Hidden Summit (Virgin River #17)(67)

“Where are you from?” Leslie asked.

“Berkeley. I lived there from the time I was ten—left three years ago when I was pregnant with Berry. Where are you from?” she asked.

“Grants Pass, Oregon. My boss, Paul Haggerty, worked there with his father and brothers for years, then came down here to open another arm of their construction company. I came down to work for him. Mainly to get away from my ex-husband.”

“He’s abusive?”

Leslie’s brows shot up. “Not at all!” she said too quickly. Then she realized why Nora might have made that assumption. “Let me rephrase that. No, Greg is not abusive in the usual sense of the word. He’s self-centered and egotistical and manipulative, but in the nicest possible way. He wants us to be best friends—even though he remarried right away and his new wife is pregnant. I just want him to go away!” She pulled the sweet little bundle closer. “I take it yours was…abusive?”

“He’s an addict. He was a minor league ballplayer when I met him. He had big dreams of the major league, but he tinkered with drugs. I tinkered, too—I have to own that. But I got pregnant and stopped the second I suspected. But Chad indulged. He got caught, of course, and was dropped from the league. Then he really bottomed out and pretty much took me down with him.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“No idea. Hopefully gone back to the Berkeley or Oakland area where he had all his old drug connections. I just need to never see him again. But you—you have a new man in your life,” she said.

“Conner,” Leslie confirmed. “He’s away—attending to some family business. It’s giving him a chance to visit his sister and nephews. He’s enjoying that a lot—he’s very close to them.”

“When will he be back?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but hopefully in a week or so. Maybe two weeks. He hasn’t seen his sister in a long time. But I talk to him every day.” She snuggled Fay a little closer. “You’re right about this one—a real snuggle bug.”

“I had no crib for her, so I barely put her down. The three of us sleep together, all cozy.”

“That sounds kind of wonderful,” Leslie said.

“Isn’t it amazing how some of your biggest blunders can end up being the best thing that ever happened to you?” Nora asked. And she gazed lovingly at little Berry, who sat on the grass between the flower beds, picking at the grass and making sounds that seemed to be a two-year-old’s version of singing.

“I have an idea,” Leslie said. “How would you and the girls like to ride into Fortuna on Saturday? Just wander around, maybe do a little shopping? Go to the big park?”

“That’s so sweet, but I don’t have car seats. Pastor Kincaid keeps his eye open for some to be donated to the church for one of their rummage sales. He says when and if that happens, he’ll snag them for me. Until then…”

“Well then, I think we should see if either Martha or Adie or both of them can babysit for a few hours,” Leslie suggested. “It might be good for you to have a break, get out of town for a while.”

“Maybe I could leave the girls with one of them during their nap time. I’ll ask…if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Leslie said. “Not only would I enjoy the company, it would give you something fun to do. Let me know if you can rope those ladies into sitting for a while!”

Sixteen

Leslie found herself hoping that Nora would be outside with her children when she came home from work. She’d love to wave to her—three doors down the street—and invite her for a glass of tea. She’d offer to hold the baby for her bottle....

Instead, there was a shiny Caddy parked in front of her house, and she groaned.

“Crap,” she said aloud. “What now?”

She quickly considered her options. She could go to Jack’s and wait him out. She could drive out to Paul and Vanni’s house and get herself some backup. Fortuna was an option—she could just go to a restaurant, shop, kill time. But she wasn’t afraid of Greg—she was simply sick of him! So she pulled into her drive and got out of the car.

He wasn’t waiting in his car but on the porch, sitting in one of those canvas chairs, the collar of his white dress shirt open and his sleeves rolled up. And she didn’t recognize his expression. It was odd. Maybe sad. Possibly contrite. Neither was an expression that was familiar to her.

When she stepped away from her car, he stood. He put his hand up, palm toward her. “Don’t shoot me with anything. I just came to talk. Not argue, just talk.”

She approached the porch. “You’re not coming inside,” she said with as much authority as she could muster.

“Fine. Will you sit out here and talk to me for a few minutes?”

“How did you find my house?”

“I’ve been down here a couple of times before. It’s a little town, and I spotted your car in the drive. I also spotted a great big construction worker’s truck parked on the street. I finally decided I had to brave the new boyfriend if I wanted to talk to you.”

“You didn’t think approaching me at work again was a good idea?”

“Paul seemed kind of opposed to that notion the last time I ran into him,” Greg said.