Paradise Valley. Робин Карр

“Jack, sometimes I miss him so much.”

      “Me, too, kiddo. What do you hear from him these days?” he asked, praying she wouldn’t ask him the same question.

      “I got a letter last week. I think he’s having a hard time. He won’t tell me anything bad, but there’s a certain…something. I can’t describe it. It’s like he’s having trouble writing things down, and he keeps repeating the same things over and over. I just hope he’s all right.”

      “Lizzie, men who serve, even when they’re not real close to the action, tend to bring home some issues with them. Know what I mean, honey?”

      “I know.” She dropped her gaze briefly. “I’m trying to read about it, but it’s scary.”

      “There are groups, Liz. Military spouses who get together to support each other. You could check it out.”

      “Oh, I couldn’t, Jack. I’m not a wife. They wouldn’t—”

      He smiled. “Bet they would. You’re not the only girlfriend waiting for her guy to come home. If you think it could help you understand some things, you should give it a shot.”

      “Do you think that would make it easier for Rick?” she asked.

      Nothing is going to make this easier, Jack thought. But he didn’t say it. He smiled. “Maybe. The point is, if it helps you, it might end up helping him. Why not at least ask? If you can find a group in your area?”

      “I guess I could check. Does it cost anything?”

      He frowned. “I doubt it. Why? Is that a problem?”

      “I’m saving every penny Aunt Connie pays me for helping in the store. When Rick gets his R & R, I want to meet him. I’ll go anywhere. I got a passport.”

      Jack was momentarily stunned. That had never occurred to him—that Rick would spend his leave anywhere but Virgin River, and that Liz would travel to see him. The shock must have shown on his face, because she smiled.

      “I’ve never been anywhere,” she said quietly. “Anywhere at all.”

      “This is kind of a big step.”

      “Bigger than spending nights with him at his grandma’s house? Bigger than having a baby with him? Than promising I’ll love him forever? Come on, Jack.” She laughed. “By now you should be used to this. We’re not giving each other up.”

      Jack smiled at her, but he was thinking, All I want in this world is for everything to work out for you two now. You’ve earned it. Burying a baby, going to war, being left behind. You’ve gone through things some couples married twenty years haven’t gone through—and held it together. God, no one deserves it more. But he said, “Liz, things usually work out the way they’re supposed to. You need to have faith and think positive.”

      Three

      Since moving part of his family’s construction company to Virgin River, business had been good for Paul Haggerty. He was working on a new construction, a forty-five-hundred-square-foot house for a couple from Arizona. It would be their second home; the people were obviously stinking rich. He’d snagged the job out from under the local contractors by promising to deliver the finished home ahead of schedule. With the reputation of his family’s company in Grants Pass plus a little tour of a couple of his completed properties, it was a quick contract. In addition to getting the job, he’d convinced them to talk to Joe Benson, his best friend and architect from Grants Pass, about a design.

      Now he had to deliver.

      He had a couple of houses and three renovations in production. But business was only as good as his crews. He’d hired some solid, skilled people, and when someone messed up, didn’t show for work or couldn’t follow orders, he didn’t screw around—they were gone. Which meant the hiring and firing was a continual process.

      He kept his office in a construction trailer at the big homesite. That was the project that was taking the most time. The weather was warming up a little, but it was still brisk in the mountains in March. He looked up from the schedule on his clipboard to see a man walking toward him holding a folded newspaper. Another job applicant. Well, good. With any luck he’d be hireable.

      The man was good-sized and appeared strong. He wore an odd-looking cowboy hat, jeans, denim jacket and boots, looking so much like everyone else up here in the mountains. He was clean shaven and his clothes appeared to be fresh; Paul took that as a positive sign.

      When he got up in front of Paul he stopped and said, “Hi. I’m looking for the boss at Haggerty Construction.”

      Paul put out his hand. “Paul Haggerty. How you doin’?”

      The man accepted the shake. “Dan Brady. Good. You?”

      “Excellent. What can I do for you?”

      “You advertised for a drywall man and painter. That spot filled yet?”

      “I can always use help with that, if you have what I need. Let me get you an application.” Paul turned away to go into the trailer.

      “Mr. Haggerty,” Dan said, stopping him.

      Paul turned. He was used to being in charge, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to being called mister by a man his age or older.

      “I don’t want to waste your time or mine. I served some felony time. If that’s going to stop you cold, let’s not go through the routine.”

      “For what?” Paul asked.

      “Farming the wrong produce, you might say.”

      “Anything else on your sheet?” Paul asked.

      “Yeah. I turned myself in.”

      “Any other arrests? Of any kind? Even misdemeanor?”

      “That’s it. Isn’t that about enough?”

      Paul didn’t respond or react. He’d keep secret the fact that he’d feel better hiring a pot grower than someone who’d had a bunch of DUIs. One thing that could really mess up the works and get people hurt was drinking on the job. “Do you have a parole or probation officer you report to?” Paul asked.

      “I do,” he said. “Parole. I was released early, if that matters.”

      “How long have you been out?”

      “Not long. Six weeks. I checked in with the family and relocated.”

      “Why here?” Paul wondered aloud.

      “Because Virgin River is known for discouraging marijuana growing.”

      “Well, Dan, my business isn’t limited to Virgin River. There’s lots of work around these mountains and I’m willing to take any good bid if I have the crews to cover it. There could be a job in a place that caters to illegal growing, like Clear River. That going to be a problem for you? Or for me?”

      Dan grinned. “Old acquaintances of mine aren’t likely to be doing honest work. I think it’ll be all right.” Then he shook his head. “One of ’em might order up a big house, however. I just hope not.”

      Paul laughed in spite of himself. He wasn’t going to be doing business in cash. If that ever came up, they’d have to use a bank, and growers didn’t like banks. “Then the next step is your application. I’d like to see what you’ve done in construction, then we’ll talk.”

      “Thank you, Mr. Haggerty. Thank you very much.”

      Paul got him an application, gave him a pen and clipboard. Dan sat on the steps to the trailer and filled it out. A half hour later he handed it to Paul who scanned it.

      “You’ve had a lot of construction experience,” he said, surprised. He looked up. “Marine Corps?”

      “Yes, sir. I started working construction at eighteen, Marine Corps