Although he had managed to kick his habit of note writing, he found a Nicole Jorgensen in the San Francisco phone directory and when he called that number, the voice on the answering machine was unmistakably hers. “Ah, Nikki, it’s Joe. From Grants Pass. I’d love to talk to you. No, I really need to talk to you. Please. I’ve been trying to reach you since the wedding. Come on, Nikki, we have things to talk about. I’m totally confused.”
Of course she didn’t call. Fortunately he left only the one message. It took great restraint on his part not to call that number several more times, just to hear the sound of her voice. That sweet, sultry voice that had caressed his mind with every word that had come out of her mouth. But her caller ID would show repeated attempts, making him look out of control, so he held himself back.
It had been a few weeks. He was done. No more note writing, no more calls. Even he wouldn’t date someone this desperate. He was going to start looking like a stalker when what he was, was in love with her. It embarrassed even him to think like that. How could you be in love with someone you’d met twice, but you knew for only twenty-four hours? It was impossible. There must be some other explanation for dreaming about her, smelling her, tasting her, hearing her voice, feeling her hair against his cheek when he was waking up in the morning. Some sort of mania or hallucination. An obsessive-compulsive disorder.
He called Paul. “Yeah, hi. If you’re ready, I can bring down the plans for your two properties this weekend. We can go over them with the owners, walk the land, make adjustments, get moving on this.”
“That would be great,” Paul said cheerfully. “Want to stay with us while you’re here?”
“Thanks, but I’m making some other plans.”
“How about the trailer? Want to borrow it?”
He laughed uncomfortably. “For sure, no. But thanks for the offer. I think I’m going to stay at Jack’s this trip.”
“Whatever works. I’m really looking forward to seeing you, buddy.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Joe said.
Joe asked Jack if that little cabin in the woods was still available and Jack told him it was. Jack mentioned his worry about the small forest fires that seemed to be springing up all over the countryside across five states due to drought and extreme dryness. Joe was able to see firsthand what that was about when he made the drive south. He passed a couple of small pockets of fire that came dangerously close to the roads he traveled. There were not too many controlled burns out there when the weather was so dry, but he supposed some of the small plumes of smoke he saw in the distance could be fires set by Cal Fire to keep the landscape under control—spacing the clumps of forest to give them an advantage in a fire, to keep it from spreading.
He was a volunteer in the Grants Pass Fire Department, but had only been called once, years ago. There was nothing quite as ominous as driving through the lush green hillsides staked with towering pines and not be able to see very far in front of you because of smoke. Or worse, driving down a road that was bordered on each side by the charred, black skeletons of once-majestic trees. When a fire had passed through, the hillsides could look like that for years and years and years.
Joe was glad when he reached the redwoods, untouched and pristine. And then past the Virgin, wide and wild, flowing over rocks and down natural waterfalls. Another few months would bring deer hunting; deer hunters. Fishing in the Virgin would start to get real good. The boys would come down in a few months to catch the end of hunting season; Mel would throw a fit, but it wouldn’t do her any good. And then she’d cry if they shot any deer. The memory of it made him smile—she was so sentimental, and Jack was so tender with her. But he’d hunt anyway.
He walked into the bar with his plans rolled up under his arm. Preacher was waiting for him, but the bar was empty, as it often was in the middle of the afternoon. Joe got his usual bear hug from the big man. “Ready to be a daddy, my man?” Joe asked him.
“Whew, you can’t know. Paige, she’s big as a—” He stopped himself. “Mel says that baby’s ready to walk out of her.”
“Get the girl,” Joe said. “You’re going to love the house.”
“Yeah, I’ll get her. And I’ll give Brie a call—they’re excited to see their plans. How about Paul?”
“I told him I’d get here by early afternoon. I’m sure he’ll show up.”
When Paige came out of the back, Joe’s eyes warmed over at the sight of her. She was ripe as an overdue melon. Plump and rosy and big. “Aw, honey,” he said. “You’re so beautiful.”