Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(107)

It made Joe laugh. “Is that a fact?”

Jack sipped his coffee. “I’ve worn that look a couple of times.”

“I must not have been around,” Joe said.

“You might’ve been. Mel made me work pretty damn hard for her. It was excruciating. Excuse me—I have to load up the family. I stay late now that Paige is so close. Mel has to take the kids home, get them in bed.”

“I’ll help,” he said.

They got Mel and the little ones settled in the truck. Jack leaned in the window to kiss her and Joe was overcome with longing. This was torture, watching his best friends, his brothers, with their women. By the end of a hunt, they were talking about getting home to their beautiful, lush, ripe women, bringing them children and love. Joe hadn’t been so worried about the fact that he hadn’t found this yet until recently, until he held a woman that made him feel that full, that in love, and immediately lost her.



Vanni loved her house plans. She was animated and full of life, and in that, very affectionate toward Joe. If he was reading her right, she was forgiving Joe’s dalliance with her best friend. The general got into the mix, making suggestions, arguing with his daughter about what she should be doing differently. Joe was good at this sort of thing—he listened while they batted around ideas and waited until the dust settled. Then he could step in with one minor adjustment and bring the whole thing together.

For Vanni and Paul, Joe designed a larger version of Paul’s house, but with changes that although slight, gave it a different appearance altogether, so it didn’t look like a copy and was better suited for a growing family. The features they loved were there—the wide hallways, spacious rooms, high ceilings, large garage. And it had to have more bedrooms—Paul was going to fill her with babies.

He spent the night in the cabin, then in the morning he drove out to Jack’s property—to the parcel he’d given to Brie and Mike. It wasn’t far from Jack’s—they’d extended his road another quarter of a mile to their homesite. Paul had already set up shop and was hiring construction crew, quite successfully. He had the requisite trailer for his office and a Porta Potty for his crews. Now that there were plans, Paul could have the foundation poured. The septic tank would go in and the well dug. Then the plumbing and frame and wiring. “Then it’s game on,” Joe said. “Let’s go walk your property at the general’s,” he said.

This, too, was ready to move. The first order of business was the grading of the road, which would be a three-quarter-mile stretch, but no major excavation would be required, no trees to bring down. In ball cap and jeans, Joe paced off the perimeters of the foundation and pounded in some temporary stakes with red flags on them. He took a can of spray paint and outlined the house on the ground, bringing it up close enough to the river for a nice backyard view from a deck, far enough away to avoid problems with possible flooding. “I have indoor sprinklers in the design, which I recommend, but understand that in a wildfire, they aren’t going to do the job. It’s a precaution for a home fire.”

“I understand,” Paul said.

“You can pour both foundations at the same approximate time. Do Brie and Mike’s first, since they have a bun in the oven, then get over here and pour yours. You can get started on the extension at the bar and as soon as Preacher’s baby is a couple of weeks old, we can relocate them to the cabin. We’ll tear out some walls—and you should move fast on that one to keep the bar working. You can stagger your crews—move the framers from the Valenzuelas’ property to this property, et cetera.”

“I’ve built more than one house at a time.” Paul smiled.

“I know. Just talking,” he said, smiling back.

“We’re going to need finalized architectural drawings,” Paul said.

“Two weeks?” Joe asked.

“Perfect,” Paul said, sticking out his hand. “I’ll order concrete.”

Joe shook it. “Pleasure doing business with you. I’m going to head out.”

“You want to say goodbye to Vanni?”

“Tell her I said goodbye and thank-you, would you?”

“You know, this is probably none of my business—but this thing we’re not talking about? It might help your case a little if you could just tell Vanni you’re sorry.”

Joe shook his head in a silent laugh, looking down. He put his hands in his pockets. “I couldn’t do that, pal,” he said. “Not honestly.” He took a breath. “The only thing I’m sorry about is how it turned out.”

Paul was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “Gotcha.”



Vanni had nursed the baby and put him down for the night. She heard her dad walk down the hall to his room at about nine-thirty, but her husband didn’t come to bed. Finally she went to the great room to see if he was hooked on something on television. She found him sitting forward in a chair, his elbows on his knees, a drink in his hands.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He sat back and patted the chair beside him. “Thinking.”

“Is it keeping you up?” she asked, sitting.

He gave her a wan smile. “Do you know how great my life is? How happy I am?”

She put her hand on his knee. “You’ve done a real good job of making sure I do, Paul. I’m just as happy.”