Angel's Peak (Virgin River #10)(35)

“We switch off on light days like Sunday afternoons. Mel has a long list of honey-do’s for him.” Preacher leaned on the bar. “It’ll be nice to see Cheryl. Don’t see enough of her around here.”

Dan looked up at the big man somewhat apologetically. “I doubt she’ll come in and visit, Preach. Since she found sobriety, she likes to stay away from the memories of her hard-drinking days.”

“Yeah, I get that. Our loss, though.”

“She’s planning to face a big memory today,” Dan said. “If she doesn’t change her mind. She’s coming to town to look at her old house. She’s only been inside a couple of times since she left for treatment a long time ago. She’s going to have a look today and, if she likes the shape it’s in, she’ll be talking to a real estate agent about selling it.”

“Then what’ll you do for a place to hang that Shady Brady of yours?”

“I’ll find another place nearby. I work around here—you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

They were silent a moment. Preacher was thinking. You could always tell when he was concentrating; his heavy black brows knit together, his eyes narrowed, his jaw ground a little. Then he came out with it. “Maybe sometime you can tell Cheryl from me that it stands to reason she’d think about those hard days a lot, but she probably thinks about it way more than anyone else does. Folks around here, we mostly think about how amazing she is, whether she comes around to visit or not. We’re all real proud of her, real happy for her. She’s good people. You tell her that, if you ever get the chance.”

“I’ll do that, Preach,” he said. And he thought, Preacher’s one sweet dude.

Preacher put a thermos coffeepot on the bar. “I’ll be in the back. I’m making pies.”

Dan pulled out his wallet.

“Pah, forget about it,” Preacher said. “It’s just a cup of coffee between friends, man.” And then he was gone.

A few minutes later the door to the bar swung open and Cheryl said, “I’m here, Dan. I’m ready.”

He turned to look at her and smiled. She just got prettier all the time. He walked out of the bar with her, holding her hand. “I walked over—let’s jump in your truck,” he said. “Want me to drive?”

She handed him her keys and got in the passenger side.

“Still want to do this?” he asked her, when they were both in her truck.

Cheryl nodded. Cheryl had grown up in the house and it was one of many things she left behind when she moved away from Virgin River. She also left her morbid childhood, her alcoholism, her bad reputation and her perpetual failure. Her sense of hopelessness fled when she met Dan Brady. “Turns out I can do a lot of things when I’m with you.”

For a break on the rent, Dan had been renovating and upgrading her house. She’d seen it exactly one time since Dan had moved in, and that had been a mere month after she’d handed him the key. It had been greatly improved from the miserable dump it was in that short month, but she hadn’t been able to force herself to look at it again. Just walking through the door, even if it was changed and improved, was a fearful prospect for her. It brought back so many horrible memories. Cheryl had spent close to fifteen years mostly in a drunken stupor. And she wasn’t an ordinary drunk; she had been the town drunk.

As for Dan, he had his own ghosts. They were just different ones. He’d been a grower; he’d done prison time.

“You don’t have to do this,” Dan told her, holding her hand. “You can slap a for-sale sign on it without even going inside. The Realtor can give you a good idea what it should sell for with all the improvements.”

“I can do it,” she said. “I want to see it.”

“Are you sure, Cheryl? Because I want us to go forward. There’s no reason we ever have to be stuck in the past. Our pasts—we beat ’em. We just have to keep a green memory so we don’t walk back that way.”

She turned and smiled tenderly at him. She squeezed his hand. “I’ve been sober a year and change,” she said. “I feel good. My worst day sober is so much better than my best day drunk. I want to see the house, sell it, make a life with you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Then let’s do it,” he said.

They’d been together for more than six months. They were taking it real slow, one baby step at a time. They’d spent their first whole night together just a few weeks ago and now the long-term plan was to sell her house, begin building a new one on the edge of Virgin River. Since the lot they’d picked out wasn’t in town, Cheryl wouldn’t have to go in unless she wanted to. The decision to build there had more to do with Dan’s work needs than her preferences. Since going to work for Paul, his life had turned around completely. His income and benefits were excellent, but his days started early and ended late. There was also lots of overtime, which meant money in the bank. Living close to work would be an advantage for him.

They pulled up in front of the house and Dan got out and walked around the truck and opened the door for her. She put her hand in his as they walked up to the solid porch of a pretty little house. He opened the new front door and let her enter first. He had spent more than six months completely rebuilding her house so she could sell it and move on, and he was proud of his work. He couldn’t wait for Cheryl to see it.