Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(39)

“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.