She was brave. She’d always been brave. “I’ll be honest—I’ve been giving a lot of thought to not going to court—”

“Your woman,” she said immediately.

He just grunted. “Not her. Me. But she’s like you. I haven’t told her anything, but she’d expect me to do the right thing even though it might cost her in the end.”

“I like her,” Katie said.

“I’m in a good place. I don’t know where you are emotionally, but I’m in a sweet little town off the grid. I want you and the boys here.”

Dead silence filled the space in the conversation.

“Katie?”

“Because of the new girlfriend?” she asked softly.

“No, honey. Because of the town. Because of the kind of place it is, because of the people. The woman might not even be here long. But this is the place to settle. I feel more strongly about that every day. The only downside is—it limits your prospects for a new man in your life. But the boys would do well here. And it would be easier to keep a close eye on them and you.”

Again, silence.

“Katie?”

“Little complication,” she said. She took a deep breath. “I think I have a crush on the dentist.”

“You mentioned that before....”

“Yeah, but… Seriously.”

“Are you involved?” he asked.

“Not romantically, not yet. But we spend more and more time together and gosh, Danny… Oops, sorry. Conner. I like him so much. He wants the same things I want—a stable home, kids, family. He’s so sweet and smart and ethical. I think he’s trying to maintain a professional relationship, but I swear if he even leans toward me like he wouldn’t mind being kissed, I’m going to devour him. I’m sorry, but I am.”

“This is happening at work?” Conner asked.

“At work, after work, at lunch and we’ve done a little extra time on the weekends. He’s wonderful with the boys. He’s gone to some of their soccer games, and they think he’s so much fun. I cooked him dinner one night. He had us over for hot dogs and burgers on the grill one Sunday afternoon.”

And now the silence was his.

She was in Vermont. Could she get any farther away? And they had both met people of interest, to put it lightly. Of course, she was working up a crush while he was in all the way, though he had no idea the degree in which Leslie was committed.

“Danny?” she whispered.

“Yeah. Here.”

Those boys meant the world to him. Hell, Katie meant the world! When their mother died, Conner had tried to fill the gap. When their father died, Conner had tried to be both mother and father to her. Katie’s husband hadn’t even seen the boys enter the world, but Conner had been there, at the hospital, spending the night there to help his sister with these newborn twins when they’d been less than a day old.

“I was kind of fantasizing you’d come here,” she said. “I really like it here. I know, I know—we couldn’t get farther apart and be in the same country.”

He laughed. “We could if you were in Florida.”

“Maybe this will work out....”

He’d always known that this could happen one day. He hadn’t expected it to happen like this, with Katie moving away and meeting the man of her dreams because he was an eyewitness in a crime. But he’d always known she could fall in love with a man who could take her away, making the end result the same. And by damn, she deserved to fall in love again! Her short marriage to Charlie had been filled with intense love lost too soon.

“It’ll work out, honey,” he said.

No matter what he had to do, it would work out.

Ten

When the kitchen remodel work was finished on the house Dan and Conner had been concentrating on for the past two weeks, Conner volunteered to drive over the mountain to Paul’s new office location to pick up the specs for the next job he wanted them to tackle. The trailer sat on the property for the big custom job; the foundation had been poured, the house was framed and huge.

Inside the trailer he found Paul, not in his office but perched on a sawhorse at the big plywood-fashioned table, his laptop and a lot of paper spread out. And the look on his face was, frankly, frustrated. “What’s up, boss?” Conner asked.

“Fixtures, that’s what. I’ve got a big renovation in Clear River and I don’t know how I can make the owner happy and bring it in on budget. They have pictures from Architecture Monthly—top-of-the-line stuff—and I can’t find most of it at builder’s cost anywhere.”

“Let me see,” Conner said.

Paul handed over magazine cutouts.

Ah. This was what Conner did. He sold to custom builders. He looked at the pictures. “Nice. Monticello brass. Tuscan accents. Brushed nickel faucets, I like that. But this brass basin? I’d try to talk them out of that if I were you—pretty, but a godawful pain in the butt to keep from spotting. I don’t like brass around water so much, but I’ll be the first to admit it’s classy. Brass accents is one thing, but… Hmm, and nice lighting—this shouldn’t be hard. You wouldn’t think Italian accents would work in a mountain house, but in thinking about it…perfect. Let me use the laptop a second, I think I know where we can find some of this stuff. Manufacturer prices.”

“Really?” Paul said, turning his computer toward Conner.

“I’ll try. I know some wholesalers who carry some of this stuff, or damn close replicas.” He did a search, and in minutes he found the widespread faucets, the chandeliers, the spigots and showerheads, the cupboard knobs and handles. He scribbled down the order codes and prices. He launched into one item after another, found them, wrote down the specs. Some items were tougher than others—some weren’t available at cost. “Try this alternative on the client—it’s good quality, equal in value and, if you ask me, a fine-looking showerhead. Might even be better—it’s a Koen and comes with a kick-ass lifetime guarantee.” And he went on, through the kitchen and a few bathrooms, finding the actual items or good alternatives at even better prices.

“How’d you do that?” Paul asked.

“Paul, it’s what I do. Kitchens and bathrooms.”

“Yeah, but you do it like a contractor, not a finisher.”

“The boss relied on me a lot. This is the kind of stuff I looked into all the time. Good hardware and contractors’ prices.”

“Thanks,” Paul said, staring at a sheet of paper with lots of prices, order numbers and internet addresses. “Next time I’m not going to waste so much time. I’ll just call you.”

“Absolutely,” Conner said. “I’d be happy to help.”

Paul looked at him a bit oddly. “Sometimes I think there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Conner laughed. “You have no idea. Do you have the specs for the next kitchen job? Dan and I will get started tomorrow if the owners are ready.”

“Right here,” Paul said, handing over some rolled-up architectural plans. “You’ll tear out the existing kitchen in the next two to three days, get your flooring, raw cabinetry, granite cut to size, hardware and fixtures delivered over the next ten days. Make it happen.”

“Big job,” Conner said, looking through the plans.

“Good bid, too. We want to be on time. If you need help, let me know and I’ll send over extra crew. I want these folks happy. They have a lot of friends.”

“You bet.”

“And, Conner, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

Conner lifted his eyebrows.

“Leslie,” Paul said. “She’s not here right now. She’s gone to Eureka for supplies for the office. But I wanted to talk to you about her.”

Conner thought for a minute and then said, “Shoot.”

Paul took a breath. Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy for him. “I like you. Brie vouches for you. Dan says you’re a good worker and conscientious. Dan trusts you and he’s a hard sell. I don’t have any reason to doubt you or suspect you, so it’s not about that. But Les has been almost a part of the family for ten years and she’s been through a lot lately. I don’t want her to go through a lot more.”

Conner gave a short nod. Word traveled fast; no surprise there. “Perfectly understandable. But you should talk to her, not me. Tell her what worries you, because I’m not looking to complicate anyone’s life.”

One corner of Paul’s mouth curved. “She seems happy.”

Conner almost smiled. “How about me? Do I seem happy?”

Paul laughed. “I couldn’t read you if my life depended on it.”

“Let me ask you something. Don’t read anything into this, but when you were dating your wife, did a lot of people question you? Have a lot of opinions about your motives and behavior? Your intentions? Before you were even sure yourself?”

That brought a really big laugh out of Paul. “Yeah,” he said. “Everybody and their brother. And have you met my father-in-law?” He shook his head with another laugh. He stood and stuck out a hand. “Good luck, buddy.”

Conner took the hand. “Thanks. I think.”

“Don’t mess her up.”

“She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’s real fragile or neurotic. In fact, I think she’s the most normal woman I’ve dated. Ever.”

“I just hope you’re the most normal guy she’s ever dated,” Paul told him. “Because I met the last one, and she’s due a normal guy.”

April disappeared with a shower, and May arrived in the mountains with enough glowing sun to set the roadsides and hills on fire with color as the wildflowers took over. Conner borrowed Luke Riordan’s Harley and took Leslie on a ride through the hills one Sunday afternoon. They rode through the mountains out to the ocean cliffs, through the redwoods and down through vineyards.

They stopped for a while on a hilltop to enjoy a breathtaking view, but the view only occupied them for a little while, and soon they were reclined on the grass, making out like teenagers.

“You’re tempting,” he told her. “I could get you na**d right here, but there’d be a risk.”

“Oh?”

“Well, there’s a road for one thing. We could get into each other, like we do, and not hear an approaching car or truck until it’s too late. Or, we could get fire ants in our underwear and really pay.”

“Let’s stop at the grocery, get a couple of filets, two potatoes, some mushrooms and asparagus and go home. You can grill the steak and asparagus and I’ll be in charge of the potatoes and mushrooms.”

“Deal,” he said, standing and helping her up.

Later, when they were enjoying an after-dinner libation—her Merlot and his beer—she said, “I hope this doesn’t scare you, but I can’t remember ever feeling this calm.”

“Why would that scare me?”

“I know you aren’t really into the idea of any kind of permanence. But I feel so much better than I can ever remember feeling.”

The idea of permanence sounded great. It just wasn’t a luxury he could afford at the moment. A lot had to be worked out first. “Why do you suppose that is?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not dancing as fast as I can. Conner, I seriously didn’t realize how hard I had to work at my relationship with Greg. I was used to people saying marriage was hard work and I bought it. I don’t think I understood what they meant—I think what I didn’t get was that both people were supposed to be working at it, not just one of us.”

Oh, man, am I going to upset her calm world, Conner thought. “All couples are going to have issues,” he said. “We just haven’t had any lately.”

“Somehow I think it’s going to be different with you.”

“Why is that?”

“You seem to enjoy the calm as much as I do.”

He took a swig of beer. “Oh, baby, I do. But that doesn’t mean trouble won’t find me.”

She just shrugged, happily oblivious. “Well, I guess if something comes up, we’ll play the hand we’re dealt.”

I can’t put this off much longer, he found himself thinking. Even though he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, he knew he could trust Leslie with his life. He couldn’t help it, he’d wait just a little longer. Because the respite from the hard life was just too good to give up prematurely.

Jack Sheridan was wiping down the bar at about three-thirty in the afternoon when a man he’d never seen before came in. Nothing unusual in that—people were passing through all the time. But this guy wasn’t the usual—this guy was not a hunter, camper, fisherman or hiker. Not a mountain guy, but more of a Gentlemen’s Quarterly kind of guy. He wore a starched white shirt, open at the collar with the sleeves rolled up. He had pleated pants, fancy loafers and carried a sports coat or blazer or something.

“Hey,” Jack said amiably.

“Hi.” He jumped up on a stool. “Beer?”

“Absolutely. You have a preference?”

“Not really. Something imported?”

Jack laughed. “Sure thing,” he said, pulling a Heineken out of the cooler and popping the top. “Glass or bottle?”

“Chilled glass, please,” the man said. Then he pulled out his cell phone and thumbed through his panel of selections.

“You’re not going to have a lot of success with that. Our cell reception in town isn’t so good. Down 36 toward Fortuna it gets better. I have a landline, if that would help.”