Second Chance Pass (13 page)

“Let me see the sketches,” Paul said, changing the subject.

Jack reached under the bar and pulled out a large sheaf of rolled papers, clipped together at one corner. “They’re pretty rough sketches.”

“No problem,” Paul said. “I’m used to his scrawls and squiggles. He does manage to invent new abbreviations regularly, though. To challenge me, I think. Preacher in back?”

“Yeah, he’s cleaning up after lunch.”

Paul grinned. “Maybe I’ll get started. Take care of the general, will you?”

“Who says I need taking care of?” Walt asked. “I’m as happy right now as I’ve been all week.”

Paul drank about half of his beer, flipping through the
sketches, then dragged himself off the stool and wandered into the kitchen.

Paul knew the bar like the back of his hand, but to do the architect justice, he looked at it with a builder’s eyes. He scribbled over Joe’s notes. He walked through the apartment and upstairs, then stopped in the middle of the small living quarters on the ground floor. He thought with the second floor and loft added, it could handle an open-beamed ceiling over their new great room, with a fireplace. Then he walked around outside.

Before Paul could escape back to the bar, Mike saw him prowling around the yard right outside Preacher’s quarters where the extension would be anchored. He walked across the yard from the RV. “Hey, Paul, did Jack tell you we’re looking at building?”

“He did,” Paul said with a nod. “Probably a good idea, if you’re not finding anything you like.”

“It sure would be great if I already knew the builder and his work,” Mike said.

“Yeah, but I work in Grants Pass now,” Paul said.

“There must be at least one incentive to taking a job around here,” Mike said, grinning.

“I love this place, you know that. But I have commitments in Grants Pass. I left my dad and brothers for a long time while I was here last autumn.” And, thought, those commitments included a pregnancy. Maybe, just maybe, Virgin River would be a more strategic place to sit it out. He could keep in touch with Terri by phone rather than having her expect him to be available to her. It would help with the matter of not giving her false hope. “Tell you what, I’ll definitely think about it. But there are a lot of factors.” Not the least of which was Vanessa Rutledge.

A
t only two and a half months, little Matt had become a very cooperative travel companion. After his stroll along the cliffs, he had a nice catnap with his mother, then a bath and a little playtime. Then a long, leisurely nursing, and back to sleep. Vanni had a shower, put on a lightweight sundress, primped and waited until she heard a soft tapping at the door that separated her from Cameron. “Is he asleep?” Cameron asked.

“He is.”

Cameron crept near the portable crib and looked at him. He saw Vanessa’s shawl on the bed and picked it up, draping it over her bare shoulders. “I was prepared for him to join us for dinner.” He laughed. “We’ll keep an ear turned his way. Come here,” he said, taking her hand. “I have drinks on the patio.” He led her through his room onto his patio where a table had been set with china. He lifted a drink and put it into her hand. The sun was just beginning its downward path. He touched her glass with his. “To a weekend away from it all.”

“Thank you, Cameron. I didn’t realize how much I needed something like this.”

He pulled out a chair for her, turning it slightly to face the beautiful sunset. “Sit down and enjoy the sunset. Are you warm enough?”

She pulled the wrap around her and nodded.

“Do you miss the flying, Vanni?” he asked her.

“I miss the girlfriends,” she said. “We’re in touch and we visit a lot, but there were four of us who bid our schedules together, so every trip was like a four-day pajama party. Two of us lived in L.A., two in San Francisco. We’re still close.”

“Will you go back to flying?”

“No, that part of my life is over. I can’t imagine leaving little Matt for days at a time. Half of my problem is not having any idea what’s coming next for me. Sitting in my father’s house, a single mother?” She shook her head. “I don’t know about that….”

He laughed at her. “Vanni, you’re not going to do that. Carol said something about you joining her in real estate….”

It was her turn to laugh. She felt an overwhelming temptation to tell Cameron she’d rather have all her teeth pulled than work with Carol every day, but knowing their friendship preceded hers with him, she just said, “No. I already told her I wasn’t interested in real estate, but in her usual fashion she wasn’t listening and is probably getting a desk ready for me at her brokerage firm.”

“A formidable woman,” he said, giving his head a shake. “Being her daughter-in-law probably has its challenges, but I have to hand it to her—she got me my house at an irresistible price. She got the seller to bring the price way down without me even making an offer.”

“She probably wore them down. She’s worn me down a time or two.”

“I can only imagine.”

There was a knock at the door and Cameron rose to
admit a man dressed in waiter livery carrying a large tray. He was a friendly man in his fifties, delighted to be serving them. He chatted about the food as he prepared their plates, poured them wine and large glasses of water. He had a van backed right up to Cameron’s hotel-room door and went back and forth to bring in the meal and, once their plates had been served, he stood silent by the hotel-room door, allowing them to talk and enjoy the meal, watching in case it was time to refill water or wine glasses.

They were served salad, pasta, chicken Marsala, crisp green beans with almonds, Chardonnay. Then came crème brûlée.

“This must have cost a fortune,” she whispered across the table to him.

“It was worth every penny,” Cameron said, taking a last bite of crème brûlée. “The hotel manager hooked me up with a local restaurant and I talked to the chef. He recommended the menu, said he’d have it sent over and served, and I thought it made so much more sense to be here where we could hear the baby than trying to go to a good restaurant.”

“And subjecting the other diners to a crying baby?” She laughed. “I’m sure they’re all very grateful.”

“Crying babies are pretty much a part of daily life for me,” he said.

“And for me,” she added. “This was so thoughtful. I can’t think of another thing you could have done to create a perfect getaway.”

“Good. You’ve enjoyed it?”

“Immensely. And on top of it all, you’ve been a real Boy Scout.”

“I had my instructions,” he said with a chuckle. The waiter returned to the table and offered them coffee. “I’m not a nursing mother,” Cameron said. “And I’m not
driving—I’m having another drink. How about you, Vanni? What would you like?”

“Decaf?” she asked. And it was provided. The dishes were cleared away, a carafe of decaf left on the table. Cameron sipped his drink slowly and then the door softly clicked closed for the last time, leaving them alone.

Leaving them to talk. And talk. They went over families, friends, places they’d lived, terrible apartments they’d rented, bad cars they’d purchased, trips they’d taken. They laughed and asked each other questions and became friends, something Vanni had said she wanted. But when she said it she was only trying to keep him from pursuing her romantically. She was a bit surprised to realize how much she liked him and hoped he
could
be her friend.

She glanced at her watch; over three hours had passed. The day had been nearly perfect. It had taken her mind off all sorts of things, and had proven an ideal escape with a wonderful gentleman. “It’s almost time for little Matt to make himself heard,” she said.

“Does he still wake in the night?” Cameron asked.

“A couple of times, but he eats and goes back to sleep. People keep telling me he’s an easy baby. Thank God. It’s the only thing that’s been easy lately.”

“I’m glad you didn’t draw the fussy card. You just never know.”

She pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m going to turn in. I know it’s still early for you, but after Mattie’s next meal, I’ll go to bed.”

He stood, as well. “I’m right here if you need anything.” And then he walked her to their adjoining door.

She turned and faced him. “Really, I don’t know how to thank you. The day was wonderful, the evening was perfect. And you’re exceptionally well behaved.” She grinned at him.

“Don’t give me too much credit. It’s all part of a devious plan.”

“Oh?”

“Absolutely. If I can show you a good time, make you feel safe and comfortable, then maybe when you’re ready, I’ll have a chance.” He smiled at her.

She tilted her head and looked at him with a sweet smile and glowing eyes. “You’re absolutely wonderful.”

He shied a bit at the compliment and dropped his gaze, laughing softly. “Well, I’ve never had an interest in a widow with a baby before and I’m finding it has its difficult points.”

“Oh?”

He threaded a hand under her hair and around her neck. “Oh, yeah. For one thing, you just smell so damn good. If your situation was different, you might have to beat me off with a club. I have a giant crush on you.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done this,” she said, but she didn’t pull away from his hand. “I’d hate to lead you on….”

“Come on, it’s not your fault if I have a crush and a desperate need to try to impress you. Don’t you have enough baggage without taking on mine?”

“Well, I’m impressed,” she said softly. She leaned toward him and put a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I just don’t want to let you down.”

Their eyes locked and for a moment they were suspended there. And then he slowly pulled her toward him. He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him. But then the baby started to snuffle in the crib and whimper. She pulled back with a smile. “That’s my call,” she said quietly. “Thank you for a lovely day. And for being such a dear man, for understanding so much.”

“Sure,” he said, removing his hand. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Good night, Cameron.”

Of course Vanni couldn’t sleep. It stung. She wanted hands on her. She wanted a man’s hot and eager body pressing her down in the bed, filling her, making her tremble and cry out. She hadn’t been touched, or physically loved in so long. After Matt’s death, after the baby, when her body began to come back to life, there was only one man whose touch could tempt her, really tempt her. Matt’s best friend.
Her
best friend.

Oh, it made her so furious, tears came to her eyes. That damn Paul! He wasn’t nearly as smooth, as romantic as Cameron! He wasn’t as pretty, and Lord knew, he didn’t want her like Cameron did.

Then she remembered the way he laid his head on her shoulder and wept right after the baby was born, the way he slipped his arms around her waist when she cried at Matt’s grave, the way he held her and the baby close for a few long moments before saying goodbye…And the tears came. How had she let this happen?
Why can’t I just want the man who wants me—instead of the man who has no room in his life for me?

Sometime in the dark of night, Cameron was awakened by odd, faint sounds. He opened his eyes and listened. The baby, he thought. He sat up. But that wasn’t a baby crying, he realized. He got out of bed and crept closer to the door that separated him from Vanni. She was weeping. Crying soft, muffled, sad tears.

He pushed gently on the door and it opened—she hadn’t locked it. Maybe she did trust him, he thought. He pulled on his pants and went to her room. “Vanessa,” he whispered.

She moved in her bed. She sniffed. “Cameron?” she asked.

“What is it?” he whispered.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she whispered back.

He went to her bed and sat on the edge. He looked down at eyes that, even in the darkness of her room, were filled and overflowing, her nose pink. “God, Vanessa, if I made you cry, I’ll hate myself.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re completely innocent. You’ve been wonderful. I think too much sometimes. I have to learn to let some things go.”

“Oh, honey,” he said, pulling her close. “It’s all right. These things take time.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I knew—we both knew—you’ve had so much to deal with, to try to put into perspective. It’s okay.” He crawled onto the bed and, on top of the coverlet, slipped an arm under her head to hold her. “You take your time, Vanni. There’s lots of time.”

She turned in his arms and cried against his bare chest, and he held her, understanding the pain. He ached for her. The woman had buried the husband of her heart right before delivering his child. Moving on to the next part of her life wasn’t going to be that easy.

He didn’t care. He was willing to go through this with her, because this was exactly the kind of woman he wanted in his life. A woman who could show commitment this powerful, emotion this deep, love this enduring.

When he woke hours later, still on her bed, he saw her across the room, her nightgown slipped down to nurse her baby. As she looked down at her son while she fed him, a tear glistened on her cheek. She was having trouble leaving her spouse behind, and every time she looked at her son it would serve as a reminder.

It was not the morning after he had imagined or hoped for. He went to his room to shower. Then he had a nice breakfast delivered to the room, but he excused the waiter
so they could be alone. He held the baby against him as Vanni picked at her food and sipped her coffee. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked her.

“A little bit,” she said. “God, Cameron. You don’t deserve this.”

“I told you, I understand. But I think we should go home. I think maybe you could use some time alone. I don’t think being with me right now is helping much.”

She reached across the table to touch his hand. “I don’t want you to think it wasn’t a wonderful weekend. For a while there, I really was far away. I needed that.”

“It came with a little pain. That’s the last thing I wanted for you.”

“I know. I’m the one who should have known better.”

“I have to believe it’ll just keep getting easier.”

“Probably,” she said. But she didn’t say it with much confidence.

The ride back from the coast was pretty quiet in Cameron’s car. He attempted conversation a few times, but Vanni didn’t have much to say. They had to pull into a rest stop for a while for Vanni to nurse and change the baby, so he walked around outside, giving her privacy. He stayed close, feeling protective. He reached across the console to hold her hand a few times as they drove, and she squeezed his hand affectionately, but she smiled at him with regret and sadness in her eyes and it filled him with a foreboding. He had wanted their weekend together to be just the beginning, but he had a feeling it was going the other way.

It was about two in the afternoon when they came up to the general’s house. Cameron stopped short of the drive. Parked outside the circular driveway in a nice neat row were the general’s SUV, Tommy’s little truck, Paul’s big truck.

Vanessa stared at the vehicles, gazing out the window, her mouth set in a serious line. Waiting on the front stoop was Paul. He stood as Cameron’s car came into view and Vanessa’s eyes were locked on him. He had something in his hand, like a pebble or sliver of wood that he tossed. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and looked anxiously at Vanessa. “Damn,” Cameron said. “I’m such an idiot.”

Vanessa turned to look at Cameron. She lifted her chin. There it was, in her eyes. All of it.

“It wasn’t your husband’s memory that made you cry,” he said, suddenly understanding so much more than he wanted to. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because,” she said, tears threatening to fill her eyes. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he asked, indicating Paul.

“I have no idea why he’s here. He has someone.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“But
you
love
him.
”

She gave a hiccup of emotion. “I’m just very confused. We were so close. Matt, the baby, everything…”

“Vanessa,” he said sincerely. “You were never honest about that.”

“I didn’t know what to be honest about! I’m trying to move on. Really.”

“All right,” he said, shaking his head. “All right, don’t cry. Please.”

“I told you I didn’t want to mislead you,” she said, but then she lifted her chin, sniffed back her tears and said, “I mean nothing to him. We’re just good friends.”