who would soon be the elementary-school teacher, “Once there is an elementary school,” Jack said. “We’re working on that part.” He met Jack’s wife, Mel, the local minister and the local doctor. Pretty soon Paul Haggerty wandered in. He was grinning when he asked Dan, “How’d this guy work out for you?”
“He did great,” Dan said. “Tough loss for Colorado Springs.”
“Colorado Springs?” Jack’s wife piped up. It felt like she shouted it across the bar. She left her children sitting at a table with their dinner and walked toward Conner. “My sister lives there! What part of Colorado Springs?”
He struggled for a second, then made something up. “Are you familiar with Breckenridge Park?”
“No,” she said. “My sister is on the northeast side of the city.”
“Breckenridge is southwest,” he said. “Kind of lonely out there… Not a lot of development…”
“But it’s so beautiful there. I almost moved there,” she said.
“But she married me,” Jack put in from behind the bar.
“But I married him,” Mel said with a smile. “And not only is Jack one of the best things that ever happened to me, so is this town. I hope you like it here.”
“Don’t push him, Mel,” Jack said. “He’s only been here a couple of days and it’s been kinda muddy.”
“I came here in March myself,” Mel said. “I wasn’t impressed. I slid off a road and had to be towed out, then the porch collapsed on the cabin where I was staying, I was soaked to the bone and this lughead kept saying, ‘Be patient—it’s so beautiful here.’” Her blue eyes twinkled. She put a hand on Conner’s arm. “Really, it is. Maybe not today, but we do have amazing days…and nights….”
“The thing that got to Mel,” Jack said to Conner, “she’d been in L.A. for ten years and when she came here, she’d never seen so many stars. Just look up on a clear night. We get used to it, even take it for granted, but it’s spectacular. But then…I bet Colorado Springs and the surrounding area gives you some wonderful views and skies.”
It brought to Conner’s mind the area east of Sacramento, in the Sierras, where the air was clean and the vistas breathtaking. He’d managed to get his nephews up on skis already. “Sure,” he said, fighting homesickness. He wanted his family back, his store, all the customers who had become friends. “It’s a good place, Colorado Springs,” he said. “I wouldn’t have left if there’d been work….”
Paul Haggerty hung out for a while, and he was as bad as Jack, introducing Conner to everyone who happened along. It wasn’t long before Mike Valenzuela stopped by and introduced himself, expressing his pleasure in meeting one of Brie’s old friends from college.
“Old friend from college?” Jack said in a booming voice. “You didn’t mention you knew my sister!”
“I had one whole semester of college,” Conner said. “We had two classes together, that’s it. When the company I worked for folded, I got in touch with everyone I knew, though Brie was a real long shot. She said she thought there was work here for someone like me. But it’s not like we’ve been in touch the last seventeen years….”
“Not even Christmas cards,” a female voice said from behind him. He turned to see Brie with a toddler on her hip. She let her down, and the little girl instantly ran to the table where Mel’s kids were having dinner. “But I’ll never forget Conner. He asked me out three times.”
“She said no three times,” he added.
Mike draped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I don’t blame you, man,” Mike said. “I hope you’re over her. I’m possessive.”
“I can see that,” Conner said. “No worries.”
“No kidding. A friend from college,” Jack said.
“I had a lot of friends, Jack. And you were pretty far away at that time,” Brie reminded him. “In fact, so was Mike. I met my husband when he came to Sacramento to see Jack. They were both still in the Marine Corps. But Mike and I didn’t get together until much later.”
There were a few more introductions. He had a good dinner of red beans with kielbasa and rice and a second beer. And when it was almost time to escape, he saw his chance to sneak a word with Brie.
“Hey,” he said a bit nervously and very quietly. “I think I just met the whole town.”
“Not even close,” she answered. “These are mostly the regulars and good friends.”
“It doesn’t feel that anonymous….”
“It is and it isn’t. The town is pretty anonymous as long as you don’t reach out using your real identity. See, these folks are used to meeting people like you—folks who come for a vacation or for work or to visit friends and family. And they’re not the kind of people who get on Facebook or Twitter. Just stick to your story and relax. You’re here for a job, you’re passing through, and since you won’t be putting down roots…”
“No one will email or call their cousin who lives next door to the man I’m testifying against?” he asked in a low voice.
She shook her head. “The D.A.’s detectives did an extensive background on the defendant. There’s always a chance of something burrowed under the surface, but the other great thing about this little town—strangers stand out like a sore thumb. Just like you can’t slip in and out of here without being noticed, neither can anyone else, like anyone who might be looking for you. We’re buried in the mountains, Conner. That’s why Max picked it for you.”
“Makes me a little nervous. I want to get to the trial so I can end this….”
“I know,” she said. “Believe me, I know.”
And then she came in—Leslie. It was as if the door opened and let spring inside—she was that pretty, that fresh. He wished it could be otherwise because this was going to be problematic, but he felt the instant attraction. Like a swelling in the chest, a lift in the heart, a beam in the eyes. If he were a single guy without complications and if she weren’t involved somewhere else, she would have been exactly the kind of woman he’d want to sit down and get to know.
“Well, it’s been a long day,” he said to Brie. “See you around.”
Conner knew he was as welcome as anyone in that construction trailer for a cup of coffee or maybe a little conversation, but he resisted. He packed a lunch and filled his own thermos of coffee back at his little cabin. The bathrooms were functional in the houses he was working on with Dan, and the weather was warming up and drying out.
It was Leslie he avoided for the first two weeks he worked for Paul Haggerty. Every time he saw her he found her even prettier than the day before. Her dark eyes, so unusual on her fair face with light hair, twinkled when she smiled, and her laugh was as sweet as a melody. When he was around her, though seldom, he enjoyed her bright mood. Yet he had a dark streak of disapproval—the “Sunday-school teacher” was messing with a married man. Not something that gave him a warm flush of desire for her. But he couldn’t deny it—he was attracted.
Still, there were things he couldn’t help but like about her. Her sense of humor, for one thing. She made all the guys laugh, even when she was barking orders at them. Even Conner, who hadn’t been a real happy-go-lucky kind of guy lately, found himself smiling. Despite her feminine appearance, she ran a tight ship. She insisted people wipe their feet, clean their coffee mugs, and although she was one woman among many men, God help the one who left the toilet seat up!
After a couple of weeks he was starting to feel the strain of his solitary life. Trying to go low-profile caused him to act aloof and unconnected. Sometimes he went to Jack’s for a beer and dinner after work, but more often he drove down the mountain to Fortuna. He’d get groceries and something easy from a deli for dinner in his cabin. Occasionally he’d try a different restaurant or stop at a diner or coffee shop. And he’d always sit in his truck in the parking lot where his cell reception was good and have a conversation with Katie before she and the boys went to bed. He had to call them early—Katie was on eastern time.
That always sent a pang of sadness through him, that she liked to sleep to avoid long, lonely evenings. His beautiful sister should be among friends, should have a boyfriend. That he was lonely didn’t really matter. He couldn’t stand to think of Katie that way.
After talking to Katie on Saturday afternoon, he decided on a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. There was Starbucks, but he liked that place where he’d met Brie—a gaudy, girlie, turquoise place filled with fragile-looking furniture he was afraid to sit on. He always chose to sit up at the counter on a sturdy stool. Once there, he ordered his coffee and pie.
And she came in. Leslie. She didn’t notice him. She was wearing some kind of leotard thing under her coat, and her hair looked kind of all over the place. And she did what she did best, laughed with the man behind the coffee bar who served her. They laughed as if they were best friends. Then she took her tall iced tea and her small muffin and went over to one of those delicate-looking miniature couches and settled in to check the messages on her cell phone. She must do as so many mountain residents did—check messages and return calls when and where there was reception.
Conner raised one finger as he would in a bar, and the guy came over. “Can I have that coffee and pie to go?” he said.
“Sure,” the young blond guy said. “Everything all right?”
“Perfect. I’ve got a roasted chicken in the truck and I’m going to take it home and nuke it for dinner, then chase it with the key lime.” He tried out a smile.
“Sounds lovely.” And the man turned to get a paper cup and plastic carton of key lime pie.
“Conner?”
Damn. She was standing right beside him. He looked into her eyes, caught that delicious smile and thought, Crap. It zinged him. Gave him a little shock of awareness in all his male parts. “Hi,” he said.
“What a surprise. I never expected to run into someone from Virgin River here. There’s a yoga studio around the corner. I love yoga. I come at least twice a week.”
So that explained the leotard. “I don’t know anything about yoga,” he admitted.
She laughed, genuinely amused. “I’d be kind of surprised if you did. Grab your coffee and join me.”
“I probably better not.”
“Oh?” she asked. “You have plans?”
He was struck speechless. How did you answer that? There’d been a time Conner, as Danny, had been pretty smooth with women. He’d known how to charm them or how to at least get a phone number, but it had been a long time since he’d had a woman other than his sister in his life. This lying about everything wasn’t easy for him—he was used to shooting straight from the hip. With Leslie it was even more complicated—he found her attractive, and she was doing the boss. “I just don’t want to get in the middle of anything.”
“In the middle…?” She frowned. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“You know,” he said, giving a shrug. “Your…relationship.”
“What relationship? I’m single.”
His brow furrowed. “Right,” he said.
She continued to frown; her eyes had narrowed. “What relationship?” she demanded.
“Well…I… Looked like maybe you and the boss…” That was as much as he got out. “It’s none of my business.” And he thought, I’ll be dead in a month, as terrible as I am at lying, at covering up.
She was still frowning. The blond guy behind the coffee bar put Conner’s coffee and pie on the counter. “Grab your coffee and come with me,” she said. And allowing for no discussion or refusal, she turned and walked away, expecting him to follow.
“Crap,” he muttered. Then he let out a breath and did as she said. She sat down on a little bitty couch with spindly legs, and opposite was a chair with equally skinny, curvy legs. He looked down at her, pie in one hand and coffee in the other. “I don’t know, Leslie. I don’t think I should sit on that.”
“It’s stronger than it looks. Sit,” she commanded. And he did so. “Paul is an old friend,” she said. “I worked for his family in Oregon for ten years. I was trying to relocate but didn’t have a new job, and he offered me one here. There is nothing the least bit inappropriate between us.”
“Okay. Like I said, none of my business anyway,” he said, standing to escape.
“Sit.”
He did as she told him.
“Why would you assume something like that about me?”
“I…” He made a face. “The first night I was in town, I was at that little bar and you and Paul… Well, I didn’t know who either of you were, but he had his arm around you. Kissed you. It looked like maybe you were crying or something. You had a drink and left together. Like a couple.”
She was quiet for a moment, her lips pursed. “What nerve,” she said.
“Hey, you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s nothing to me.”
“Listen to me. Carefully. I was married while I worked for Haggerty Construction in Grants Pass. My husband and I divorced and he moved on very quickly. Actually, he moved on before we were divorced. He remarried right away, got his new wife pregnant. He’s going to be a father. And me? Why of course I get to be friends with the charming couple. He would probably even like me to be the baby’s godmother. I would have gone to hell to get out of there. This job was a lifesaver. Paul was a lifesaver. I might’ve been emotional about that.”
Conner was quiet for a long moment, and then, inexplicably, he smiled. “Seriously?”
“Which part?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea.
“He wanted you to be friends with his new wife?”
“Yes. And be so happy for them.”
“Wow,” he said, still smiling. “What balls.”
She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Well. He was so fucking civil even my parents thought I should just get over it. Sorry—I don’t usually use that word.”
“Sounds kind of apropos where the ex is concerned.”
“You have no idea. I couldn’t get away from them in that town. Paul was very sweet to help me out. I can’t remember crying or getting kissed in Jack’s Bar, but—”
“It looked kind of…cozy. Like maybe he was the boyfriend and the two of you were having some kind of…misunderstanding. And you have such a close— I guess I don’t have much of an imagination, I could only think of one possibility.”
“It’s a very rude and unflattering assumption to make about a woman. The last thing I would ever do is get involved with a married man.”
“Hey, I apologize. I’m really sorry about what you’re going through, but it makes a lot more sense that I’d think you were a couple than that the boss is comforting you because your ex…” He chuckled and rubbed a hand over his goatee. “Wants to be friends, does he? Wow. And I take it you don’t feel like being friends?”
She glared at him. Her eyes were mere slits. “I feel like killing him, but the hell of it is, I’d probably grieve him. And pay for his funeral. I used to love him. And now I completely hate him, but not enough.”
“Shew,” Conner said. “I get that.”
“You do?”
“I’m divorced. I didn’t like it too much, either,” he said. “And we’re never going to be friends.” And Leslie’s anger at the very idea that she would mess with a married man—this was going to make fighting the attraction a lot tougher.
“I’m thirty-two,” she said. “People tell me how young I am, but I’ve had a little trouble with passing thirty, ending an eight-year marriage, feeling like I’m starting my life over at this age. I didn’t mind starting my life at twenty-two, but at thirty-two? Not so happy about it. And I highly resent the circumstances. To be frank, I’m not real happy that you pegged me as a cheater. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to jump to conclusions?”
“Didn’t I apologize?” he asked. “I might be a little cynical. I’m thirty-five and I’m not real happy about starting over, either. Job gone, divorced, relocated, et cetera.”
“With how many of the guys at work did you share your speculation about Paul and me?” she asked.
“No one. I don’t gossip,” he said, his heavy brows drawing together in a frown. “Look, I don’t blame you for being offended, but could you lighten up? I didn’t mean to—”
They both turned to look as someone cleared his throat. The blond barista behind the counter was glaring at them. “I like to close by six,” he said. “Do you suppose you could take the argument to Starbucks?”
As Leslie and Conner left the coffee shop, he asked, “All right, are we straight now? You accept my apology?”
“Probably. But I admit, it bothers me. It makes me wonder how many other people assume there’s more to my relationship with Paul Haggerty than a very long-term, very proper friendship.”
“Listen, I’m a little cynical,” Conner said. “Sometimes it’s not easy.”
“Get over it,” she said, opening her car door.
“I’ll work on that. And I’ll be behind you on the way back up the mountain. Not too close, but close enough to make sure you get back to town all right.”
“I don’t need an escort,” she said.
“I’m sure you’re extremely capable, but I happen to live there.” And he closed her door after she was seated. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Hardheaded enough?”
Leslie drove back to Virgin River with Conner’s lights behind her at a respectable distance.
For Leslie, it had been over eighteen months since she’d even entertained the notion of a man in her life. She’d been grieving and damning Greg Adams, the happy-go-lucky ex, all that time. She’d been void of desire. In fact she had made up her mind that it would be a very long time before she’d let a man get close, if ever, because only a fool wouldn’t be afraid to trust a man again. It would risk a broken heart. The very idea that someone thought she’d settle for a married man bit deep.
The kind of guy in her very distant future had not resembled Paul Haggerty in any way; Paul was more like a brother to her. Now Conner Danson… That was another story. If he wasn’t such an ass, he would be irresistible.
This surprised her. Conner was nothing like the kind of man who had attracted her before. He was nothing like Greg, which should have probably recommended him, except for that ass thing. There was also the fact that Leslie was determined to paste her confidence back together without the assistance of a man.
Greg had been, still was, movie-star pretty with dark hair, beautiful hazel eyes flecked with gold, a trim build with strong shoulders and arms and a smile that made girls tremble. He was fussy about what he wore and drove, and his two primary goals in life were to be rich and prominent. Leslie suspected his new lawyer wife had tipped him on how to rat-hole some money because he still looked pretty well-off despite escaping alimony, and while they’d been married, he’d always brought home enough money to afford all the things he wanted.
During their eight-year marriage, she’d gotten used to women flirting with him, yet she’d never doubted his fidelity, never. Greg had been amused by flirtation; clearly he enjoyed it, but it never seemed as though he’d act on it. A very attractive waitress once wrote her phone number on the check, even though they were dining together. He had looked at it, laughed, crumpled it and said, “As if.”
Conner was a whole different kind of guy. Pretty hardly described him—Conner was taller, broader, stronger. He didn’t have those classic good looks but rather willful brown hair that he kept short, a square jaw, crystal-blue eyes that peered suspiciously from behind thick lashes. He had a cute dimple in his left cheek and a nice smile, though not a frequent one, and he could effect a powerful scowl. The mustache and goatee gave him a mysterious air; he stroked it as if he wasn’t quite used to it. He was much more rugged than Greg, but then he was a construction worker and he looked like one—jeans and steel-toed boots and a ton of testosterone. She’d seen him wearing the tool belt and even though she’d been around a million tool belts, he’d worn his especially well. He looked, frankly, as if he could tear the door off a car if he needed to.
Leslie had worked around construction workers for the past ten years, and, while they came in all shapes and sizes, there was something about Conner that gave her shivers. She couldn’t put her finger on it. It might be the way he couldn’t seem to lie or cover up; what passed through his brain shot out of his mouth. He thought she was doing the boss and couldn’t just act as if he didn’t notice? She’d been watching him around the job; she couldn’t help it. He would be almost somber until something amused him, and then his face lit up—same reaction, his feelings kind of bubbled to the surface. He couldn’t seem to hide his stunned amusement that a guy would divorce, remarry, knock up his new wife and expect the ex-wife to be okay with it all. What balls. Very straightforward. Uncomplicated. Yes, that was it—he seemed uncomplicated. After Greg, that was so inviting.
Oh, man, the last thing she needed was to get attracted to some construction worker who was temporary at best.
Then her eyes widened. Maybe the best thing in the world would be a temporary construction worker. No expectations. No disappointments. No one to get in the way of her mission to rebuild her confidence and self-esteem.
Conner followed Leslie at a distance so as not to blind her with the headlights of his truck in her rearview mirror. And he thought—boy, was she pissed. That was probably a good thing because he should really get over it, the attraction. He’d been warned by Brie, no relationships during this hiatus.
But the more sense he talked into himself, the more he wanted to get closer to that tough, hardheaded broad. The more he wanted her, in every physical way. Stupid idea. His life was just too complicated.
