Robyn Carr - Wild Man Creek

Her nana had spent many a night sleeping upright. She’d fall asleep with a book in her lap and sometimes she wouldn’t even bother going up to bed. Then of course there was Jillian’s mom—there were times Nana stayed downstairs all night because she needed tending.

I should remember my early years as traumatic, difficult, Jill thought. Why don’t I? Why doesn’t Kelly?

“Jillian, look,” Paul said. He put a hand on her shoulder and pointed out the window. Right at the tree line, a doe and fawn picked their way cautiously into the yard. “Whoa, that guy’s brand-new—he can hardly stand up!”

Then a second fawn appeared, a twin, and the doe nudged him in the rear with her nose, moving him along. They stayed close to the trees.

Jillian’s chin could have hit the floor. “God,” she said in a breath. “God.”

“Probably looking for Hope’s lettuce crop,” Jack said with a laugh. “The deer used to drive her nuts.”

“She used to come in to Jack’s for her drink every night, covered in garden mud, and say she was going to start shooting ’em,” Paul added. “Jack? You think there are deer skeletons all over that back patch?”

“You know what? Now that you mention it, we never found a gun when we cleaned out Hope’s house! That old biddy was all talk!” Jack exclaimed.

Jillian whirled around and faced Jack. “Rent it to me!” she said.

“Huh?” both men replied.

“Rent it to me! The house. And yard of course.”

“Wait a minute,” Jack said. “I hadn’t even considered that …”

“Well, consider it. I mean, even if the house is paid for, there’s taxes, right? And bills—water, electric, etc. You probably don’t want to try to sell it in this bad real estate market, being all the way out here in the country and all. Until you can figure out what you want to do, rent it to me.”

“For how long?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “How about a little while, like for summer.” She shrugged. “Six months?”

“Don’t you have a job or something?” Jack asked, hands on his hips.

“Nah,” she said with a smile and shake of her head. “I’ve taken a leave of absence. I need a little downtime before I go back or change directions. And yesterday I started on the garden. It reminded me of growing up, of my great-grandmother’s garden. And it felt better than just working so hard at learning to relax a little or being confused about what I want to do next. So?”

Jack took a deep breath. “Jillian, you can have full access to the garden as much as you want. Go for it. Rent something your size and come over every day, putter to your heart’s content ….”

“But if I rent this house I can put a table or recliner here and see it in the morning. Come on. At least until you have a better idea.”

“You sure you want to make a commitment like that? Because this is a big place and it might be out of your price range.”

“Well, how much?”

Jack rolled his eyes, then met hers. “I have no idea. I haven’t even had the property appraised yet,” he said.

She laughed at him. “Why don’t you do a little research and figuring and let’s at least talk about it. We could put a plan in place—one that doesn’t leave me suddenly homeless or you unable to take a good offer on the house. Really, we can work this out easy.” She looked back out the window at the deer. “Yeah, I think this might work for me for a while.”

Jillian thought about what Harry had said to her. His suggestion that she try to learn to relax seemed enormous and vague to her, but suddenly the idea of getting closer to nature not only made sense, it held a lot of appeal. After ten years in skirts and heels, racing around the pristine offices of BSS, Jill wanted to dig in the ground, enjoy the sunshine and wildlife and beauty of this remote place. While I dig and plant and weed, I’ll think about my options. I need a lot of think time, and I have to put time between my downfall at BSS and my return. Or my new start. And for sure I need to try to understand how I could be taken by a dimwit like Kurt!

Jill wasn’t naive about everything—she knew that, despite the confidentiality agreement, word would have leaked and she would be exposed as the bad guy she wasn’t.

“I don’t know …” Jack fumbled.

“Think about it,” she urged. “Talk to some folks for advice, if you have advisors. I have very good references. I have a little money socked away. I’ll come to the bar tomorrow to see if you have more questions, more ideas. What’s a good time?”

“Afternoon. Two to three-thirty.”

She stuck out her hand, which was clean, right down to the trimmed and scrubbed nails. “I’ll be there.” She shook Paul’s hand, as well, thanked them both and nearly skipped out of the house.

Colin Riordan pulled up to his brother’s house and cabins still asking himself if this was a good decision. The past several months had been grueling and since he had to be somewhere, this place would serve his purposes for now. He’d been in treatment of one variety or another for so long he could hardly remember back when he had considered himself pretty tough and well-balanced. In fact, if his left arm and leg didn’t ache with such relentless regularity, he’d barely remember the accident.

And, yeah, the occasional nightmare would remind him. Lying in a tangled, burning heap that had once been an airborne Black Hawk, being pulled free by his boys before he burned to death. Yeah, that was the beginning of the end. He rubbed his short, trimmed beard; he could feel the scars on his right cheek. He was scarred on his cheekbone, down his neck and on his shoulder, back, upper arm and left side.

He’d traded in his sports car for a Jeep Rubicon; he got out of it, happy to stretch his legs. He wasn’t planning to stay here with Luke and Shelby. He’d come up to Virgin River with his brother Aiden about a month ago and had managed to find a two-room cabin buried deep in the forest beside a mountain creek. He made arrangements to rent the place until hunting season opened in the fall.

Luke stepped out onto his front porch, eight-month-old Brett balanced on his hip. “Hey,” he said. “How was the drive?”

Horrible, Colin thought, fighting the urge to rub his leg, his back, his arm. “Terrific. Quicker than I thought.” He couldn’t quite disguise the slight limp as he walked toward the porch and saw Luke’s eyes dart to his leg. “Just stiff, Luke,” Colin said. He went up the steps and reached for the baby. “C’mere, Bud. Did you remember that trick I taught you?”

Brett reached out for him with a wet, droolly smile. Of all the shocks Colin had shouldered in the past six months, this was one of the biggest—that he’d bond with a baby! He’d never been crazy about kids, didn’t want any, tended to give them a wide berth, but this one just got under his skin. In his eight months of life Colin had only seen little Brett maybe five times—right after he was born, once when Luke came to visit while he was in treatment in Tucson and brought the kid along and last month—that accounted for three. And yet …

The baby grabbed Colin’s nose; Colin made a noise and a face. Brett giggled wildly and did it again. And again. And again. Finally Colin said, “Just like your father—easily entertained.”

“Come on in,” Luke said.

“I’m not staying. I just wanted to swing by, say hello, let you know I’m in the area. I’m going out to the cabin.”

Luke looked annoyed. “Can’t you stay here just one night?”

“Can you give me a break? I’ve been living with people for six frickin’ months and I am sick of living with people!” Shelby stepped outside, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Hi, sweetheart,” Colin said, his mood instantly lightened. “Tell your husband I want my own place and I want to be alone for a while and I have earned it.”