Hidden Summit

“Sure,” Conner said. “I’m ready. I’m good on the beer.”

While Jack was back getting his dinner, a young woman came into the bar. She pushed down the collar of her jacket and shook out her dark blond hair—lots of loose curls reached her shoulders. She was a little on the thin side but pretty. The thing that got to him, she looked so clean. Or pure, like some Sunday-school teacher or something. Girl-next-door decent. Her complexion was peachy, her eyes dark, her lips full and pink. There was every reason why that sort of thing would appeal to Conner, after his experience with his ex-wife.

But then, Samantha had come across as squeaky clean, too, even classy. There hadn’t been a hint of cheap in her. Appearances meant nothing.

Even so, Conner had been a long time without a woman, and it was wearing on him. All he wanted was to get his life back, take care of his sister and nephews, never be vulnerable to a woman again. He wasn’t the least worried about dying a lonely old man; he, Katie and the boys were very close. Even if Katie found a perfect second husband, he’d always be Uncle Danny.... Well, Uncle Conner now. And that was good enough for him.

Jack put the fish in front of him but quickly headed for the other end of the bar where the Sunday-school teacher waited. Before long a man came into the bar, put an arm around the Sunday-school teacher’s shoulders and gave her a kiss on the temple.

Well, that was that. Temptation eliminated, as far as Conner was concerned.

Two

Leslie Petruso pulled up to the little bar in town, parked and went inside. She immediately felt a little better, a little safer. She liked the look of the place, as though it welcomed her to a simpler life. That’s all she wanted, really—something that was less complicated. She didn’t have to wait long at the bar before a big, good-looking bartender was there, grinning. “What can I get you, miss?”

“How about a glass of Merlot? I’m meeting someone, but I see he’s not here yet.”

She was instantly served the wine. “Anyone I know?” the bartender asked.

“Maybe. Paul Haggerty?”

He smiled. “One of my best friends. We served in Iraq together a long time ago. I’m Jack,” he said, putting out his hand.

“Leslie. How do you do?”

“Paul’s a friend of yours?”

“I hope so,” she said. “He was once my boss in Grants Pass. One of several bosses, I should say. I was the office manager for Haggerty Construction.”

“Pleasure to meet you!” Jack said. “Here for a visit?”

“Actually, if Paul hasn’t changed his mind, I’m here to work as his secretary. Office manager. Whatever he needs.”

“Well now,” Jack said. “’Bout time he did that! His company just keeps growing. He’s got himself a real fine reputation around here.”

“They’re the best, the Haggertys.”

“And speak of the devil,” Jack said, lifting his chin in the direction of the door.

She turned and smiled to see Paul. He was a sight for sore eyes. It had been a long time. His visits to Grants Pass for business had tapered off as his arm of the company in Virgin River grew larger and more demanding. He and his wife and kids still visited his family, but Leslie hadn’t been a part of that side of things.

He dragged off his hat in that boyish way of his and grinned at her. He put an arm around her shoulders, leaned down to give her a kiss on the temple and said, “God, it’s good to see you! How are you?”

And damn it all, her lips began to quiver slightly, and she had to press them together to keep from crying. Her eyes misted over.

“Aw, come on, honey,” he said, squeezing her a little harder. “Jack, how about a beer?”

“You got it,” Jack said, escaping.

“Take it easy now,” Paul said. “We’re going to have a drink, then I’ll take you to the rental to drop off your luggage and car and then I’m taking you home to dinner. Vanni made a roast—an event at our house, you know. I’ll drive you home after—to your new home.”

“You don’t have to go to all that trouble, Paul. I can drive.”

“Getting around these mountains after dark can be dicey when they’re new to you. You can start doing all that without any help from your friends tomorrow. Your furniture arrived, and since there wasn’t that much, Vanni just instructed the movers to unpack the boxes and put things away. There are clean sheets on the bed and clean towels in the bathroom. You can organize it your own way when you feel like it.”

“I wish she hadn’t gone to so much trouble,” Leslie said.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s so grateful you’re here. She’s been handling a lot of my paperwork, what I can’t keep up with, and she’s really too busy for even that right now.”

“She’s grateful? Oh, Paul, I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t stepped up with a job when your dad asked you!”

“I hope you don’t regret it when you see my office. We’re going to have to move a few things around, but right now I’m in a construction trailer.”

“Thank you, Paul,” she said. She took a sip. Then in a tremulous voice she added, “I just had to get out of there.”

He gave her a moment before he asked, “That bad, huh?”

She gave a hollow little laugh and shook her head. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to hold my head high and let it all roll off. I tried pretending I didn’t care, but I’m just not as strong as I’d like to be.”

He put a finger under her chin and smiled into her sad eyes. “Leslie, you don’t give yourself enough credit. First of all, you’re not the one who looks bad—it’s Greg who looks like an idiot and jerk. And second, you’re an amazing woman who has the respect of the company and the whole community.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” she replied. “But our divorce and his remarriage really took its toll. I see them everywhere! Did you know that she’s now pregnant with the baby he told me he didn’t want to have? Have with me, I guess.”

Paul leaned his forehead against hers. “Les, I’m sorry.”

She pulled back and lifted her chin. “I have to find a way to rebuild my self-esteem. I sure couldn’t do it in Grants Pass where Greg seems to think we can remain friends.”

“We’ll work on that. You’ll feel better about yourself in no time. Leslie, this isn’t about your failure. It’s about his.”

“Intellectually I know that,” she said. “But you have to understand, I have a lot more to overcome than you realize. I mean, I wasn’t even asked to the prom.”

Paul had laughed at that comment about the prom, as if she was kidding. She had worked with the Haggerty men for ten years, and they all thought she had a great sense of humor. And she knew they were absolutely on her side. Paul’s dad, Stan, the founder and president of Haggerty Construction, had been determined never to work with Greg again, but his sons had all stood up to him and pointed out that refusing to do business with a successful developer was shortsighted in business. And also some sort of discrimination. “Yeah,” Stan had stormed. “I discriminate against stupid assholes!”

Leslie had adored him for that!

She had been twenty-three when she married Greg Adams. He was a young developer who was becoming successful and well-known, though he was only just thirty. He was in all the fraternal and networking groups from Rotary to the Chamber of Commerce; he’d been president of each at one time or another. He’d had aspirations to run for city council, maybe mayor eventually. He was also incredibly handsome and very sexy, and she had always had a hard time believing he chose her. And even though she’d worked full-time for Haggerty Construction, she’d also joined the Junior League, library volunteers—anything she thought might help Greg’s plans. Of course, Greg had encouraged her to do so.

Then, after eight years of marriage, she’d caught Greg in an affair with a twenty-seven year old attorney. He had been thirty-eight. He’d come clean immediately and confessed he was sorry she had been hurt, but he was moving on. His life had changed in ways he had never anticipated. He’d moved out of their lovely three-bedroom home the day after she’d confronted him, filing for divorce while she was still in shock.

She’d gotten the house and the mortgage, which she couldn’t carry alone. He’d gotten fifty percent of the equity. She’d gotten no alimony because it seemed this successful developer had no money.

“Hah!” Stan Haggerty had roared. “That’s bullshit! He has plenty of money, unless he’s hidden it!”

Apparently he had, because after the divorce and sale of the home and division of the proceeds, he’d managed to buy a very large custom home in a better neighborhood, a new car and take his new lady on a lavish vacation to Aruba. A year after the divorce, he’d had a flashy wedding and invited half the town, including Leslie and her parents. They’d passed, sending regrets. A year and four months after the divorce, the new Mrs. Adams was showing.

Through all of this, Greg had phoned or stopped by regularly; it was very important to him that she know he would always love her and respect her. He wanted them to remember the good years they had together and remain the best of friends. If she hadn’t been so broken down with humiliation, demoralization and envy she might’ve found the strength to gouge his eyes out with a dull spoon.

When he’d broken it to her that Allison was pregnant and that he hoped she would be happy for them, she’d found her bottom. She’d taken all she could take. That’s when she’d gone to Stan and said she was terribly sorry, but she was giving notice.