Wild Man Creek (9 page)

Colin hadn’t bitten into his sandwich for a while; he was listening raptly. His own upbringing had had its challenges—there wasn’t a lot of money, his mother’s garden was important to the subsistence of the family, they’d gone to Catholic school on partial scholarship and it had been impossible to afford to send five sons to college. But his growing up wasn’t anything like hers!

He tried not to react. He ate some of his sandwich. “Got yourself a scholarship, did you?”

“I did. Kelly was tougher—she wanted to be a chef, to study cooking. Getting financial aid for culinary institutes, especially abroad, was almost hopeless. But, we managed. So, I did pretty well and was barely out of college with a marketing degree and looking for work when I was approached by this guy who was starting a company—a software manufacturing company. He found me in the college Who’s Who—I had a good GPA. But, you could have fit what I knew about software manufacturing between the slices of this bun,” she said, holding up what was left of her sandwich. “He offered me a job. Low pay to start, insane hours, reasonable benefits, but if we could pull it off, stock and bonuses. I told him I didn’t know anything about his business and he said, ‘Research. Learn.’ And I did. He’d successfully started a few companies and before I even accepted the job, I knew everything about him I could ever know. I knew his birth weight! Harry Benedict—I love that guy. He not only gave me a chance, he taught me, let me perform, put me on the ground floor and I helped take that company to one of the most successful public offerings on record. I was with them for ten years when it was time for a change, time to move on.” She smiled at him. “I was taking a leave of absence to relax, to get a little thinking space, but I sank my hands in this dirt, remembered my nana and whoops….” She shrugged. “I’m back in the garden. And relaxation is about the last thing I want.”

“And you’re happy?” he asked.

She laughed. “I didn’t think I was
unhappy
at BSS with Harry and a growing company, but this is better, surprisingly.”

“Your great-grandmother taught you to garden?”

“Yes,” Jillian said. “The old way. Small garden. Now the internet is teaching me,” she said, swinging an arm wide to indicate her “office” of chair, computer, et cetera. “Things have obviously changed. Who taught you to paint?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “My pictures weren’t smeary like the other kids and the teachers moved me along. They took advantage of me, too—made me do all their art and posters and lettering. By the time I got to high school I was doing murals. They wanted me to study art in college, but I wanted the Army.”

“Really? What was it about the Army?” she asked him.

“Low, fast, scary, dangerous combat choppers. I wanted to fly. I thought I wanted Cobras first, but I started out in the Huey and moved into Black Hawks and found out I loved them. I did twenty in the Army. So, why aren’t you married?” he asked.

She burst out laughing. “I couldn’t get a weekend off. Harry worked me to death.”

“Seriously,” he pushed.

“Seriously! I dated sometimes.” He had an earnest look on his face. “Okay, I dated a little. I had a guy for a few months, but we broke up.”

“Why?”

“Not important. And very over.”

“But why? Was he abusive?”

“He never spoke meanly or hit me. Give it up. I’m not telling you and you’ll never figure it out.”

“He cheated?” Colin asked.

“Probably, but that isn’t what broke us up. Really, rest your brain. This one hasn’t reached the Dear Abby column.”

He studied her for a moment. “Hmm,” he said. “At
first glance you’re a muddy little girl. On closer inspection you’re a complicated woman.”

“I’m sure there was a compliment in there somewhere….”

“And beautiful,” he added with a smile, pleased to note that by her expression he had surprised her.

“Oh, you must be very lonely and hard up. My sister, Kelly, whom you’ve never met, is really the beautiful one. I get by. But she’s a knockout.”

“
She’s
a knockout?” he asked, straightening suddenly, eyes wide. “Jillian, you are hot! I mean, I’ve only seen you dressed up once, but anyone who can pull off hot without fussing around is completely hot. Besides you look like that actress, what’s her name…”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning her chin in her hand as if bored. “I remember seeing her.”

“Seriously. She got an Academy Award. Sandra Somebody. And I like that you don’t fuss much. I never liked fuss,” he lied. He’d always been overly attracted to fuss and couldn’t remember why. “Besides, you’re trying to grow stuff.” And looking so earthy, so healthy, so naturally beautiful. And
hot.
The way her firm little butt filled out those cargo pants, he wanted to drool. He thought she was wearing a tank top under a T-shirt, no bra, and her breasts were just exactly the right size. And she was delicious looking.

“It isn’t working,” she said. “I realize it’s a small town and there aren’t too many single females here, but I’m not looking for a fling. I’m very busy.”

“I’m not bullshitting you,” he insisted.

Again she burst out laughing. “Oh, Colin, you’re going to have to practice up on that lying. You’re awful at it.”

“I’m not lying,” he said, straight-faced. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

“Right,” she said, waving a hand. “Whatever. And you’re a lovely man. But I have seeds waiting.” She lifted a brow. “You about done there?”

He took the last bite of his sandwich, chewed and swallowed. “For now,” he got out in spite of his full mouth.
For now,
he thought.

D
enny peeled the cap off his head as he walked into Jack’s Bar.

“Well now,” Jack said brightly. “How goes the chasing of fame and fortune?”

“Fame?” Denny asked with a laugh. “I hope not!”

“The job search? Didn’t you have interviews today?” Without being asked, Jack served him up a beer.

“Two. Stocking and loading dock for a big grocer and some ranch work clear on the other side of the valley— Ferndale—where they have six hundred people and sixty thousand cows.”

Jack laughed. “See any potential in either one?”

“Oh, the grocer is going to make me president of the company pretty quick if I just jump on board and work my tail off for minimum.” He sipped his beer. “When have I heard that before? I’m just as glad.”

“Glad?”

Denny shrugged. “I know it’s only temporary, but I like what I’m doing for Jillian. I’m busy every minute, the pay is good and did you know she talks all the time?”

Jack laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“It’s not chatter, exactly—she talks about growing,
about the interesting varieties of fruits and vegetables you hardly ever see that her great-grandmother used to grow, that she brought from the old country. Plus I do so many different things—sometimes I chop trees or build greenhouses and sometimes I poke little tiny seeds into little cups of dirt. And then Jillian describes what will happen to those seeds, step by step, talking about the acidity of the soil, the ground temperature, the altitude, how everything plays together…and I’d kinda hate to miss it.”

“How long do you think she’ll keep you on?” Jack asked him.

“No telling,” he said with a shrug. “We’re almost caught up with work for now. But she’s got a lot of growing going on and, if I know her, she’s going to put up a couple more greenhouses. She’s talking about it. There’s room in that meadow. She’ll have to heat ’em, irrigate ’em, and once the fall and winter come…who knows what will be involved. She’s been talking about seeing some grow lights in her future.” He took another swallow of his beer. “Sounds like she might be renting awhile. You okay with that?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m not going to find a buyer next winter unless things change in this economy by a lot. And she’s keeping the place nice and paying the bills.”

“Good,” Denny said. “I’m kind of getting into this….”

“Have you told her that, son?” Jack asked.

Denny got a startled look on his face. Then he answered, simply, “No.”

“You should let her in on the secret. Tell her you’re enjoying the work. Can’t hurt. Might help.”

“Yeah… Might…” He cleared his throat. “I did get some good news today. The Sheriff’s Department will be hiring in three to six months. I have my app in at all the law enforcement and fire departments.”

“Good for you!”

“Oh, by the way, I didn’t have to go to Jillian’s at all today so I drove out to your place and did a few things around the yard—picked up the dog doo and ran the lawnmower around the grassy area. I cut under the play set, edged around the slide and legs and under the jungle gym.”

Jack whistled. “That must’ve taken forever.”

“Slow and steady,” Denny said.

Jack gave the bar a wipe. “You know you don’t have to do that, Denny. I really appreciate it, but I don’t expect it.”

“You let me stay there rent-free for two months, right up to Christmas! I’ll be a long time paying that back.”

“There’s no debt,” Jack said. “Apparently it’s the smartest thing I’ve ever done—there’s been a lot of free labor. How are things going down at the Fitch house?”

“Great. That room over the garage is perfect, all the privacy I want, no one to clock in with, nice folks. Mrs. Fitch is trying to replace all the girlie, flowery stuff in the room with manly stuff,” he said with a grin. “I told her that doesn’t matter. She must be worried about my sexual preference.”

“I think I’m worried about it,” Jack joked. “You getting out much at all?”

“I took out a girl named Mindy a few times. She’s a waitress at a restaurant up in Arcata—nice girl. We had fun, then her ex-boyfriend turned up. I should’a just killed him. I’m on the hunt again.”

“Be careful, buddy,” Jack said. Jack looked around to be sure they weren’t overheard. “And what about that other matter? The one that brought you up here? The search for your biological father?”

“Hmm,” Denny said. “I’m pretty sure I found him. I’m
just moving real slow. It shouldn’t come as any surprise—he’s married with a family. I don’t want to mess up his situation.”

“Is he a good guy? I know that was high on your list of concerns.”

“Very good guy as far as I can tell. I’ve gotten to know him some. He has no idea who I might be, so there’s no pressure there. There is one thing I hadn’t counted on—I’m kind of committed to this place now. No matter how the guy reacts to me, I feel like staying here.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, son. There’s plenty of room here for everyone. So maybe you and the old man won’t ever be best buddies, but isn’t it enough if you at least know about each other, accept each other, get along? Hell, what if you need a kidney someday?”

Denny laughed. “You sure do have a practical side, Jack. I hope he doesn’t ask me for an organ right after I break it to him.”

Jack grinned. “You never know. Maybe he’s been patiently waiting for the day! You want dinner?”

“Not tonight. I’m headed over to Fortuna to meet Mindy’s possible replacement for a fish dinner.” He lifted a brow. “My first question will be whether there’s a boyfriend in her recent past.”

“Good luck with that.”

Denny drained his beer, headed out the door and left Jack thinking,
What a good kid.
And, not for the first time, he thought how glad he was Denny happened into his bar. They’d become pretty good friends. Since his young protégé, Rick, was now married to his teenage sweetheart, Liz, and in college full-time in Oregon Jack didn’t see him too often, just when he had enough time to come back to town to check on his elderly grandmother. They emailed and talked on the phone regularly, but Jack had
been missing the presence of a good-natured young man. After having taken on so many young Marines in his career, it was natural for Jack. In fact, Denny was only a couple of years older than Rick and he reminded Jack of him in many ways.

The bar was very busy for a late-March evening; it seemed like a lot of his friends had chosen this night to have dinner together and most of the neighborhood stopped by. Jack was able to have dinner with Mel and the kids as long as he ate in short shifts between serving tables and bussing them. His brother-in-law, Mike, spent a little time behind the bar, pouring drafts and drinks; Mike was a more than adequate stand-in bartender and the cost of his labor was right—totally free. Being a small farming and ranching town that kept early hours, by eight-thirty there were only a few stragglers left and Jack helped out in the kitchen a little bit. By nine he was starting to envision his house, quiet with the kids in bed, his wife relaxed and sitting up with her laptop, writing emails or surfing the Net, researching, reading medical blogs. He loved going home to his family at night.

The door opened and Denny walked in, scrubbing that ball cap off his head. “Oh-oh,” Jack said. “Does this mean Mindy’s potential replacement didn’t answer the question right? The recent-boyfriend question?”

“Nah, that went fine. Her name is Crystal, by the way.” He shrugged. “Nice enough girl. No bells went off, though.”

“I was just about to pour that end-of-day shot,” Jack said. “Can I get you something?”

“Maybe I’ll join you,” Denny said. “I know you’re a Scotch man. Make mine Canadian, will you?”

Jack got the glasses ready. “You act like maybe the date
didn’t go so well.” He reached for a bottle and because it was Denny, made it a good Canadian.

“Date was fine. I just had something on my mind so if it wasn’t perfect, I have no one to blame but myself.”

“What’s up?” Jack asked.

Denny took a breath. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. Some of it I told you when I came up here last fall—about looking for my father. And—that my mom’s boyfriend’s name is on my birth certificate, but he took off when I was about seven or ten or something. He came and went a few times before he went for good and after that last time, I only talked to him if I made the contact. Me and my mom…we weren’t sorry to see him go. You know all that….”

“What’s wrong, son?”

Another deep breath. “My mom’s name was Susan Cutler. Ring any bells with you, Jack?”

“Did I know her?” he asked.

“For just a little while. You dated her for a couple of months back when you were at Fort Pendleton. I guess you were about twenty.”

“If I was twenty and at Fort Pendleton and dated your mother, I didn’t see much of her,” Jack said. “I imagine I’d have been in training there.”

“Sounds about right. You were just a couple of kids, younger than me.” He pulled an old and worn envelope out of the inside of his jacket pocket. “She had a hard time talking about when she was young. She always felt like she let me down. She never married, exposed me to a father figure who was a pure jackass, ended up raising me alone. She didn’t let me down—my mom was awesome. But, since she had trouble looking me in the eye and talking about it, she wrote me this letter.
Then
we talked about it. Would you read it?”

Jack lifted a brow. “You really want me to?”

“It’s not very long. Yeah, I’d like you to read it.” He put it on the bar and pushed it toward him.

Jack locked eyes with him as he pulled the envelope over. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. He opened it and read,

There was more to the letter, but Jack let his hand drop to the bar while he stared, wide-eyed and openmouthed at Denny. He looked him straight on and said, in his Jack way, “Are you
shitting
me?”

Denny paled. “No, sir. You’re the guy I came to find.”

“Are we
sure?
” he asked.

“After the letter,” Denny said, “we talked about it. She was a young girl, but girls that age think they know everything—her words, not mine. She worked at Camp Pendleton. She got that job to meet guys, she said, but ended up working there for about ten years, a civilian employee. But she said she didn’t screw around. She liked to go out, go dancing, go to movies, parties, that kind of thing. I have some pictures,” he said, going back into that pocket. “She was so pretty.” He passed the pictures across the bar.

Jack frowned. She didn’t look twenty in the pictures, but older than that. He said nothing, just waited for Denny.

“She said when she met you, she just lost it. Totally fell for you, but you had some orders pending and said you could only date if it was understood…”

Jack shook his head sadly. “That sure sounds like Jack Sheridan….” He looked at the photos. Both of them were studio portraits taken with a much younger Denny. She was an attractive brunette with a sweet smile and a handsome little son. He wanted to bang his head on the bar. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t remember her. He wanted to remember her so much he ached inside.

“She told me about your parents—your dad was some kind of stock broker or something. And your four sisters—two older, two younger and the little one still in grade school. But the part that embarrassed her and kept her from being honest with me—she started dating Bob right away after you left because she was so lonely and so heartbroken with you gone. And she realized she was pregnant and Bob couldn’t be the father by a month.” He shook his head. “She said there was no one else, Jack. And I know she was my mom, but I believe her anyway.”

“Denny, when I was twenty, I was at Pendleton for a few months. I remember dating a girl named Ginger for a while, but I was all caught up in the Corps. Ginger broke it off with me because I wouldn’t think serious.” He shrugged. “There might’ve been a couple of girls here and there, but I don’t remember any who could’ve been in love….”

“I know what being twenty in the Marines is like, Jack.”

Jack didn’t read the rest of the letter. He slid it across the bar toward Denny. “You’ve been up here for months,” Jack said.

“Yeah. It took me a while to get to know you, then I had to be sure the truth wouldn’t make your life harder, then… Then there was the time it took to get up the courage. Because once I let it out, I couldn’t take it back. You know?”