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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, planing, nailing, sanding…it was therapeutic. While he couldn’t really let his mind wander too much if he was going to do a good job, it was easy to take a little think time while he worked with his hands. This had always been his magic bullet—carpentry. Every so often he’d glance over at Dan to check his progress and mastery. The man’s artistry shone through in no time.
    “How long you been doing this, bud?” Conner asked.
    “Oh, forever. My dad was a builder. We built the house we lived in, one room at a time. Really tough father, but outstanding builder. He was my first boss.”
    “I lost my dad twelve years ago,” Conner found himself saying. And then he thought about how easy it was to just talk about himself, his authentic self. He wondered if he’d always been that way without realizing it. But of course he had—he’d never had anything to hide before. Would a clever person be able to piece together a million details and discover him? But still he added, “He was tough, too. Good but tough. How long have you worked for Haggerty?”
    “Few years,” Dan said. “He’s solid. Good man.” Dan stood tall and said, “But don’t get the idea that just because he’s nice, he’s soft or easy. With him you earn your pay. And if you don’t, you’re gone fast. I repeat, fast.”
    Conner straightened. “You warning me for a reason?”
    “Not that I can see, but a friendly word here and there never hurts. What brings you to the mountains?”
    Conner gave him the standard line. Maybe it would even begin to feel natural.
    “Brie? You knew Brie?”
    “We were lots younger....”
    “Did you know her brother, Jack?” Dan asked.
    “We just had a couple of classes together. When I found myself out of work, I got in touch with everyone I’d ever met. I didn’t know anyone else in her family.”
    Dan grinned. “You’ll like Jack. But never let him know it. In fact, the best way to get on his good side is to give him a little shit. Accuse him of