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.”
“I want to tell you something. Think back a few months. A long while back, the first night you surprised me by walking into Jack’s. When all the boys got together to hunt and I had no idea you were here, in Virgin River, and you surprised me. Remember?”
“I do.” She smiled.
“That very night, overcome just by seeing you, I might’ve had one too many.”
“I think you told me that, Paul,” she said.
“I got tanked. And I made this drunken confession to Jack, about how I’d seen you first but Matt got to you ahead of me. No one else heard me, thank God. But Jack knew what was going on. Later, then, after Matt was killed and the baby was born and a certain pediatrician was chasing you, Jack called me one night and told me not to be an idiot. He said if I wanted you I’d better get down here and find a way to say so.”
“He did? I never knew that.”
“And I came as fast as I could. Because if I hadn’t, I was going to lose you. And I loved you. God, I loved you.” He took a breath. “Before I ever held you or kissed you, I was so in love with you, sometimes it was awful. I try to imagine what it might have felt like if we’d been a couple, for even one night, and you didn’t want me anymore.”
“You don’t have to ever imagine that, sweetheart,” she said.
“I have what every man wants—a woman he’d die for. A woman who owns him, every piece of him. I really never thought I’d be this lucky…”
“Stop,” she said. “Don’t go crazy on me.” She put her hand along his cheek. “Just pick up your dirty underwear like a good boy and I’ll reward you in many remarkable ways.”