Wild Man Creek

Nineteen




Luke brought Jillian to his house, fed her, plied her with good red wine, dessert and left her in Shelby’s expert hands. For three days Shelby carried food and understanding to Jillian at the Victorian, or forced Jillian to come to her house. Jillian might not have eaten otherwise. They talked about their men and experiences with them, about how much they loved them and how much it could hurt while waiting for them to figure out their heads. In that time Jillian began to sleep better at night, regain her appetite and cry less often. She also became very close to Shelby.

Who would figure Luke could be capable of knowing how to help heal a woman’s broken heart? But in an abstract way, he’d been responsible.

“It’s strange that Luke, such a clumsy romantic, came to you to help,” Shelby said. “But these Riordan men. They have so much conflict between them and yet they do all they can for each other. Aiden came to me. He flew all the way to Hawaii to find me, dry my tears, prop me up. His mission was to try to explain why Luke was so impossible to reach.”

“And did he?” Jillian asked.

“He did. But you’ve met Aiden. It doesn’t take long to figure out how wise and sensitive he is—I guess he has to be as a woman’s doctor. Who would guess Luke could be sensitive enough to do the same thing?” She smiled. “I’m glad you got to see that, Jill. I’m glad someone besides me knows how really special my Luke is.”

In no time Shelby was harvesting right alongside Jillian, taking home great quantities of delicious and precious vegetables and melons.

And Jillian was feeling stronger and more confident. She wasn’t missing Colin any less, but she realized she had to fill her life with more than grief and worry. There were people in her life who would be friends. And there was her work—she vowed to focus on her own ambitions while Colin experimented with his.

She took pictures of some of the crop and she fired off a few emails for Colin to receive whenever he was able to next make an internet connection.

She was no longer sobbing and losing weight, thanks to Luke and Shelby. But she still thought about Colin constantly. She slept on his pillow, inhaling that special scent that grew fainter by the day, and she dreamed about him. She had taken to lying down in the afternoon for a while to make up for the sleep she lost at night. But she was on the mend. For the first time since he left almost four weeks ago, she believed she would survive no matter what came next.

Jillian was ready for some semblance of normalcy, but it was not to come quickly. On the morning she would have expected Denny to return to work with her, he crept silently up her drive, tiptoed onto the back porch and slipped an envelope in the crack of the back door. It wasn’t even 6:00 a.m. but she happened to be up. She’d been awake since five, on the heels of another vivid dream about Colin, and since she was awake she wanted to see the sun rise over the tall trees that surrounded the house and gardens. Because of that, the only light on in the big Victorian was the little red light on the coffeepot. Denny would have assumed she was still in bed.

She thought about snatching open the door and calling out to him, but instead she simply slid the envelope inside, opened it and looked at the contents. There was a handwritten, folded piece of paper for her and a sealed envelop upon which Jack’s name was written. Her note said,

Dear Jillian, I’m sorry to be leaving you without notice, but after giving it a lot of thought, I’ve decided to go back to San Diego. I enjoyed working with you, but I think I’ll find more opportunities in the city where I grew up. Thank you for everything and I hope you’re very successful. And if you would please give the enclosed letter to Jack, I’d appreciate it. Thank you. Denny



That’s it? she asked herself. After all we’ve done? This was all wrong, she thought. That Denny would leave her like this, knowing how much he liked the gardens and how alone she was at the moment, that was bad enough. But sneaking his letter of resignation in the predawn hours? Leaving a letter for Jack rather than talking with him? Slipping away before anyone could say goodbye?

She picked up the phone and called the bar, hoping that line would ring into the house. She supposed if no one picked up she could find Jack or Mel’s number by calling around, though it was awful early for that.

“Jack’s Bar,” a gruff voice said.

“Preacher?”

“That’s me,” he said, sounding fully awake and alert.

“It’s Jillian. Listen, something very weird just happened—”

“You all right?”

“Fine. But I was sitting in the kitchen, in the dark, waiting to see the sunrise, when Denny slipped a note in the door and took off. The note says he’s leaving and asked that I give a letter to Jack for him. It’s in a sealed envelope, Preacher. Denny is sneaking away for some reason. This makes no sense.”

“Crap,” Preacher said. “Thanks, Jillian. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”



Preacher called Jack and Jack called Jo Ellen Fitch, Denny’s landlady, while he was pulling on jeans and boots. “Jo, sorry about the early hour…”

“I’m up, Jack. I start early.”

“I need you to check and see if Denny’s around. He left a note for Jillian saying he’s leaving town.”

“Leaving town?” she echoed. “He didn’t say anything to me. Why wouldn’t he say anything to—” She stopped talking and Jack could hear her opening her door. “What in the world…? Jack? There’s an envelope in my door and there’s… There’s money in it. It’s the balance he owed for the rest of the month. He paid by the week and— And, his truck seems to be gone. You want me to read the note, Jack?”

“Never mind. That’s all I needed to know. I’ll get back to you later.” He put the phone on its base and muttered, “Son of a bitch!”

Mel sat up in bed, her hair all a mess. “What in the world is going on?”

“Denny bolted. He left notes for Jillian, Jo Fitch and one for me. Says he’s going home.”

“And where are you going?” she asked.

“Possibly all the way to San Diego. Can you get the kids together without my help before going to the clinic?”

“Sounds like I’d better be able to,” Mel said. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said. He leaned down, gave her a kiss and said, “We don’t do things like this. We don’t leave notes!”



Denny figured it was all for the best, that he just head back to a life he understood and felt comfortable in. He knew people in San Diego. Maybe not a ton of people, but he still had a few friends there. And it was true—there probably were more opportunities for him, jobwise. He hated to leave Jillian’s farm, though. He’d begun to have visions of what it might become—like one of the hottest, most productive organic farms in northern California. Just listening to her talk about it day in, day out, he thought that a couple of years from now it would be incredible. Fantastic. He was sorry he’d miss it.

He trundled along down highway 36 toward 101, which would take him south. He’d drive as far as possible today, maybe all the way. He turned up the volume on the iPod and let rock music fill the cab of his truck, but the next thing he knew there were headlights from the rear blinding him, a truck horn blasting and some lunatic following too close. “Jesus,” he muttered, looking for a wide space in the road to get to one side so this idiot could pass him.

That happened pretty quick and Denny pulled over on a widened shoulder and the truck behind him shot past. But he stopped ahead of Denny and backed up, blocking him in. Mystery over, it was Jack’s truck. And Jack jumped out and stomped back to Denny’s truck.

“Oh, brother,” Denny muttered.

Jack stood in the middle of the road. He stared at Denny, hands on his hips. And Denny thought, Might as well get this over with. He got out of his truck. “I explained the best I could,” Denny said.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Jack said. “Heard there was a letter. I haven’t seen it.”

“Then why are you chasing me down?”

Jack took a step toward him. “Because I want you to look me in the eye and tell me where I went wrong with you.”

“Huh?” Denny said, confused.

“Six months before you laid that father business on me, I was your friend. I kind of saw myself as a mentor, at least until you covered me with your body to keep me from being killed by falling liquor bottles during an earth-quake—that made me wonder who was mentoring who. I don’t remember ever putting any stipulations on the friendship, either. Far as I knew, we thought a lot alike, acted a lot alike. I thought it was the Corps. Then I thought it was just one of those things. Then I thought I was probably your father and that would explain it. Whatever it was, it was working just fine. Just a couple of guys. To tell the truth, I thought you had a similar connection with Preacher, with Jill, with Mel.”

“Look, Jack, it wasn’t your fault, okay?”

“I know it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Denny. It just worked out the details were not the same as we thought.”

“It was someone’s fault, just not ours! My mom! Maybe she had all the right reasons and maybe it was because she was sick, maybe it was because she was worried about me, maybe it was—”

“Maybe it was because we were close, me and your mom,” Jack interrupted. “Maybe she hoped I’d look out for you, if the worst happened. She wasn’t my girlfriend—I wasn’t her boyfriend. We weren’t lovers. We were better than the kind of lovers I had back then, when I was twenty and really couldn’t think like a man. We were good friends. I thought I told you—I knew you were there! Inside her! I said I’d do anything to help her get out of that bad situation! I’d give her money, get her a safe place to live, and because I was twenty and big and built and ready, I would’a been so happy to go over to her place and beat the living shit outta that guy who wasn’t good to her, but—” He stopped suddenly. “That wasn’t the kind of thing I’d offer to do for a stranger, for someone who meant nothing to me. Just look me in the eye and tell my why that isn’t enough for you. Why you’d take off in the dark of night.”

“I came up here to find my father,” Denny said. “I thought you were my father. I didn’t mean to mislead you, Jack. I was so sure….”

“So? What’s that got to do with anything? So there were a few details to sort out. Not your fault you didn’t have all the information.”

“Yeah, but I was looking for a place to belong,” he said. “I was looking for a connection. Everything back home seemed like it faded away. After my mom was gone, after breaking up with my girl so she wouldn’t worry about me in Afghanistan, after a lot of my friends moved on… With a father somewhere, there was a connection somewhere.” He shook his head. “I don’t really belong here, Jack. Any more than I belong anywhere.”

Jack frowned. “You feeling sorry for yourself?” he asked.

“What if I am?” Denny answered defensively.

Jack laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I thought I knew you better than that.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I guess I could adopt you. It’d be awkward, you being well over twenty-one, but if you need some kind of legal—”

“Shit,” Denny said, “don’t you get it? I was looking for the real thing, not some pity thing!”

“Then grow up!” Jack stormed. “Friendship with me has always been real. No one has ever doubted my word before this! No one has ever needed a signature or a blood test or a sworn statement from me! No one has ever doubted my commitment! You’d let down a whole town just because you can’t seem to trust me to stick by you?”

“I’m not letting down a town….”

“A goodly part of one. Running out on Jillian at one of the toughest times in her life, that’s not real neighborly. We kind of got used to you coming around, hanging out with the family. My dad feels like he got himself a grown grandson—I doubt the way he feels about you is likely to change when the details come clear. Preacher—he treat you like you don’t belong? We put you on a little old lady’s couch to keep her safe at night—we don’t do that with someone we don’t have a lot of confidence in. Kind of looks like everyone but you felt you belonged.”

“It was artificial, in a way,” Denny said.

“Hey, it was from the heart, son. The best I had to offer, anyway. But if that’s not what you’re looking for, it’s all I got. You’ll do what you have to do. Maybe you can feel a stronger connection somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry if I let you down.”

“You did, son. I like the way things are between us. Liked the way it was before I thought I was your father, after I realized I wasn’t. All the same to me.”

“It’s not enough,” Denny said.

“It was enough for me.”

“I’m sorry. I was afraid of what would happen if I made a mistake. Guess this is what happens.”

Jack put out his hand. “Nothing ever changed as far as I was concerned. I wish you good luck. I’d like it if you kept in touch. That connection might take a lot longer to leave me than it does you.”

Denny took the hand. “Sure,” he said. “Of course I’ll be in touch.”

“Drive carefully.”

“Jack, there’s that letter I left, trying to explain…”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep it. But I’m not reading it.”

“Why?”

“Because we looked each other in the eyes and talked. Sometimes it’s what you feel, what you say to each other that weighs more than some sworn statement. This is more real to me. Goodbye, son. Take care.”



Jack checked in with the principle characters—Mel, Preacher, Jillian, Jo Fitch. He explained he’d caught up with Denny, tried to convince him to stay but failed. He also said Denny was doing what he wanted to do and that he was traveling safely.

Jillian delivered the sealed letter addressed to him later that morning. “Thanks,” he said. “Need help looking around for someone to work in the gardens?”

“I’ll be all right for now. I might have to hire someone in a week or two to clear another big plot so I can mulch it, get it ready for spring. I could wait till spring, but I like tenderized soil.”

“You might be able to talk one of the Bristols or Andersons into that, if that’s all you need. They’ll be plowing under some fields anyway. Let me know.”

“Thanks. Otherwise, there’s just harvesting to finish. I’ll be pulling and picking everything as the last of it continues to ripen. I can handle it. Luke’s helper, Art, might want to come over and work. He’s capable if I show him what to do. I’ll talk to Luke about that.”

“Good idea. Hear anything from Colin?”

“A couple of emails, some amazing pictures of wildlife. I’ll try to remember to forward on to your email if you write down the addy for me.”

“That’d be great.” He put the sealed envelope in his back pocket. “You doing all right?”

She smiled. “I’m a little lonelier now than I was yesterday, but I’m all right. First Colin, then Denny.” She shrugged. “Not everyone is content with the same old thing.”

“If you need me for anything, call,” Jack said. “Not a good time for you to feel overwhelmed…”

“Speaking of overwhelmed, I’m growing some of the biggest pumpkins in the county. I’m going to make up a poster for free pumpkins, decorate the house and grounds and hold a pumpkin picking party. When that comes around, I might need a little help.”

“Could be fun. We might get Preacher to load up the barbecues and make a day of it.”

“That would be awesome,” she said. “You know, I’ve had my ups and downs…more ups than downs… But this is a good place for me.”

“Yeah. I guess not for everybody, though—like Denny for example.”

“I know,” she said. “You going to be all right?”

“Yeah. I’m disappointed, but that’s the way it goes.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Hey, call if you need me. I’m a good listener.”

“Thanks,” he said. “We’ll be fine around here. Plenty to do to keep us busy.”

It being Virgin River, it didn’t take long for the word to get out regarding Denny’s clandestine departure. All day long, as people stopped in the bar for lunch or pie and coffee or a drink, they asked. “Hey, did I hear Denny took off for San Diego? He didn’t like it here?”

“San Diego is home for him, remember,” Jack said.

“I thought he was getting to think of this as home,” someone said.

“Apparently not quite,” Jack said.

“Think we’ll be hearing from him?” someone else asked.

“Of course!” Jack said, though he felt sadly doubtful. Their goodbye had felt very final.

At around two in the afternoon, when the bar was typically quiet, Mel walked across the street from the clinic to check on Jack. “Try not to be too upset with Denny, Jack. Young men are driven by all kinds of things. It probably doesn’t have anything to do with the realization that you’re not related by blood.”

“I’ve decided it’s a good thing,” Jack said. “I’ll miss the kid, no question about it, but if he’d stayed here just because he thought I was his biological father, it might not have been enough for him. You know? He should do everything he feels an itch to do and not be held in some little town by DNA.”

She leaned across the bar and kissed him. “Very wise,” she said.

But Jack wasn’t feeling wise. He felt like he was compensating. Compromising. He’d started to feel like one of the luckiest guys alive. Not only did he have a perfect little family, the best friends in the world, but he had a couple of amazing young men like Rick and Denny who looked up to him, felt that he was more than a friend, thought of him as worthy of being their father. Now they were both away doing what young men had to do to get their lives together. He wanted to just count his blessings, but he was a little disappointed. He went from slightly overwhelmed by his good fortune to a cup less than half full.

Until about four that afternoon. The door to the bar opened and who should walk in but the prodigal son. Denny wore a hangdog expression, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes downcast.

Jack quickly picked up a spotless glass and his towel, as a means of keeping his hands busy, to keep from grabbing the young man up into a fierce hug. He wasn’t sure he was able to keep the grin off his face, however. “How far did you get?” he asked Denny.

“Almost all the way to San Francisco,” he said.

“What turned you around?”

“Just some little, insignificant thing. Turns out the guy that really is my biological father not only never married my mother, never tried to support us after he left, but he also never once tried to have a relationship of any kind with me. I got in touch with him when my mom died. He said he was real sorry to hear that. That guy was my father, and he always seemed to ignore the fact. You, on the other hand, seemed real sorry to learn you weren’t my father.”

“True,” Jack said with a nod. “Once I got used to the idea, I liked it. You and Rick, a couple of guys a man would be proud to claim.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain in your ass.”

“Sons. I believe it’s one of those predictable things.”

“I do like it here,” Denny said. “I did feel like I belonged. I felt like you were at least a father figure. You didn’t have to make me feel that way, but you still did.”

“Don’t should on me, and I won’t should on you,” Jack said.

Denny laughed. “I hope you’re not too pissed.”

Jack put down the glass and rag and walked around the bar. He got real close to Denny. “I’m a little pissed, but I think I can get over it. People have been asking about you all day. They seemed disappointed that you were gone.”

“Really?”

“And Jillian needs help.”

“I’ll get right out there and try to explain.”

“And I need you, too. No particular reason.”

Denny’s eyes clouded a little. “Thanks, Jack.”

Jack grabbed a fistful of the kid’s shirt and pulled him hard against his chest, wrapping a big arm around him, hugging him closely, pounding his back. “You don’t ever have to thank me, son. You just have to be who you are. I’m good with that.”



Colin sent Jillian a picture of Mount Kilimanjaro with a note that said,

Someone else can climb her. But isn’t she spectacular? Nice pumpkins, baby. Love, Colin.



That message made her laugh so hard that Denny came to the kitchen to ask her if she was all right. She couldn’t bring herself to share his email, but not sharing made her feel guilty. Really, she still wanted the man all to herself!

Although Halloween was still a few weeks away, she had Denny begin decorating. They had filled up the back of the truck with hay bales, lanterns, spiders and witches to hang from the trees, and since Jillian hadn’t grown gourds, she bought them along with straw horns of plenty. When the holiday drew near, she’d carve her own pumpkins for the front porch. Being out here in the middle of nowhere, there would be no trick-or-treaters, but she’d be ready for the pumpkin pickers.

Nice pumpkins, baby.

She missed him, but with a kind of joy and possessiveness in her heart. She knew he thought about her. The picture of the mountain had not been sent to everyone, but just to her.

Jill liked to go up to the widow’s walk every afternoon and look at her grounds from that great height; she liked to watch Denny at work. He was staking scarecrows in the pumpkin patch. She was so glad to have him back.

She enjoyed watching the advancing color of the leaves, still just in the early stages. And then she would lie on her back on the roof, bask in the warm afternoon sun and fantasize about that first time they made love on the roof. She could remember every single touch, every kiss, every sweet word Colin spoke. She smiled to remember half their clothes disappearing off the top of the house because they’d been so lost in pleasure, in sweet satisfaction.

Sometimes she actually dozed while she thought about her gardens, her harvest, her faraway lover. Life was not as perfect as it was when Colin was here, but it was good. She wasn’t feeling sorry for herself; she wasn’t losing weight or prowling the big house in search of memories and solace late at night.

After a nice half-hour stretch in the sun, she sat up and looked down at the grounds, the garden nearly plucked naked, the lilac, rhododendron and hydrangea bare of flowers. Her six months had been well spent. She planned to experiment through the winter with smudge pots, grow lights and inside irrigation in the greenhouses to see what could be done during the off-season. She stood up and was able to see Denny driving the garden-mobile through the trees to the back meadow where two greenhouses stood. Her hands on her hips, faced toward the back of the property, she heard a piercing whistle. She turned and looked down in the opposite direction and saw a mirage…. It was a man in fatigue pants, long-sleeved green Army T-shirt, camel-colored vest and straw cowboy hat. He carried a great big duffel and a worn brown leather camera case.

“Now I’m just hallucinating,” she murmured to herself.

He dropped the duffel and camera case and waved his arms at her.

“Dear God, if I’m crazy, can I please stay crazy?” And then she scrambled, stumbling, breathing like a marathon runner, down three flights of stairs to the front of the house. She burst out the front door, crossed the porch, leaped off the porch stairs and ran like her pants were on fire across the yard and down the drive toward him. She was crying as she ran; he was laughing as he walked toward her, his arms open to catch her. She flew into his arms with such force she caused him to laugh harder and stumble backward while he grabbed her. Her arms went around his neck, her legs around his waist and she shut him up with her lips.

“God, oh God, oh God,” she said as she took possession of his mouth. His hands were running up and down her back; she grabbed his hat off his head and threw it, plunging her fingers into his hair. “You’re here,” she whispered, kissing him, wanting him, holding him so hard he might never get away.

“Yeah,” he finally said against her mouth.

“It was supposed to be six months!”

“I know,” he said. “What was I thinking, huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“By the time I could call you, I was in San Francisco. I woke up one morning in a small African village and thought, this isn’t working without Jilly. And I bought a ticket home. You have no idea what I had to go through to get here on such short notice. I’ve been on way too many props, flying over the jungle. I was in San Francisco before I could have called you.” He grinned. “Right then I decided to surprise you. See if you acted like you were happy to see me.”

She looked over his shoulder. There was no car. “But how did you get here?”

“An airport shuttle, then I hitched.”

She whacked him on the shoulder. “You should have told me you were coming! So I could have been ready! Cleaned up and pretty!”

He lifted her with hands under her butt. He shook his head. “I like you dirty,” he said, laughing. “You couldn’t get any prettier, Jilly. And I just can’t make it without you.”

“Is this just a visit? Are you leaving me again?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But never for long. And if you can find times the farm doesn’t need you, maybe you’ll come with me. I’ll paint while you grow—we’ll travel when we can. Maybe I’ll get to be a better painter and Shiloh can send me money for plane tickets.” He held her up with one hand and with the other, he smoothed her hair back away from her face. “Did you miss me?”

“A little bit,” she said with a shrug.

“You have tears running down your cheeks,” he said with a grin. “I think you missed me more than a little.”

“You never called me! You barely emailed me!”

“I was in the jungle. And I missed you so much my whole heart felt broken. I don’t ever want to miss you that much again.”

“And the flying?”

He gave a shrug. “I took a chopper up, just to see how it felt. Felt pretty good. But not as good as being with you.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Not as good as being inside you. I think it’s time I made a few minor changes.”

“Minor?”

“Might slow down, just a little…. Maybe I’ll take short trips—like a week or two. Maybe you’ll come, too, if you want to. Maybe we’ll admit this thing we have is perfect, not worth messing around with. And stay together forever. If you’re interested, that is.”

She glanced away. “I could think about that.”

He buried his face in her neck. “Think fast,” he growled. “I might peel your clothes off in the driveway!”

She leaned back and put both her palms on his cheeks, staring into his eyes with heat. “Are you done fooling around now? Are you mine now?”

“I am totally and helplessly yours. I’ll get a tattoo if you want. I’m in love with you, Jilly. Like I’ve never been in love in my whole, stupid life.”

“And you feel you have your life back?” she asked him.

“Not exactly like that,” he said. “I feel like I have a whole new life, one I didn’t even realize was waiting for me. You’re everything I need, Jilly. Without you? I can’t even think about it.”

“But what about your adventure? Do you need more adventure to feel like you’re alive?”

He kissed her, long and hard, and then in a throaty whisper he said, “You’re my adventure, Jilly. You’re what I need to feel alive.”