Jim wasn’t real sure that it was his place to organize what amounted to a barn raising, but he was sure that he’d carry any burden June asked of him to the ends of the earth.

When Jim thought about how he might spend his retirement, it had never looked like this. He had seen himself on a sailboat or tropical island, basking in the sun. Or up to his thighs in a mountain stream, fly-fishing. Then there was that mountain-cabin fantasy, hunting his own food. It had never been a little house in a small town filled with eccentric people who minded everyone’s business but their own.

But he loved it. It would have been enough that he loved June; he could have made anything work for her. Yet he hadn’t met a resident of the town he didn’t like, and he was completely astonished at how willing they’d been to accept him. A lot of that was love for June, but he knew very well that if they hadn’t liked him, if they hadn’t thought he was good to her or good for her, they’d be giving him a lot of trouble. They’d try to run him off. They were a friendly group, a trusting group, a willful group.

He went first to Elmer to talk about June’s idea. He found the older man at the café having a late breakfast, so he sat up at the counter beside him and ordered coffee. June was already at the clinic seeing patients and it appeared most of the early morning regulars had gone. They passed a little chitchat on the weather, which was dismal, before Jim got around to the subject at hand.

“June has asked if I would go to the Forrest house and see how I can help with their renovations. Even though I’m not the best hand in carpentry.”

“Well, isn’t that a kick in the butt,” Elmer said, startling a grin out of Jim. “That’s her old boyfriend, you know.”

“So I’ve been told.” Over and over and over, he thought.

“Never was good enough for her, not even when he played quarterback in high school.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Now I guess he’s got himself in a real mess,” Elmer said.

“That’s how June described it. A fixer-upper that hasn’t had much fixing up done to it. And they’re at the end of their respective ropes because of the twins.”

“A mess of their own making, I might add,” Elmer couldn’t resist saying.

“She didn’t elaborate on that,” Jim said. “But she did say there’s no hope of them having a livable house by Christmas. And they’re at each other’s throats.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Elmer asked.

“I told her I’d offer some help out there. I wondered if you wanted to come along.”

Elmer made a face. “Damn it all,” he cursed. “I’m close with Birdie and Judge, and I don’t wish that aimless kid of theirs any harm, but I’ve always regarded Chris Forrest as a no-account pain in the ass.”

This brought Jim more pleasure than he could possibly have imagined, even though at no time had Elmer mentioned caring any more than that for him. And what they never talked about, when or even whether Jim and June would marry and legitimize his first and perhaps only grandchild, hung heavily between them. Rather than push June about that matter, he strove only to please her. And if working on her old boyfriend’s house pleased her…

“How’d she talk you into it?” Elmer asked.

“She didn’t have to talk me into it.”

“Oh, brother.”

Jim sighed. He didn’t wish to look less than manly in the eyes of the man he hoped would soon be his father-in-law. “She caught me making some repairs to her porch rail and got the idea I’m a carpenter, though not much of one. I don’t have a lot of daily appointments. And I find that, after a twenty-year career of working long hours, it doesn’t suit me to sit around the house and wait for the doctor mommy to show up.”

Elmer’s fact lit up. “Well, there you go! I was afraid you were some kind of pantywaist.” He lowered his voice and leaned close. “But June thinks…?”

“That I’m doing this because I adore her.”

He slapped his knee and laughed loudly. When he stopped, he frowned slightly. “You sure you’ve never been married?”

“Positive.”

“Hmm. You’ve got it figured out pretty good for a novice. You know, there’s something else on my mind.”

Oh-oh, Jim thought.

“June’s no kid. She’s got good judgment and all, and I know she’s been wanting a family for a long time, even if she did seem to be short a husband. So whatever she wants is no business of mine, as long as she’s healthy and happy.” He lifted a gray brow and peered at Jim over his glasses. “Although she still appears to be short a husband.”

Jim, who had fearlessly stared down the barrels of criminals’ guns, felt his neck grow slightly damp as he faced this little, bald-headed old man. “Have you talked to June about this?”

“She doesn’t like when I meddle,” Elmer said.

“Has it ever stopped you before?” Jim asked boldly, needing to know.

“That’s impertinent. You do want me to like you, don’t you?”

Now, this was a spot his sister Annie had put him in, wanting to know why they hadn’t set a wedding date. The real buried question was, Who’s standing in the way of you setting a wedding date? There was no winning in any answer. If he said he was reluctant, he looked like a cad. If he said June was, he was worse than a cad for selling her out. If he said both of them, well, wouldn’t everyone want to know what the problem was? Which harkened back to questions one and two.

So all he said to Elmer was “More than you can possibly imagine.”

“That so? Well, I just wanted you to know that I was troubled by that detail.”

In the worst possible way he wanted to say “Me, too!” But he knew better. So instead he said, “I hate seeing you troubled.” Jim had been interrogated by armed criminals while working undercover and felt more confident than he did now.

A slow smile spread on Elmer’s face. “Well, what are we going to do about that?”

Jim thought a moment. “I think we should find Sam Cussler and maybe Harry Shipton, drive out to the Forrest house and see how bad it is. Then we’ll have time to go over to Westport or even Fort Bragg to get what we need.”

“Harry? I don’t know that Harry can even pound a nail.”

“Maybe he can pray for the rest of us, then.”

Elmer shifted off the bar stool and got to his feet. He pulled a few bills out of his pocket and slapped them on the counter. “All right, let’s go have a look. Sheesh, you’re a slippery devil.”

 

Lunchtime at the clinic brought a lull in the action. John had gone over to Valley Hospital on his rounds and Jessie was using her lunch hour to study at her desk, so Susan had gotten some hot tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches from the café for herself and June. They were having a picnic on June’s desk.

“It’s been pretty nonstop around here the past couple of weeks,” Susan said.

“Hmm,” June agreed, sipping soup from her spoon. Not just nonstop in the clinic, but in her life, racing from work to Jim to work to emergency calls to Jim to family commitments. No matter what she was doing, she was always late. Always. She had even missed a couple of dinners entirely. And where did the time go? Jim had been here since the first week in October and it was already November!

“George sure knows how to mix up a good bowl of soup,” Susan said.

“Hmm,” June answered, nodding. And in weather like this—the constant drizzle of early winter—soup and a blazing hearth really appealed. It was hard to leave that warm bed in the dark of early morning, especially now that there was a warm body beside her. And torture to drive to work through the chill mist and fog when it would be hours yet before sunrise. And even then, sunrise didn’t bring much light or warmth. June often wondered how she went from feeling invigorated by the crisp colorful fall to drenched in the darkness of winter without even noticing the transition.

“It must be strange, going from a single career woman to half of a couple, fat with child.”

“Mmm-hmm,” June offered.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!”

June jumped. “What?” she asked, startled.

“Do you have any idea how quiet you’re being?” Susan asked.

“Huh?”

“Well, here we are, alone for the first time in who knows when, with no patients waiting in line, John at the hospital, Jessie absorbed, and all you have to say is ‘hmm’?”

“Did you ask me something?”

“Not really. I was patiently waiting. For you to talk. To say something. What’s it like? What’s he like?”

June took a second. “Well, he’s pretty much too good to be true. When I told him we were pregnant, he came as soon as he could. And for keeps. He’s retired from the…police.”

Susan rolled her eyes.

“Why’d you do that?” June asked.

“Never mind. Go on. Tell me more.”

“Well, he’s been completely patient about everything. He hasn’t complained one tiny bit about all the demands that are made on me, especially right now. This is a terrible time of year for illnesses. He tidies the house, runs errands, cooks dinner. And even if I’m called out and miss the dinner he cooked, he just saves a plate…that I may or may not get to eat.” She took a spoonful of soup. “I don’t think I could be that good if our roles were reversed. I think it would piss me off.”

“So, are you planning a wedding? Or are you going to elope?”

“Hmm,” June hummed.

“Stop that!”

“Well, Susan, I have a problem,” she said frankly. “And I have absolutely no one to talk to about it. Can it be you, or are you going to blab?”

“Of course it can be me! Am I not the soul of discretion?”

June made a face. Susan might indeed have sound judgment about when to speak and when to hold her tongue. Certainly no clinic confidences had leaked out since she’d been the nurse in charge. But girl talk was another matter. June could pretty much count on Susan’s best friend Julianna Dickson being cut in on the gossip at some point.

But who else could she talk to? Not Elmer, not about this. Birdie had more than enough on her mind as it was. Aunt Myrna, the darling, could be a flake. Ursula Toopeek would be a good choice, but she was busy with five kids, a full-time teaching job, a police chief for a husband and her in-laws living under her roof.

“Oh, what the hell,” June said. “There is this thing that Jim and I are not talking about, and it is as heavy as a four-thousand-pound boulder hanging in the air just above our heads. Getting married.”

“Why haven’t you talked about it?”

Simple question. Not so simple an answer. “Because… Because… Jeez, I don’t know why. Because I’ve been single all my life and it’s a really big step.”

Susan leaned farther over the desk, frowning, and said, “Isn’t having a baby a big step?”

“Having a baby is a very big step, but that’s done. It’s here. No matter how nervous I am at the prospect, I don’t have any choice. I still have a choice about making the great big marriage commitment. And I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“Oh, boy, is this going to stir things up,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re right about that.”

“You said you’re not talking about it. Does that mean he hasn’t asked you?”

“Oh, he’s asked me. Sort of.”

“How did he ‘sort of’ ask you?”

“He said, ‘Why don’t you take the day off and let’s go to Reno or Tahoe and get married.’”

“Oh,” Susan said, nodding. “That qualifies. You said no?”

“I said I couldn’t take the day off.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” she said.

“I guess I’m going to have to talk to Jim about this,” June said sheepishly.

Susan picked up her soup bowl and drank from it. It was such an unexpected maneuver for this dainty little blonde. When she lowered the bowl she smiled at June, showing her a tomato soup mustache and making her laugh. She licked off her upper lip and patted her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I could eat a horse. I must have a tapeworm or something.”

“Where do you put it?”

“Listen, I have to be careful. When you’re five foot three, one extra bran flake shows. So, you’d better talk to him. Maybe he’s not ready for marriage, too, and was just trying to do the right thing. If you’re both not ready, you can work on getting ready. It doesn’t really matter, as long as you’re on the same page. And as long as your child is the priority.”

“I’ve gone from never having anyone around, to having someone around all the time.”

Susan bit her lip. “Are you starting to feel a little…crowded?”

“Not really, strangely enough. I kind of like it.” She smiled and then her smile faded as a recurring thought popped into her mind. “It seems fine, but I keep wondering if I’m going to suddenly, and without warning, hate sharing my space with another person. Does that happen to people?”

“Happens to us every morning. We should have a bathroom with at least two sinks.”

“You’re saying some of this is just normal?”

“Uh-huh. You going to eat the rest of that sandwich? I’m famished.”

“Help yourself. Before, when I said something about Jim being retired, you rolled your eyes. What was that about?”

“Oh. I figured if he was in law enforcement before, you might have met him about the time of that raid on the marijuana camp.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, logically, in order for the feds to have a big raid on a huge cannabis plantation where they arrested dozens, there must have been agents in the area for months beforehand. The timing is right.”

June was quiet and serious for a moment. “He was camping. With a friend. Last spring.”

“That’s what all the undercover cops say to their girlfriends,” she said, winking. She stood up and collected their dishes onto the tray to take back to the café. “Take my advice, June. Don’t put anything that needs talking about on the back burner. Things that sit there too long tend to get burned beyond recognition.”

 

Jim and Elmer took a look in Elmer’s garage at what tools he’d collected over the years, then in June’s. Elmer had spent what free time he had fishing and playing poker, so aside from the most rudimentary tools necessary for basic repairs, he was a little short. Likewise Jim’s modest collection in the back of his truck and in June’s garage. Sam, they figured, might be better fixed, having a gas station and all. Once they knew what they had, they’d pay a visit to the Forrest household and assess their needs.

When they pulled up to the gas station, they pulled up to trouble. Syl Crandall’s bakery truck was sitting at the pump and Syl was having a very loud argument with Conrad Davis.

“Oh, Lord, what was Sam thinking,” Elmer said to Jim.

The men got out of Jim’s truck in time to hear Syl say, “If Sam wanted to change his policy, then Sam should’ve told his friends!”

“If you don’t have the cash, I can come around the bakery and get it—”

“It’s not that I don’t have it, young man, it’s that I usually pay Sam by check once or twice a month. I use a lot of gas to make deliveries.”

“We’re working on cash now,” Conrad said.

“Is that so?” Elmer asked, approaching them. Jim shored him up from behind and glared at Conrad. It seemed to take Conrad a second to remember him.

“Just collecting for the gas, man,” he said.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He’s over at this old house he found for me and the family. It’s been left empty and he said we could use it.”

“Elmer, this young man says he’s running the station now and we’re not to leave IOUs anymore. You hear anything about that?”

“Nope. Better take Mrs. Crandall’s IOU, son. That’s how she’s used to doing business with Sam.”

“Things’ve changed now that I’m running the station. He said it doesn’t make any difference to him how I run it, long as I take good care of it. I swept it out and everything.”

“And Sam is…?”

“I told you! He’s over working on that house!”

Elmer took a step toward him. “Where’s the house, son?”

“The street’s Marigold or something like that. It’s just a few blocks over, behind that big church a ways. Right by this woman with a chopped-up face.”

Syl gasped. “That’s Mrs. Mull,” she said unhappily. She stuffed the IOU in Conrad’s pocket and stomped to the truck. “I never,” she muttered.

“I think it’s against the law to leave without paying, ma’am.”

“Call the police!” she shouted. She got in her truck and drove one block to her bakery.

“I’ve known Syl Crandall for a hundred years,” Elmer said. “I can’t imagine what you said to her to get her that riled, but I’m guessing it was pretty bad.”

“Look, you buy gas, you pay for the gas. How hard is this?”

Jim put a hand on Elmer’s shoulder from behind. “Let’s go talk to Sam.”

“Yeah! You go talk to Sam! He’ll tell you! I’m running the station now and when I pump gas I get paid for the gas!”

“You’ll sell a lot more gas with honey than vinegar,” Elmer said.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Never mind.” Shaking his head, Elmer got back in the truck. “What in the blazes was Sam thinking?”

It became evident very quickly when Elmer and Jim found the house down the block from the Mull’s. There were only a couple of glass windows in front; the rest had been covered with boards. There was a curl of smoke coming from the chimney. It was a poor little place, but something about that swirl of smoke warmed it up considerably.

Just as the men would have knocked on the door, it opened. Jurea let out a small gasp of surprise, which immediately grew into a smile when she recognized Elmer. “Oh, Doc Hudson, you gave me a start.” In her arms she held a wicker basket full of clothes that appeared to need laundering.

“Morning, Jurea. I don’t guess you know June’s…June’s…” He turned slightly and looked up at Jim, frowning. Then, without any solution in sight, he smiled back at Jurea. “Jurea Mull, meet Jim Post, the newest newcomer to the valley.”

Her smile was shy and sweet. Of course. Jim knew instantly who she was. June had been telling him stories of the Mulls and their exodus from the hills since the first week they met. He’d been more than a little curious about her face and the transformation. He had no idea how charming he was when he reached for her hand, though it still grasped the basket. He actually had to pry it loose just a little so he could squeeze it. “Jurea, it’s so nice to meet you. June has told me all about you and your family.”

Elmer snorted. “Humph. Well, at least you and my daughter seemed to take some time for talking. Sam here?”

“Sure, he is. Come in, but mind that door. This old house is so full of holes we can’t hardly keep the wind out, and there’s little ones in here.”

There, in the corner of the living room by the wood stove, sat a young woman in a wooden rocker holding a bundle that was surely a newborn. There was a rug on the floor, and while bare in spots, it at least served to keep a bit of warmth between two little girls and their game of blocks. And not far away, kneeling to repair a floorboard with a warped and ragged edge, was Sam. The scene had such a look of domesticity, it appeared almost the natural order of things.

“Hey, there. The calvary,” Sam tossed over his shoulder.

Elmer walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder and said in a near whisper, “Sam, what have you gotten yourself into?”

Sam sat back on his heels. Just a few feet away Erline Davis sat with the baby, her little girls playing contentedly at her feet. In this setting, as opposed to the front seat of a truck in the throes of labor, she had a pretty and peaceful look. And she looked far too young to be the mother to this many children.

“Winter’s on us,” Sam said. “Up to now, Erline and the little ones were in a shelter and before that they camped.”

Elmer sighed, thinking of what Conrad was pulling down at the gas station. Sam would have to get him out of there or be robbed blind. “Well, Sam, I guess it’s true what they say. No good turn shall go unpunished.”

 

Jim hadn’t intended to head up a town project, but he could sense that this was some kind of beginning. With the Davis children so young and vulnerable, the place they were staying had to be shored up and safe, even if it was only one room. Central heat was out of the question, but the fireplace and wood stove made the small living room warm. There weren’t any appliances, but the electrical work was serviceable, and in the old pickup were some cooking pans, dishes and a hot plate.

Jurea wasted no time in taking Erline under her wing and showing her how to make do in a house that offered little in the way of luxury. Elmer left a message for Corsica Rios, a social worker from Family and Children Services, who would see that the Davis’s got a little help with food and clothing.

While getting them taken care of, the men couldn’t help but see that Jurea and her family could use a little fixing up, too—what with Clarence in the hospital. Afterwards, while having lunch at the café and talking about these chores, George interrupted them. “I’d be glad to do my part to help out at the Forrests’ if you’d lend a hand this weekend out at the Cravens’. Leah’s my waitress and her sixteen-year-old son Frank washes dishes. It’s just her and the five kids. They keep up pretty good, but with the cold weather on us, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure they’re all set for the winter.”

Harry said, “I’m not much of a carpenter, but I can tote and carry with the best of them.”

“Before we can do anything at all, we have to take a look at what we’re taking on. We’re going to have to go out by the Forrest house and take inventory.”

Hal Wassich was having a hot cup of coffee with his son Hank and a couple of the locals when he heard the name come up in conversation the first time, so he paid better attention to what was being said. Then he wandered over to the counter where the men sat. “Did I hear you say you’re going over to the Forrest house to lend a hand?” he asked.

They turned and looked at the grisly old farmer. Elmer jumped in surprise when he saw the bright pink scar running down his forehead. “Lord, man, you really whacked your noggin.”

“Hit a six-point buck, that’s what. Chris Forrest was getting a ride with the chief that morning and he taped me up as best he could. He never said anything about needing a hand. He should’ve known he could count on my family.”

“Seems he’s gotten shy about his needs,” Sam said. “Since his boys gave the town such a lot of trouble before that accident.”

“He’s got two banged-up teenagers in hospital beds in his living room, and that house he bought was a fixer-upper. I don’t think he’s even got the kitchen sink working yet, not to mention carpets on the floor. And June said they’ve strung curtains across bedroom and bathroom doors.”

“Rumor is the best help they have these days is Judge—and you know what a pleasant sort he must be to work with.”

Hal whistled. “We better get on out there and see what’s what. Hank?”

“Yeah, Pa?” he answered from across the café.

“Finish your coffee, son. We got something come up.”

About an hour later, Nancy Forrest answered knocking at her door. There, on her rickety porch, stood an impressive gathering of men who’d come in a half-dozen trucks. There was Jim and Elmer, Harry and Sam, Hal and Hank Wassich, George Fuller and his son. A few others had joined them before they left the café—Standard Roberts, whose flower fields would be too wet right now to keep him real busy; Lincoln Toopeek, who was semiretired, anyway; Ray Gilmore, who was found at the bakery and joined in; then, at the fork in the road, they happened upon Bud Burnham, who’d do anything for a little time away from his wife, Charlotte.

“Hi, I’m Jim Post. I’m June’s…June’s…Well, no one’s really been able to figure that one out yet.” There were a few chuckles among the men, but not Elmer. “Someone said you and Chris might need a hand out here. Some fixing up? Some carpentry? Some plumbing? And we have specialists in trash hauling, polishing, waxing, washing and whatever it is you need done.”

Nancy put both her hands over her startled mouth and began to cry.