Wild Man Creek

Eighteen




The end of August remained warm and sunny, which continued to nurture Jill’s gardens. Her melons were coming in large and strong and the pumpkins were so beautiful that she began to plan a pumpkin patch giveaway. She decided she’d put up notices in the bar and church for local families to come out and pick their own pumpkins, free, for Halloween. She’d get Denny’s help to decorate the house and yard. The leaves would begin to turn in a couple of weeks, and there was a feeling of fall in the mountain air as September approached. There was plenty of occasional light rain and the only tending needed was a bit of weeding and harvesting. If one thing had been made perfectly clear in six months of gardening, it was that she could grow fantastic produce. Her business license was granted, her trademark registered, and the county commissioner of agriculture assured her that her crop met all the standards and her registration would be approved.

Colin packed up and shipped to Sedona those few paintings he had completed since meeting Shiloh Tahoma. Shiloh had sent another check and was happy to hang whatever new work Colin sent him. Additionally, Colin sent a very nice wedding gift to Clay and Lilly Tahoma—in part gratitude for making that connection for him.

Then, too soon, the day came. Jill was more than willing to drive Colin all the way to San Francisco for his flight, but he had made other arrangements. Luke would drive him to an airport shuttle pickup in Fortuna. “I want to say goodbye to you, leave you on your back porch and go. Even though we both know this is how it should be, I don’t expect either one of us is going to like it too much. Especially the morning we say goodbye.”

When they had their last night together, Colin’s large duffel and camera case packed and ready, Jill took herself to a remote place in her mind. She thought about the pure happiness she’d had for months and it brought her comfort. She thought about the hundreds of thousands of soldiers who had left their families to go to faraway lands where they’d be willing to risk their lives for their homeland. Surely this could not be as difficult.

She concentrated on Colin. They made sweet, slow love and she wondered how she would endure without this in her life; she wondered how long she would have to make do without it. Then they rested, curled around each other. She didn’t sleep and suspected he didn’t, either. In the morning they shared the shower and one last and more frantic coupling. As he was emptying himself inside her, her legs around his waist and his lips against her neck, he whispered, “I don’t know how I’ll manage even a day without you.”

Any other woman would have taken that moment to say, Don’t go! Don’t go! Let me be what you need! Stay with me!

Not Jill. “You’ll have to manage,” she whispered back. “You’re going to renew your strength, to get your life back. You’ll send me wonderful pictures. And you’ll come to see me when you can.” Then she sighed and added with a whisper, “I’ll be right here.”

They were having coffee on the back porch, the sun barely up when Luke pulled into the drive. They both stood up. It was time. Colin grabbed his duffel, tossed it in the back of Luke’s truck along with his camera case. But then, of course, he went back to her as she stood on the top step of the porch. He stood one step below her, giving them equal height, and with his arms around her waist, he kissed her deeply.

She had saved the words. She had never intended that her feelings would manipulate him or attempt to change him. “You should know something, Colin. I love you. Please travel safe. And in all the exciting things you do, please take care.”

“Of course I will,” he said, showing no surprise. “I love you, too, Jilly.”

She smiled. “I know. I felt it.”

“I knew it, too,” he said. “You showed me every day. Every night. That’s perfect, when you think about it—we both knew, both felt it, never really had to say it.”

She smiled and touched his cheek. “Send me pictures. Let me know you’re having a wonderful time.”

“I’ll call or email when I get there. Will you take pictures of the garden? Of the pumpkins? Those monster squash?”

“I will,” she said with a laugh.

“I think you have some blue-ribbon pumpkins there,” he said, giving her nose a gentle little kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you so much, Colin, but I want you to have everything. Everything, Colin. I want you to be one hundred percent fulfilled. I don’t want there to ever come a day when you mutter I should have in disappointment.”

“Six months will go by quickly,” he said.

“Sure it will.” But he’d never misled her about the length of his absence. This trip would be six months, but after that he would try other countries, other possibilities. If he found a satisfying, fulfilling flying job, he was only coming back here for visits. Colin had wanderlust and hungry adrenaline; he needed to keep moving, keep challenging his easily bored spirit. How many years would this passionate love last with a short visit every six months?

“Take care. Watch out for Denny. He feels like a little brother to me.”

She laughed a little. “I told him that, too. Don’t worry about Denny. He’s in good hands.”

“Goodbye, Jilly,” he said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Soon,” she echoed.

And then she watched him get in his brother’s truck and disappear down the long drive.



Jillian did what she did best—she concentrated on the garden. Of course, she wasn’t as lighthearted or joyful. She was in mourning, though she fully expected it to pass soon. After all, she’d had many losses in her life and she’d weathered them well. At least Colin was perfectly fine, just not in her home or her bed.

She was a little quiet for a while, and Denny asked her if she was doing all right and she said that of course she missed Colin, but that was to be expected.

It was two days before there was contact from Colin. She received two emails. One was a group mailing to her and everyone in his family describing the long flight, the connecting flights in a couple of small prop planes from South Africa through Mozambique to Tanzania. He included pictures he’d taken along the way. He explained that once he hooked up with his safari group, he would very likely be out of touch for a while. And he also mentioned that before leaving on safari he had already made arrangements to take a tour of Mount Kilimanjaro. He’d decided against any mountain climbing, but was booked on a helicopter tour! He wished everyone well and told them not to worry if they didn’t hear from him.

The second email was more personal.



Jilly, I’m not too far from where my brother served in that disaster that was Somalia. I was so young then. If you’d asked me even five years ago if I’d ever be interested in this place, I would have said no! Yet what I’ve seen of this continent so far is heart-stopping in beauty. I can’t wait to get to the park, to the safari. It could be as long as weeks before I can send pictures, but I picked up a couple of international cell phones. I’ll try to call, though I’m told communication is limited. Meanwhile, tend your prizewinning crop and think of me sometimes.

Love, Colin



She spent more time indoors after that, while Denny did some chores around the gardens. Not surprisingly, she did some crying. She’d gone from mourning to grieving, not only missing him but letting go of the expectations for a life with him that she’d hidden deep in her heart. She had been lying to herself that she was going to be able to let go without a fight.

After ten days some pictures came. Rhinoceros, elephants, cheetah, apes, even a lion! And the email that accompanied the pictures—which he sent to the entire group was short but exuberant. He was filled with excitement and exhilaration. She could feel the energy in his words.

At first it made her heart soar with happiness, that he reached out to her. She reveled in the pictures, looking at them over and over, reading and rereading the brief email. But there was no second, more personal note this time. And there still had not been a phone call. Her heart began to ache.

“Denny,” she said to him one Friday morning, “I need a little personal time. Take a week. Full pay, of course. Visit friends. Look up some of the state fair girls you met. Do chores around town. Whatever. I just want to tend my crop alone. I need a little time by myself and I don’t want to hide in the house or make you uncomfortable.”

“Are you going to be okay, Jillian?” he asked her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’ll be fine. Just missing him a little more than I thought I would.” She forced a smile. “My gardens heal me, but there could be some… Well, there could be some emotion I’m not real comfortable sharing with anyone. Please, just give me a week and then I’m sure we’ll be squared away. I’ll see you a week from Monday.”

“Listen, if there’s anything you need—”

“I apologize, but I just want my house and yard to myself for a little while. Solitude and my plants make me feel better.” She shrugged. “I have experience with it.”

She could tell Denny was reluctant to leave her alone, but he was such a sensitive guy, he gave her what she asked for. She felt so bad—she hadn’t even shared the most recent pictures with him! And of course Denny would be interested in what was going on with Colin, as well! But somehow she just couldn’t. She promised herself that when he came back to work in a week, she’d be all straightened out and they’d look at the pictures together.

Once Denny was gone, she let it go. The crying she’d been holding inside for God knew how long came flooding out of her. Her tears fell on many plants; she let them run down her cheeks and fall onto her T-shirt. She talked to him, though he was thousands of miles away. Colin, oh Colin, is it everything you wanted, everything you imagined and needed? Does every cell in your body scream that this was the right thing to do? Do you think of me sometimes?

I think of you all the time… All the time…

Because she was clearly depressed over Colin’s departure, Kelly had taken to calling her several times a day, worried about her. Jillian had never hidden herself from her sister, but she didn’t take most of those calls. She had her cell phone hooked to her belt even in the garden, even though the reception wasn’t great in the trees. If it was her sister she often let it go to voice mail while she was grooming and tending the plants. She could return those calls later, but she couldn’t bear the thought of missing a call from Colin.

Then, before Kelly had to go to work, Jillian would climb up onto the widow’s walk where the reception was superb and dial up Kelly. She had always been able to tell Kelly everything. She was painfully honest about how much she missed him, how lonely her days and nights were, how afraid she was that she’d never get to feel that kind of love and romance again. Through tears she described Colin’s two emails, how magnificent the pictures, how enthusiastic the updates. He was happy, that much was clear.

“Did you always think that at the last minute Colin would either stay or compromise in some other way?” Kelly asked.

And Jillian was again in tears. “I did,” she admitted. “Plus, since I always knew it was right to encourage him to follow his dreams, I never thought I’d go to pieces like this! Why would he want someone who couldn’t support him any better than this?”

“You’re asking a lot of yourself,” Kelly said. “Very hard to let go of a man you love. Can’t you give yourself a break?”

“I’m going to get past this,” Jill said. “You’re going to think this sounds awful, but I want a man who says, ‘If I died tomorrow in your arms, I would feel there was nothing in my life I’d missed.’ Very selfish,” she added. “I want to be his end-all, be-all. He’s my everything. I want to be his everything, too.”

“Would you give up Jilly Farms?” Kelly asked.

“See? There you have it! Maybe that’s why I’m crying! Because what I really want is that neither of us has to give up anything! And yet, feel that we have everything!”

“Don’t worry, kid. This is going to pass. It just takes time.”

“Yes,” Jill said. “Yes, time. I guess at least six months.”



Denny sat at the bar, nursing his beer.

“Dinner tonight?” Jack asked him, giving the bar a wipe.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Haven’t seen too much of you lately. Things busy at the farm?”

Denny took a swallow. “I haven’t been to the farm. Things are kinda slow and Jillian wanted some time to herself. I think Colin being gone really bites for her.”

“I imagine,” Jack said. “They looked pretty tight.”

“I don’t think that even touches it. I think he was crazy to give her up, but I have to admit, I envy him a little. At least he had a plan.”

“So,” Jack began, “where have you been, if not working?”

Denny shrugged. “Lots of fishing. Not much catching.”

“Alone?” Jack asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Denny casually lifted his beer. “I guess I needed some think time. Just like Jillian.”

“Listen, son, it hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve been giving yourself lots of think time ever since—”

“You don’t have to call me that. Son.”

Jack was struck silent for a moment. Then he frowned. “All right, Dennis,” he said. “You’ve been all upside down since our day at the river. That was weeks ago now and I figured you’d come to terms with it. I know you’re disappointed. Hell, who wouldn’t be? But it is what it is and we go on from there.”

“As far as I can tell, you haven’t told anyone the truth.”

“I told you, Denny. It doesn’t make any difference. We’re exactly the same as we were. I don’t like you any less and I assume you don’t like me any less. You said you weren’t looking for a kidney, anyway.” Then Jack tried a smile. It didn’t seem to break the ice much. “Denny,” he said, leaning close. “Family isn’t what we’re stuck with. It’s what we make it.”

“Sometimes it’s what we’re stuck with,” he argued.

“Think again, bud. When you’ve got some a*shole with your DNA, you give him a real wide berth and forget to send the Christmas card. Pretty soon he gets the message that DNA isn’t enough.”

“Maybe not, but you can’t fake DNA.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I never did score real high on reassuring angry young men. At least when Rick came home without his leg, I knew some things to do. But—”

“What did you do?” Denny asked.

“I drove him to physical therapy so I could be sure he went and I personally delivered his sorry ass to the counselor because if he wasn’t going to talk to me, he was damn sure going to talk to someone.” He lifted a brow and the corner of his mouth. “You need a ride to the shrink?”

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” he said, grimacing.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” Jack said. “But I am starting to feel a little fed up. I didn’t cut you off when it turned out we weren’t as connected as you thought. I just can’t figure out why you wouldn’t return the favor.”

“I thought I made it clear, Jack. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Well you owe me a few things,” Jack said. “When I put myself out for a friend, a brother, I expect acknowledgment if nothing else. Trust would be good. Maybe a little goodwill. Or how about this? How about my friend doesn’t act all pissed off all the time, like I just don’t measure up? You know, I told you the truth because it’s what you deserve. You expected me to bail out, but I never expected you to!”

Denny was quiet for a moment. Then he slowly drank about half his beer, put a couple of bucks on the bar and stood. “Sorry, Jack. Looks like I disappointed you from the start and I just can’t stop.” And then he turned and walked out of the bar.

Jack scowled blackly, insulted to his core. Then he picked up the money and threw it over the bar. “Buy a f*cking drink in my f*cking bar?” he muttered, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “No f*cking way.”

He turned around, steamed.

Before the door closed on Denny, Luke Riordan walked in just in time to see the bills flutter to the floor. He stopped short for a second, then he bent to pick up the money. He put it on the bar just as Jack was turning back. “Lose something?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Maybe.” He gave the bar a wipe. “Taking a Brett break?”

“Yeah, he’s teething. Shelby said I looked like I’d had about enough. Beer?”

“Sure.” Jack put one on the bar.

Luke took a drink. “She’s a wise woman, that wife of mine,” Luke said. “So, Denny mention how things are going out at Jillian’s?”

“Not sure I can answer that, but she gave him a week off. She said she needed some time alone, or something like that.”

Luke sat up straighter. “She’s not alone enough with my brother in Africa?”

“Sounds like she’s missing him. No news there.”

Luke was quiet for a long moment. He didn’t lift the beer again, but he frowned. Then he put his two bucks on the bar and stood. “Gotta go. Thanks, Jack.”

Jack was completely aggravated. “Doesn’t anyone finish a beer around here anymore?”



It was just a little after four in the afternoon when Luke made the turn onto the drive that led up to the Victorian. Colin had been gone three weeks. Luke wanted to kick himself for not coming over sooner. He had called Jillian the first week and she said all was well, though she missed him. Ironically, so did Luke! The second week he had run into Denny at the bar and the young man said Jillian was a little on the quiet side—no big surprise. But there were no problems to report.

But Luke hadn’t seen her since Colin left and there was simply no excuse for that. Even though Colin had stupidly left her for six months of fun and games on another continent, this was Colin’s woman. It was an unspoken commitment the Riordan men had—they looked after each other’s families. Jillian was as close as it had ever come with Colin.

Luke pulled along the house to the rear, expecting to find Jillian in the garden. But she was right there on the porch, feet drawn up under her in the chair, multicolored quilt wrapped around her shoulders, big furry slippers sticking out.

He flashed a brief grin as he got out of his truck, but the grin slowly faded. She didn’t look so good. And she was still wearing her pajamas. It was doubtful she’d dressed this early for bed. More likely, she had never dressed for the day. Maybe more than one day.

He stepped up onto the porch, looked at her gaunt, tearstained face and said, “Aw, honey…”

That’s all it took for her shoulders to begin to shake with the strain of barely audible sobs. “Don’t,” she said in a tense whisper. “Don’t you dare tell him!”

“Here,” he said, reaching for her hand. She had little choice but to comply and he pulled her to her feet, then took her chair and brought her down on his lap, holding her like a small child. “It’s sure no crime to cry when you miss someone,” he said.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and sobbed. “It is,” she choked out. “Because I understand what he needs. I do! This is so important to him. This is what I want for him. To feel like he’s one hundred percent again, to feel like himself again!”

“That doesn’t seem to be working for you, Jillian,” he said. “You’re falling apart.”

“That’s why you can’t ever tell him! The thing he loved best about me was that I was strong enough and loved him enough to encourage him to go, to do what he had to do. If going was what he needed, I wanted him to do it.”

“Ever consider telling him what you need?”

She shook her head. “What I want, you mean? What I don’t want is a man who did what some woman asked of him even though it left something empty and unfulfilled inside him. That would be like asking him to give up what he needs just so I can be more comfortable. I couldn’t do that to Colin….”

“Jill, you should have told him you love him.”

“Of course I told him I love him. That I love him and want him to have everything he needs. Luke, that accident—it cost him more than any of us can relate to. It left not only his body broken, but his spirit, too. If he doesn’t get that back, what good is he? To me or anyone? I love him. I want him to be whole again.”

Luke snorted. “He looked all right to me.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I thought he was in good shape, too. But I can’t count the number of times he told me he just wanted to fly again, to challenge himself again. He told me painting was good, but too tame. He’s forty years old and since he was twenty he’s been flying, traveling, skydiving and who knows what else. He said he’d be ready to slow down someday, but he wasn’t about to let that accident and the problems that followed do it for him.” She looked into Luke’s eyes and a fat tear ran down her cheek. “I sure wasn’t going to be the second thing in his life to force him to settle for less. To live a life that didn’t suit him, that didn’t give him a sense of value. Do you have any idea what it’s like when a man feels like a failure?”

Oh, let’s see, Luke thought to himself. He’d been in three Black Hawk accidents in his career, the first one in Mogadishu and it had been pretty serious. He had been young then and had come home to his pregnant wife only to learn the baby she was having wasn’t his. So long ago. Suicidal tendencies had followed that…. Years of living on the edge to avoid living an authentic life. And later, after finding Shelby, almost losing her out of the sheer stupidity of believing he couldn’t deserve her. “He’s such an idiot,” Luke muttered. “I thought I had the franchise on that.”

“You must promise you won’t ever tell him you found me like this,” she said. “I don’t want him to come home because I need him, because I’m pathetic. I want him to come home because this is where he wants to be. Do you promise?”

He wiped a tear off her cheek. “I promise. Have you heard from him?”

“Just the emails. The same ones you got. And there was one short one just for me. Two weeks ago.”

“No phone calls?” Luke asked.

“He’s in the jungle, Luke.”

“Don’t they have some kind of communications?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “He told everyone not to be worried if he was out of touch. I just wish… It would have been nice to hear his voice before he went into the wild. You know.”

“Do the two of you have some kind of plans for after this? Like when he comes back? Because…”

But she was shaking her head. “He said he’d keep looking for a good flying job, an exciting flying job. Something that can compete with flying for the Army, I guess. If not Africa, maybe New Zealand or Alaska. And he said he’d paint, but he couldn’t be happy just painting. I think I’m smart enough to know he couldn’t be happy on a farm where the most exciting thing that happens is the first Russian Rose tomato comes in.”

“He had no idea what’s next for him? Because he never suggested to the rest of us that this was just the beginning… He said six months….”

She shook her head. “Unless he found that flying job he’s looking for,” she said. “He said he told you all that if he found something he liked, it could be longer than six months.”

“Yeah, I guess he said something like that.”

“Maybe that’s what’s so hard now. He might find he does just fine without me, that it’s time to move on….”

Luke started to laugh.

“Funny?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s funny. I really thought I was the biggest blockhead in the family. Good of Colin to outshine me in this area. Remind me to thank him.”

“Sure,” she said. “Can I show you something private?”

Luke frowned. “I don’t know if I want to see anything private. Could be embarrassing…”

“You’ll get over it, Luke. You might not know all about your brother. Come with me,” she said, getting off his lap. She let the quilt drop in the other porch chair and walked through the kitchen and up the stairs.

As Luke followed her, he was vaguely aware that she’d grown thin. Well, she didn’t have much to spare to begin with, but it seemed she’d been more solid before Colin’s departure. He followed her into the bedroom and there, over the bed, were two large oils. Nudes. A woman in a big straw hat that hid most of her face. Only the curve of a breast or roundness of her butt were visible, but just the line of the jaw and tilt of the smile made these portraits out to be Jillian. And the Jillian in the paintings was much rounder, fuller, more muscular than the one who stood before him, her pajamas hanging off her trim frame.

“He gave me these before he left. They were a complete surprise.”

“My brother painted these?” Luke asked, though he knew the answer.

She nodded.

Luke shook his head. He whistled. “I was never exactly jealous of this, that he could do this. I don’t have any interest. But damn. I wonder if that pain-in-the-ass brother of mine has any idea how much he has to be grateful for.” He turned to look at Jillian. “I kind of doubt it. He’s got a gift, but he’s not all that bright.”

Jillian laughed in spite of herself. “Stop. He’s very smart.”

“Aw, you and Shelby, always sticking up for him. I don’t get it.”

“You’re both good guys. I don’t know why you don’t get along better.”

“Because he’s a blockhead and a pain in the ass,” Luke said. “Now you get a shower and get on some jeans. I’m taking you home to dinner and don’t argue. We’re not going to say anything to Colin, should we ever hear from that lowlife idiot again, but you’re obviously not eating. Probably not sleeping much, either. Waste of your time, crying over that a*shole if you ask me, but this is gonna get fixed. Don’t tell Shelby I said this, but she’s not a great cook—but tonight is pot roast and she hardly ever makes it inedible. There will be plentiful wine with it and dessert which, thank God, she bought. The food and wine will go a long way to helping you sleep. I’m going to make sure you eat and sleep until you get back to your old self.”

“You don’t have to do this, Luke….”

“But I am. You think you’re the first person whose heart hurt? Aw, hell, Jillian—the Riordans are famous for it. Since we can’t change Colin, we’re gonna have to get you on your feet.”

“It’s pretty embarrassing,” she said. “I didn’t want anyone to—”

“To care about you?” he asked. He took a step toward her. “I think my brother made a mistake. I think he’s going to regret it—taking off like that. I think it’s possible he’s an idiot savant and this is just something he got, this painting thing. But he should have planned ahead better, made sure you were willing to wait for him while he did whatever it is he thinks he has to do. There should have been an expiration date on this ego-feeding thing he has going on. But the man who painted those,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, growing serious and even respectful. “That man worships you. It’s obvious.”

Jillian smiled sentimentally. She knew that. Colin loved her. But would that ever bring him back to her?

“Now let’s concentrate on getting you back on your feet. You have a farm to run. My wife loves getting your vegetables. She hardly ever screws up salad.”