Wild Man Creek (27 page)

“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 fucking drink in my fucking bar?” he muttered, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “No fucking 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 asshole 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.”

L
uke 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,

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.”