So Wright (The Wrights 1)

He hadn’t imagined the project was on this grand a scale. And that was just at first glance. From this vantage point, Jack could see several streets branching off the main road, weaving through more trees before disappearing. Judging by the dump trucks and work vehicles dotting the roads, it appeared there was work going on in the hills as well.

“This is a big project,” his dad said.

“Bigger than I expected.” Jack continued toward an area where other vehicles were parked and pulled up beside an old Ford one-ton Super Duty with a Bondoed bed panel and a large toolbox filling nearly half the bed.

“I’ve been so disconnected, I didn’t even know what was happening in my own town.” Sadness floated in Jon’s voice. “Would have liked to have contributed to the project. It’s such a great cause.”

Jack reached over and squeezed his dad’s hand. “There’s still time, Dad. Now that you’re feeling better, you’ll be able to participate in all kinds of things.”

His dad surprised Jack by covering his hand and holding it there. His watery blue eyes were sharper today, but also sadder. “I miss you, son. With your mother gone, I’ve been feeling the need to have you and your sister and the little ones close. I’ve missed out on a lot this year. The boys grew up so much, and I missed it all. I don’t even remember Joshua being born.”

“It’s just the depression, Dad. The doctors said your memories will return as you get better.”

“Memories of what? Losing your mother? How my best friend of thirty years completely betrayed me? I don’t care to remember. I just want to look forward. I don’t want to miss another minute with any of you. I want our family close again.”

Jack was surprised to feel the same pull deep inside him. “I’ll make a point of coming home more often, Dad. I promise.”

Jon held his gaze. He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but just nodded and released Jack’s hand. “Let’s go take a look.”

Jack stood from the car and spent a long moment taking it all in. This was clearly the hub of the community. The main road split and curved around a section of property, where six shipping containers sat at different angles. They’d all been primed with flat gray paint, and by their positioning, Jack could almost see how they would assemble into one large stylish building.

A supply center had been created to the west, where mismatched shipping containers were lined up in neat rows alongside pallets of cement, piles of lumber, sheets of metal roofing, and other supplies. Forklifts filled flatbeds, a group of about six older women staffed a snack shack, and men and women of every age went about whatever duties they’d been given.

His dad smiled at Jack. “You want to get your hands on a set of plans so badly, you’re twitching.”

Jack laughed. “Let’s go see what we can dig up.”

As soon as they started toward the hub, he spotted Miranda. She was at the center of a group of five men ranging in age from twenty-five to fifty-five. A clipboard hung from one hand, and her hair was braided into one long tail. She wore old jeans and a red tank top.

She and two of the men in the group looked over blueprints. Miranda pointed to different areas, then spoke directly to the men with gestures. After so many years on construction sites, Jack could spot the man—or woman—in charge from a football field away. These people clearly looked to Miranda for direction.

Before she was even finished with one conversation, another group of three approached, and as soon as the first five men went to work, the other three moved in. She was like a flower at the center of hovering honeybees.

Jack could see why men might get squirrelly with her proximity to so many other men. He wasn’t normally a jealous man, but he now wondered if that was because he’d never met a woman he wanted to keep so badly.

Just as the three men moved on, Jack and his father neared Miranda. Her gaze registered surprise and skepticism as she looked at Jack, his father, then back. “Hey. Didn’t really expect you to come.”

Before Jack could respond, the door to a trailer marked OFFICE opened, and two more men came down the stairs. One was clearly identifiable as Marty from the prosthetic leg and the photo Jack had seen in the paper. The other man looked about Jack’s age, with a fair dose of premature gray threading his dark hair. He had an intense presence. He seemed like a leader, solid and confident. He was lean but muscular. He wore khakis and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up.

All the men met up with Miranda at the same time. When she turned and surveyed all their faces, nerves drifted through her gaze, as if she hadn’t meant for them to converge this way.

Marty held his hand out to Jack. “Mr. New York, I presume. I recognize your face.”

That reminded him that Marty knew exactly what had been going on between him and Miranda. Jack had never been a guy out for one thing, and he didn’t love the idea of someone important to Miranda thinking he was.

He took Marty’s hand. “Jack. Great to meet you, sir.”

“Marty Birch.” The man was weathered beyond his years. The lines of his face hinted at his age in the midsixties, but everything else about the man, from his full head of unruly salt-and-pepper curls to his taut biceps, made Jack think Marty was closer to his midfifties.

Marty introduced the man beside him as Roman Steele, and Jack introduced his father. More handshakes circled through the group.

Finally, Miranda reached out to Jack’s father. “Mr. Taylor, it’s so great to finally meet you.”

Jon clasped her hands in both of his and beamed at Miranda. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Wright. You’ve done Pinnacle proud, young lady.”

“Pinnacle has made some important donations to this project, sir. We can’t thank you enough.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jon said.