Hidden Summit

his new bio. “Colorado Springs. If you don’t mind me asking, how is it you have enough work to take on one more hire in a little place like this?”
    “A combination of things,” Paul said. “This place was a little light on general contractors when I first got here—not a lot of competition. And, because of the kind of place it is, beautiful and with a distinct shortage of industry, the only people who move here come because they can. Take my father-in-law, retired general—he found this place because it was perfect for hunting and keeping his horses. His lady friend is a semiretired actress—also loves hunting and has dogs and horses. Then there’s Jack of Jack’s Bar—not so rich and important, but a hardworking man, a retired marine who saved a couple of bucks and wanted to build his wife a nice house to raise their family.... You get the idea. People are here on purpose. And they tend to build or remodel the homes they’ll have forever, homes they’ll leave their children.... I love making homes for generations. My dad taught me that.”
    “And you’re here because…?” Conner asked.
    “That’s easy. My wife. Before she was my wife she was my best friend’s wife, and I gave my word if anything happened to him in Iraq I’d take care of her and their baby. The worst happened and I kept my word, but it was no sacrifice. I’ve always loved Vanni. She’s expecting our third now. We just found out.”
    “Wow, congratulations,” Conner said, dropping his gaze to the floor. He couldn’t make eye contact with either of them. What he’d seen in the bar the night before sure didn’t pay a tribute to the wife Paul had “always loved.” He suspected his new boss was fooling around with the secretary. He’d seen them together at the bar.
    “Now, I’m gonna need some information. Or—make that Leslie here is going to need some information so we can set up some benefits, take care of your payroll, the basics. And while you fill out her forms, I’m going to clean the bathroom.”
    “I really didn’t mean you had to do it,” Leslie said rather sheepishly.
    “Hey, the buck stops here,” Paul said. “I should’ve made sure it was kept clean. Vanni wouldn’t even come out here—she made me take the paperwork home. I’ll clean it and I’ll make sure it stays clean.” He grinned and put an arm around her shoulders. “The employment applications and forms are in the lower left drawer.”
    “I’ll take care of it,” she said. And she smiled warmly at Paul, then Conner. And when she caught Conner’s eyes with hers, there was a zing. A spark.

Three
    A fter filling out some paperwork, Conner walked across a muddy lot to a house that was nearly finished and introduced himself to Dan Brady.
    “Oh, hey,” Dan said, stretching out a hand. “Paul mentioned something about a cabinet guy heading our way!”
    “I hope that’s me,” he said, thinking, I used to be Dan, Uncle Danny. But he was Conner now—a change that would probably be permanent. “I’m supposed to work with you. What are we doing here?”
    Dan spread out his plans on a piece of wood set atop the base for a kitchen island. “Granite countertops, walnut cabinets with glass insets, matching bathroom counters with granite carved sinks and identical cabinets—no glass insets in the bathroom.”
    Conner gave a nod. “This is pretty high-end for me. I’ve done it, but it’s been a while. I hope you don’t mind if I ask for advice here and there?”
    “I’ll mind if you don’t. I’d rather help you do it right for the homeowner than have to go back and redo. Let’s get it right the first time. Any questions, spit ’em out.”
    “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
    “I appreciate it more,” Dan said. “We’re on time and on budget because we build smart. ”
    “I’ll try to keep up with you,” Conner said.
    Conner hadn’t been on a building crew in a long time, but he’d been involved in building in every other way. He’d built all his own displays, given classes to homeowners who’d been attempting their own renovations, instructed carpenters who’d been after something new and upscale. But of course the business of retailing had been too consuming to allow extra time for building, except for the things he’d built for his nephews—their backyard play set, shelves, cabinets, race car bed frames.
    How he missed them! But having his hands on the wood was reassuring and felt good. Measuring, cutting,