Sunrise Point (Virgin River #19)(74)

“Yeah,” Coop said.

Jack slanted a narrow-eyed look at Preacher, who always surprised him. “Avail yourself?”

“You know—help yourself…”

“I know what it means,” Jack said.

“So, the deal is,” Coop went on, “sometimes I get a reputation. Not always a fair one, but still. So what I do, just to make sure I can always bail myself out if I have to or get work again if I need to—I keep some records. Documentation.”

“Very smart. I keep records, too,” Preacher said, scraping.

“Get yourself in a lot of tight spots, do you?”

“I prefer to think of myself as a man of principle. So, I made a few copies of things from way back. There’s an envelope in my truck that I’d like to transfer to your truck. It might make for interesting late-night reading. It’s a record of my arrest, the results of a brief investigation, my release and honorable discharge. I did very good work for the Army, but to say the Army wasn’t sorry to see me go would be an understatement.” He gave a shrug. “It’s been said I have trouble with authority.”

Jack frowned slightly. “Why didn’t you explain that sooner? That you have the proof?”

“For starters, I didn’t know your name. I never forget a face, however. You don’t look that much different than you did fifteen years ago.” Jack stood a little taller. “Except for the gray,” Coop said, brushing his fingers through his own brown hair, right at the temples.

“And you were doing so well…” Jack said. Then he added, “For starters?”

“I kept records, but it rubs me the wrong way to have to prove myself. To anyone. What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“That pride get in your way much?” Jack asked.

“Sometimes that’s all a man’s got.”

“Well, I’d be happy to take that envelope off your hands. And can I just say, that’s a good thing you did. For Luke and for me—you might be passing through, but we’re staying here. We don’t need bad blood between us, me and Luke.”

“That’s the thing—this place is growing on me. I might sit out some time here. And we might never be friends, you and I.”

Jack gave a shrug. “Just so we’re not enemies.”

“Yeah,” Coop said, running a hand around the back of his neck. “But just so you know, you pretty much irritate the shit outta me.”

“Is that a fact?”

“You’re such a goddamn know-it-all…”

Both men looked suddenly at Preacher to find him grinning like a kid. “You’ll find that kind of comes and goes… .” He gave a chuckle. “You’ll like him better after you take some money off him at poker. He hardly ever wins.”

“Funny,” Jack said. Then to Coop he said, “Come on, let’s go get that envelope before the crowds descend.”

After tossing the envelope in his truck, Jack turned to Coop and stuck out a hand. “You irritate me, too. We might as well shake on it.”

Cooper took the hand. And he laughed.

* * *

Tom was up before 5:00 a.m. and the first sound he heard was that of Junior pulling a flatbed past the house with the smallest tractor. The jingling sound it made as it rode by was the telltale jingling of metal fence posts. He pulled on his jacket and boots and said, “Crap!”

It didn’t take him long to find not only Junior sitting atop the tractor, motor running like he might make a fast getaway, but the black, furry rumps of four bears ambling away from the orchard. Mother and her triplets. They were almost a hundred yards away before Junior turned off the motor.

Tom was on foot. “Did you run them off?” he asked.

“Yup. I saw one in a tree and went for the tractor. I’m going to put a post every two feet on this section now,” Junior said.

“I’ll help. You get coffee yet?”

“I don’t need coffee to wake up. I’m pissed. That got my motor running.”

By the time the fence was double repaired and half the orchard chores done, it was noon. Right now the last thing he felt like doing was spending a day with a bunch of little kids at a party on a farm, but he’d made a commitment. He’d be late to Nora’s; a shower and shave was absolutely necessary. By the time he made it to her house, it was twelve-thirty. And he was exhausted.

But the second he saw her, he felt a little surge of energy.

“Sorry,” he said. “I meant to be on time”

“Oh, Tom, please don’t apologize—it’s all right. Would you like us to go in separate cars?”

“Why?”

She gave a shrug. “Maybe you don’t want to give the impression that we’re, you know…”

“Friends?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said and unconsciously brushed her lips with her fingers.

“We’ll take your car so we don’t have to move car seats to mine. I’m going to throw the chairs in the trunk.”

“With the stroller, please?”

In the backseat, Berry chanted, “Punkin, punkin, punkin, punkin.”

Soon the blanket was spread on a grassy spot not far from the big Victorian and Berry was pulling at Nora’s hand, begging to go see the pumpkins. Someone had hooked up a few ponies for rides for the kids and there was a line for apple bobbing—apples compliments of Cavanaugh’s, brought earlier by Maxie.