Redwood Bend

Nine

“We have a slight issue,” Luke Riordan told Dylan a few days later. “I have reservations on all these cabins—summer people. But I have a solution, if it’s not too rough for you. I parked my fifth-wheel trailer on the RV slab behind the cabins and hooked her up—water, sewer and electric. It’s yours as long as you want it.”

“I’m just thinking about a couple more days,” Dylan said.

“Right,” Luke said with a crafty grin. He wasn’t saying it, that Dylan’s “couple of days” had stretched out, edging over three weeks. “Like I said, as long as you want it. It’s for special cases like this—when we have one more than we planned on. And I’ll give it to you cheaper than the cabin, but don’t worry, it’s comfortable. Your legs’ll hang off the bed, but you get used to that. You’ll have everything you need, except the washer and dryer, but you’re welcome to borrow ours anytime. And the shower is smaller. If you drop the soap, you’re in trouble. You’ll have to step out to pick it up.”

Dylan laughed, but what really tickled his good humor was the fact that he’d been getting most of his showers at a little cabin in the woods the past week.

Any other woman would have extracted some kind of statement from him, some sort of lame commitment or expression of affection. But not Katie. He’d been in Virgin River for almost a month, the first four days of it having been with his boys on a ride. And it wasn’t easy dating a woman with kids. She called the shots. She saw him during the day while the boys were at their summer program, and if she saw him evenings or on weekends, they were busy doing things with the family. He’d been to an animated kids’ movie, the kind where you get a red Slurpee spilled right in your lap, popcorn down your shirt and gum in your hair, not to mention the headache that follows. They had dinner at her cabin, dinner at McDonald’s, and burgers on the grill at her brother’s house. He’d played catch, did a little fishing without catching and had learned video games. All this so he could get laid when the kids weren’t home. He had never, not even as a teenager, traded so much of his soul for the affection of a woman.

Katie’s brother had stopped scowling so much and was working on getting to know him.

“What will you do if the charter business goes under?” Conner asked.

“There’s more to a fixed base operation than charters, but that was the big moneymaker, and that’s the part of the business that’s suffering the most. We still have aircraft storage, maintenance, instruction, et cetera. My partner is managing all that while I hang out here trying to—”

“Trying to decide how much you like my sister?” he asked.

“Aw, it’s not really like that, Conner. There’s no question about how much I like your sister. It’s just that…we’re good friends. And don’t worry about Katie or the boys—we’re very responsible. Nothing inappropriate going on there—when we’re all under the same roof, it’s all good and proper.”

“So she says…”

“I have a potential job in Los Angeles. I’m waiting to hear more about that, then I’ll have to go down there. I’d rather live and work in Montana, but through no fault of anyone’s, that might be out of reach at the moment.” He laughed lightly. “Lang, my partner, is expecting a slow exodus of our employees from the company—pilots, instructors, maintenance—until we’re down to just a few. So I should think about getting a paycheck. But I hate the city.”

“I can relate,” he said.

“But you always lived in the city, worked in the city,” Dylan said.

“And was mad as hell at the circumstances that moved me to this little town…till I got to know this little town. Over the course of a couple of months I realized I didn’t just want a different location, I wanted a different kind of life. A slower, simpler, more balanced kind of life. So how do you know you won’t enjoy flying out of Los Angeles? Maybe it’ll work out.”

Of course, Conner assumed it was a flying job. The only thing Dylan had told him about himself was that he was a pilot and instructor. To his amazement, Leslie must not have said anything. Girls usually liked to brag about a Dylan sighting… “I’m sure it’ll work out one way or another and as much as I like kicking back here, I’m going to have to go check it out. But there is something I’d kind of like to do before I go—I’ve been thinking about that jungle gym we put up for the school…why don’t we drive over to Eureka and get a smaller version of that for Katie’s yard. The front yard, where there’s room and she can see them from the porch. Interested?”

Conner tilted his head and lifted a brow. “Are you thinking with a jungle gym in the yard you might be able to sneak Katie into the house for a little nookie?”

“Now, why would I think something like that?” Dylan asked, affronted.

Conner shrugged. “Probably what I would be thinking if Les had a couple of kids. But don’t do that. Really, don’t. And I’ll ask Jack if he minds.”

“I’ll split the cost,” Dylan said. “Might keep her around longer.”

“You’re a peculiar guy, Dylan,” he said. “You’re looking at two possibilities for yourself—L.A. or Montana. Yet you want to help me keep her here? Is that to take the heat off? So you can leave her here without feeling guilty?”

“Not that, Conner. I’m on your team. Katie should have someone in her camp she can depend on and the boys need their uncle. I wish I was a better bet,” he said. “With the kind of work I do, you never know where I’ll end up.”

And yet, Dylan was still here. Unable to leave. He could just as easily go back to Payne to await that phone call from Jay Romney, but he hadn’t.



Dylan and Conner went to Eureka together on a Tuesday afternoon to pick up that play set for the cabin. Katie was surprised and so delighted she could hardly contain herself. The boys were immediately crawling all over the pieces until their mother yelled at them not to get the parts all mixed up.

“I think I can get this together,” Dylan said to Conner. “Why don’t you swing by tomorrow after work and see if I put it together to your satisfaction.”

“If you have Katie to help, it’ll be done right.”

“You sound like you trained her yourself.”

“Nope,” Conner said. “But the same guy who trained me, trained her.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“Don’t get the idea we’re bonded here,” Conner said. “I’m still pretty concerned about what’s going on with you and my sister.”

Dylan shook his head in a silent chuckle. “Probably a good thing you ended up here, Conner. I think you’re perfect for this place.”

Conner narrowed his eyes. “Why do I get the impression that’s not a compliment?”

“That kind of thinking is why I haven’t dated a female in Payne, Montana, since the senior prom. Not everyone who likes each other ends up married for fifty years. And Katie can think for herself, believe me.”

“That’s what she keeps telling me, but I still look out for her.”

Dylan slapped a hand on Conner’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Conner.”

“We’re not bonded…”

“Right,” Dylan said. “Got it.”

Dylan passed Katie on the road—she was taking the boys to summer program while he was en route to her cabin to work on erecting the play set. He was still studying the plans when she returned. He suspected she was speeding to get there.

“Let me see,” she said, taking the instructions out of his hands. She glanced at them for less than one full minute. “Okay. Good,” she said. And then she went to the back of her SUV, lifted the hatch and the floor and pulled out tools and—his eyes almost popped out—a pink tool belt.

“Whoa,” he said as she buckled it around her hips. “Katie, baby, I’m not going to be able to concentrate on the joints and trusses if you wear that thing around your hips.”

She laughed as she secured her belt, then reached back into the SUV for her toolbox. “We’ll have this thing together in no time. I’ll do some measuring and you can dig the holes to secure it.” She pulled on gloves, grinning at him. “Wanna get going here?”

“You don’t know what I want to do,” he said.

“Get the post digger. The one Conner left. And get ready to work.”

They started at nine-thirty in the morning. At two in the afternoon they stood looking at the finished product, the posts still settling in fast-drying cement. Given there would only be two rambunctious little boys at a time on the jungle gym, there was no concern about it not being quite dry when they were home from their summer school.

“Perfect,” she said. “Want a quick shower?”

“After a quick something else…”

“I’m all sweaty…”

He got an evil grin on his face. His eyes were glowing. “I know.”

“Are you ninety-nine-percent testosterone?”

“I want you. I’ve been fighting it all day. That tool belt…”

“Want to sing a round of ‘YMCA’?” she asked with amusement and a lift of her eyebrow.

He approached her looking lethal, grabbing her around the waist. “Sadly, the tool belt will have to go…”

“What if Conner comes early…”

“Won’t he be surprised,” Dylan said, undoing the tool belt. “You and me. Now.”

She sighed and took him by the hand. “Come on, Dylan. You know, I think I give in to you way too much.”

“If you’re suffering, I’ll back off,” he said, but he said it with his usual naughty smile.

“You take very good care of me,” she said. “But I’m not sure how you survive in Montana if you don’t get involved with the local talent. For someone so determined to never marry, I’ve never met a man who needs a good wife more than you.”



Katie’s words really hit home with him. Not so much because she was right, which he realized she was, but because he’d never been in a relationship like this. Thirty-five years old and she was his first steady girl since high school. Never mind all his determination to remain single and childless, he’d never met a woman who was so hard to leave. A woman whose special scent and the perfume of her hair and skin made him love drunk. Her body beneath his hands put a fire in him; her voice lulled him and brought him ease. Her laugh lifted his spirits and her self-confidence somehow made him more sure of himself.

Katie might be the one woman in the universe he wanted to touch, to caress and possess, but she was hardly the first person to make this observation about him—that he needed a good, one-man woman in his life. Lang and Adele had made similar comments, though not based on any knowledge of his sexual needs, needs he’d never before been so aware of. Satisfaction usually set him free; sex with Katie only left him wanting more.

Adele had witnessed, while Dylan was growing up, how much he had longed for a safe and nurturing family unit and would often remind him, “Remember that TV family is make-believe, Dylan. Don’t depend on it for love.” And his best friend would see him around his own family, around Sue Ann and all the kids, and often remark that Dylan had himself all wrong—he was probably the most marriageable man around. “It’s obvious you take to it,” Lang often said. “You’re calmer hanging out around all these little hoodlums than I am.”

It was true. The one thing he had long been avoiding was a connection like the one he had with Katie. He feared it more than anything else. He wasn’t sure where she found her strength, but he wasn’t made of the same stuff. Having her and losing her, by any means—death, divorce, even malignant discord, it would kill him.

The boys were wild about their play set. Dylan and Katie sat on the porch and watched them risk life and limb testing the limits of the jungle gym. Katie interjected commands like, “Not upside down, please,” “That’s too high!” and “Don’t do that!”

And once Dylan said, “Andy! It’s Mitch’s turn!”

And they all stopped dead still and stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You can tell them apart,” Katie said softly.

Could he? Well, maybe he did that once. It must have been subconscious. It was definitely spontaneous.

“Well, I’ve been around a while now.”

“A little over a month,” she said, smiling at him. “But you’re leaving in a couple of days, right?”

He turned to look at her. “Have I stayed too long?” he asked her. “So long that when I leave now, because I will have to go, will it hurt you so much that you hate me?”

She looked at him, patiently shaking her head. “Dylan, did I say or do anything that made you think I was involved with you against my will?”

“Of course you didn’t…”

“I’m not offended that you have so little faith in me. You haven’t known me long enough to judge that fairly. But sometimes it hurts me how little faith you have in yourself.” She gave his cheek a stroke. “Do what you have to do. You’ve had so many successes in your life, stop being so afraid of failure. You’re not going to fail.”

Those eyes of hers put him in a trance. He could drown in those eyes. He found himself leaning toward her and she turned in her chair to lean into him. And their lips met. He threaded his hand around her neck, his fingers stretching into her hair and he moved over her mouth with longing.

And there was a shriek and a shout from the yard, breaking them apart. “Ew, Mom, gross,” Andy cried. And Mitch pulled Andy to him and made wild smacking noises. They hugged like little bears and fell to the ground, rolling around in the dirt as they made kissing noises and laughed themselves stupid.

“Silly asses,” Dylan muttered to Katie’s laughter.



Almost daily, Dylan rode to the top of that hill where his view was sensational and his iPhone reception was excellent. It was a Thursday afternoon; he’d spent some time with Katie in the morning and now was attending to his business. His first call was always to Childress Aviation. And the news was not getting any better.

“Dylan, buddy, we’ve had charter cancellations, the BBJ leasing company came for their jet and they’re talking about holding us to the lease. That would definitely wipe out petty cash.”

“We had petty cash?” Dylan asked.

“By September we’re going to have to shut down the training center—not enough instructors or students to run it. I thought we could limp along for six months, but it doesn’t look like it. By fall we’ll be down to just the fixed base operation—storage, maintenance, fueling and landing facilities. I’m sorry, buddy. We’ll be joining the ranks of many other small airports in this country, gasping for breath.”

“I’ll be on the road in a couple of hours,” he said when he could find his voice.

“There’s no hurry, man. There’s nothing you can do here. Come home when you feel like it. I’m sending out résumés—just looking, just in case something pops up. If I get a job offer, I’m going to take it.”

“Flying job?” Dylan asked.

“I’ve heard some shipping companies are hiring pilots for freight transport. Multiengine heavies, which, thanks to you and your fancy BBJ, I’m qualified to fly. I might as well throw out my net. It wouldn’t have to be forever, just until we get back on our feet.”

It was on Dylan’s lips to shout Don’t do it! He knew Lang wanted to live and work in Payne; wanted to raise his family there. So he said, “I know you have your reasons…”

“Five of ’em,” Lang said.

“I understand. But you want to live in Montana…”

“I’m just looking around, D. You can’t carry us all forever, not on just a little airport that gets minimal use. I’ll let you know if I get any promising news.”

Dylan pressed his thumb and finger into his eyes, trying to ease the ache there. If Lang got a job offer, he’d probably have to move to a larger city, a larger base of operations. He felt like shouting, You’re my only family! You can’t move away! He said, “We probably should have done this a long time ago, when we could have found flying jobs at the same company…”

“Nah, we had us some good years here and I don’t regret a day of it. With any luck, and we’re due some, you can operate this company on your own. You can still instruct—you’ll get the occasional student. With Stu on maintenance, you’ll have yourself a two-man show. It’s your land, after all.”

“Only sort of,” he said. It was Adele’s land. They’d paid back what they owed her for the runway and buildings, but she wouldn’t take lease payments on the house or land. And he was her only heir.

“Your gran will be fine with it, Dylan. Listen, try not to take this personally—it’s a shitty time for businesses like ours. Can’t make a living if you can’t gas up the planes.”

“I feel responsible. I feel like—”

“Bugger off,” Lang said. “We knew what we were doing. We did what we wanted to do. We could’ve gone to work for a commercial carrier and been furloughed ten times by now. We had it good, we just didn’t have it forever. I’m not divorcing you, I’m just going to try to get another job.”

“Carry your cell,” Dylan said unnecessarily. Of course he’d have his cell with him.

“I’ll talk to you in the next couple of days. Don’t let this gut you, D. It’s just change, it’s not the end of the world. We do what we have to do.”

“Right,” he said. “Good luck, man.”

The truth was, Dylan could manage his livelihood just as Lang described, though it would be reasonably modest. But then Dylan, alone, didn’t need much. He just hated cutting all those other people—Lang, instructors, charter pilots—out of the loop because the company fell on hard times. And since he had a chance to try to save it, he had to at least give it a shot. But he was running low on time and Hollywood had a reputation for moving with all the speed of bureaucracy. If Jay didn’t have anything soon, Dylan would have to get back to Montana and try to drum up something to pay the bills. He was open to anything from crop dusting to renting a big truck and turning his airline into a moving company.

When they signed off, he called Jay Romney. “I hope you have something encouraging to tell me,” Dylan said. “If you don’t, I’m going to have to—”

“I have excellent news, and thanks for your patience. I have an interested director and a script I optioned last year that I think you’ll love,” he said. “The director is Sean Adams—big name with a lot of juice. He’d like a meeting. Can you meet us at my office on Monday at noon? I’ll have lunch catered in.”

“I’ll be there,” Dylan said. “And, Jay, until we have something nailed down, not a word to anyone.”

“Absolutely. Tell me your nearest airport, son,” Jay said. “I’ll have a chartered jet bring you in.”

Dylan burst out laughing. “Is that right?” Dylan could’ve brokered that deal if he’d been at home. “I’ll get there. I’ll give you my ticket stub and you can reimburse me.”

How funny was that—apparently there were some business entities that still made use of charters.

Dylan would fly down. He’d try to make a deal. Because his best friend might be right, it might be time for a change. But just in case Lang didn’t get a flying job right away, Dylan was going to find a way to keep Lang and other employees who were left behind in paychecks. He could sacrifice a few months on a set to get that done.

He’d have to give himself at least one extra day in L.A. before meeting with Romney and Adams—a day to buy some “meeting clothes” since all he had with him were jeans and boots—pretty roughed-up clothes at that.

He dialed again. “Gran, hi,” he said. “I’m headed to L.A. to meet with Jay Romney. Are you going to be in L.A.? I’d like to see you.”

“I’m here for another month, at least,” she said. “Will you stay here?”

He hesitated. He had a feeling he was going to crave a little time alone. “I…ah…I think I’m going to take a rain check on that, Gran. I’ll get a hotel room. But I definitely want to get together. I’ll call you when I have some kind of schedule. It’ll be easier to plan once I know what Jay has to say and whether he needs more of my time. I’ll be sure to fill you in.”

“Dylan,” she began. “Are you coming alone?”

The question almost paralyzed him. The impact of what he was doing hadn’t quite hit him until his grandmother asked. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

“I see,” she said. “Well, call when you get here. I think we’ll have plenty to talk about.”

For now he had plenty to think about. He really was leaving this time, and once he left he couldn’t imagine being able to come back. He had a home in another place and no work in this little mountain town. All he had here was the most awesome woman he’d ever met, and no way to stay with her. He wasn’t sure how to tell her that and even considered just running for his life, something he hadn’t hesitated to do when involved with other women.

He wouldn’t do that to Katie. He’d face her and tell her the truth.



Early Friday morning he packed up his duffel and settled up with Luke Riordan. Katie usually dropped her boys off at nine so he went to the bar for breakfast. Once she was alone, they’d have their talk. He wasn’t sure whether that would happen on her front porch, on their favorite hilltop or wrapped in each other’s arms in bed. But it was happening this morning.

“Kind of moody,” Jack observed, refilling his coffee cup.

“You?”

“No.” Jack laughed. “You.”

Dylan thought about it only briefly before he said, “I’m heading out of town this morning.”

“I know,” Jack said. “Talked to Luke about ten minutes ago.”

Dylan put down his cup. “Could news travel any faster around here?”

“Maybe,” Jack said. “If you had two bartenders.” Then he grinned.

“Well, tuck it under, will you? I just found out I have potential work south of here and haven’t told Katie yet. I mean, we’re not serious or anything, but—”

The phone rang and on his way to answer it, Jack said, “But you’d like to be a gentleman about this?”

“Exactly,” he confirmed.

“I bet we’ll see you again,” Jack said.

“Don’t bet a lot,” Dylan muttered.

Jack lifted the cordless that sat beside the cash register. “Jack’s,” he said. “Yeah? Is that a fact? Oh, yeah, trust me, she’s close. Well, stay inside, I’ll come right out.” He hung up and looked at Dylan. “Katie says she’s got three bear cubs playing on the new jungle gym and she can’t get the boys to the car.” Dylan shot to his feet. “She can’t see the mother, but I guaran-damn-tee you she’s nearby. Real nearby.”

And Dylan shot for the door.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you thinking, man? We’ll go in the truck, you don’t want to be riding out there to chat with Mama Bear on a motorcycle. Let me grab my rifle and tell Preacher to mind the store.” And then he turned and walked through the kitchen, leaving Dylan to follow.

Dylan just stood there for a moment. Then he shot outside and got on his Harley, but he rode it around to the back of the bar and caught Jack just as he was getting into his truck. “I’ll follow you. I can outrun a Mama Bear on this if I have to.”

“Your funeral,” Jack said.

“We have bear in Montana, you know. And not these candy-ass bears—we have grizzlies.”

“I realize that,” Jack said. “I bet you also have a rifle in Montana.”

“I’m a little under-armed this trip. But I’d rather face a bear than a moose.”

“I hear bad things about moose.”

“Who do you think chases them off the runway? Could we move it? Or you’ll be following me.”

“Don’t worry—I told her to stay inside.” And with that, Jack got in the truck and led the way.

Ah, just as I thought, Dylan observed silently. He spotted Mama in the bushes, scavenging. And sure enough, three fat cubs were enjoying the jungle gym. When Jack entered the clearing, her back had been to her cubs, digging around in the bushes, maybe for berries. But she turned and stood to her full and intimidating height; she was an enormous black bear. Jack tooted the horn while Dylan positioned his bike to make a run for it. Mama puffed up and made annoyed noises while her triplets ran for the cover of her skirts. Dylan saw Jack pull the rifle out of the rack.

Jack pressed down on the horn again and both men watched as Mama Bear, not real happy with the situation, disappeared into the brush, her triplets behind her. The men watched as they ambled off as if bored and perturbed. Typical black bear, she was passive and really didn’t want to tango with humans as long as the kids were safe.

Jack gave the horn a couple more blasts, waiting a full minute and then opened the door, rifle in hand. Dylan moved his bike up beside Jack, but kept it running.

“She could be two feet on the other side of the big blackberry bushes, but I kind of doubt it. If she felt threatened, she’d get the triplets to a safer playground. I had to shoot a bear once—same deal. She was scavenging while her cub was curious about the building I was doing at the bar. Next thing you know, I’m in a situation…”

“Those lessons come hard when you’re not raised around ’em,” Dylan said, turning off the bike and raising it on the stand. When he’d been transplanted from the city to the near-wilderness, he knew nothing. Ham, short for Hammond Pierce, the daytime hand, had been a grumpy old coot twenty years ago. He took Dylan under his wing as a matter of survival—if Dylan stupidly got himself killed around the horses, cows or wildlife, Ham would be out of work. Now he was even older, more weathered, crankier, and yet did even more work around the place than he’d done twenty years before.

Dylan ran up on the porch just as the cabin door opened. Katie looked scared. He’d never seen her with that look.

“Maybe I’ve been kidding myself about wanting adventure,” she said. “I threw up in the airplane, the bear scared me to death and I bet if I ever got a chance to learn to rock climb, I’d probably fall off and break my neck. Maybe I’m just a city girl who should stick to books and movies for my adventure fix.”