Wild Man Creek (24 page)

And then the couple he’d been watching for. Darla and Phil Prentiss came walking from down the street; Phil was carrying their little son, Jake. Jack’s glance shot to his wife and watched as Mel slowly rose from a picnic table and moved toward them. Her back had been to the road and it was as if some kind of maternal radar had tipped her. She was smiling as her arms reached out for Darla
and after the women hugged, Mel automatically reached for that baby.

Mel was smiling, laughing, cuddling the baby. He let out his breath in a long, even sigh. This was the way she acted with every baby. She loved babies.

Almost a year ago Mel had it in her head she needed another baby. It was quite a trial for them, a real strain on their marriage. First she wanted one of their own with a surrogate, then she met a young couple looking for adoptive parents for their baby and Mel was all over that. It took her a while to get things into perspective—they had a good marriage and a couple of kids. And her good friends, Darla and Phil, had been trying to adopt and here was this very special young couple, Marley and Jake, needing parents for the baby that was coming while they were unmarried, too broke and too young.

Mel had seen the new baby before today, but Jack had to admit he held his breath each time Mel came in contact with the baby she more or less passed over to Darla and Phil. He hoped they’d survived that passage and Mel was now content with life as it was for them. He thought so, but he’d learned not to take things like women’s emotions or whims for granted.

He reached into one of the big buckets, fished out a beer, held it up and gestured toward Phil. Phil spotted him, smiled, gave his wife a kiss on the cheek and headed toward Jack. Phil took the beer with one hand, reached out to shake Jack’s with the other. “Gotta love a mind reader,” Phil said.

“I’m a bartender,” Jack answered. “I figure you either need to drink or talk. So, how’s parenthood treating you these days?”

“Well, let’s see. Jake wakes up about five times a night and neither one of us has it in us to let him cry himself to
sleep. I guess that means it’s going pretty well. For him, anyway.” He took a slug of beer. “Let me ask you something, you being an experienced father. Is this going to pass before he goes off to college?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Now that both my kids are out of cribs and in their big beds, they don’t cry so much, but they wander into our room and sneak in with us. Sometimes Emma has a nighttime accident…almost always on my side.”

Phil laughed loudly at that.

“Something I’ve been wondering, Phil. That young couple, Jake’s biological parents, do you know if they’re doing all right?”

“We haven’t heard from them in a few months. They’re in Oregon working and going to school as far as I know, unless they’re back in California for the summer. I’ll tell you this—it was real hard for them to go after the baby was born, until I said something like, ‘I reckon there’s no law that says the boy has to be eighteen before he knows about his biological parents. It should be whenever he asks, provided he’s old enough to understand the answer.’ That seemed to ease things up for ’em.”

Jack pondered this for a moment. “That was a generous thing to say,” he said. “And naming the kid after his biological father—that had to have made the boy proud.”

“We liked the name. And it was Darla who said it might help the young father trust us a little more. Trust that we’d keep our word and be sure they’re informed about their child.”

“I’m glad this worked out, Phil. I hate to think I’m going through the rigors of fatherhood alone.” He grinned. “Misery loves company.”

“Well, get this—we still have our application for adoption out there. I don’t know if it’ll bring anything—these
things tend to happen if they’re supposed to. But if we get another one or two, we won’t complain.”

“Good for you, man. I hope you get a bunch of ’em.”

“Thanks.” Then he shook his head sentimentally. “That Darla—she’s so fantastic with little Jake. Any kid who gets her for a mom has it made. Darla always says the best thing you can give a child you love is happy memories and a foundation they can be proud of.”

Something like a bugle started to sound inside Jack’s brain. He barely heard as Phil continued to brag about his wife.

“We were young when we got married—God must’ve given her to me because I guarantee you I wasn’t smart enough to know what I was doing.”

“Right,” Jack said absently. “I mean, you’re still not all that smart,” he added with a smile. Then he dug into that big can and pulled out his own beer.
Suddenly he remembered her. He remembered Susan. Like it was yesterday.

Colin Riordan was standing around with his brothers Aiden and Luke in a little group that included Brett on his father’s hip, talking about the fact that Maureen and George had taken the motor coach north to Vancouver, looking for some cooler temperatures in July.

“So—Erin wants you all to come out to the cabin for dinner tomorrow if you can get away—we’ll grill some salmon. We’re staying until next Sunday. Marcie and Ian might come up for a long weekend—it’s still up in the air for them. And Erin wants to see this big house of Jillian’s.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Colin said. “Her gardens are flush right now. Some of the early stuff is in and
I swear, it ripens as you watch. Maybe you can talk her out of some vegetables.”

“You still have your cabin?” Aiden asked.

“Sure,” he said. “I’m mostly at Jillian’s, though. Two reasons—she has a dynamite sunroom on the second floor—a great place to paint. And she’s busy with the farm all day long, especially now that they’re watching every plant to see if it’s ready. Well,” he added, “three reasons—that’s where Jill is.” Then he smiled. “Oh, by the way, Luke, I already mentioned this to Aiden but haven’t told you yet—in a couple of months I’m taking off for Africa.”

Luke actually spewed a mouthful of beer and started choking. “Africa?” he finally got out when he recovered.

“Yep. I’m all booked on a couple of safaris in the Serengeti—mainly to photograph big game for models. But I’m also going to check out some of their air cargo and touring companies.” He shrugged. “I might get in some flying time over there.”

“Jesus, how long are you staying?”

“About six months.”

“And then?”

“Depends. If I have a flying job I like, it could be longer. Or I could go somewhere else. I’m going to have to get something on the résumé that looks a little better than rehab if I ever want to work in this country. I’m thinking they don’t look too closely when hiring bush pilots.”

“Man, aren’t you just full of surprises,” Luke said.

“And that gallery owner I told you about? The one I left my paintings with? I gave him your address. I don’t expect a check, but hey. You never know. When I figure out where I’m going to be, I’ll get you an address.”

“You’re not coming
back?
” Luke asked, astonished.

“I’m sure I’ll visit. But I’m not planning to live around here. You knew that.”

“Yeah, but does Jillian know that?”

“Sure. She understands. I need to fly. I need to do things like go to Africa. I’m not ready to retire.”

“You sure she understands?” Luke asked. “You two look pretty tight.”

“I’m crazy about her, but… Look, I didn’t say anything about Africa because even though I had the ticket I was still limping and I know you, Luke. You were going to give me a lot of shit about it, about not being ready. I’m ready. And I really need a little action.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“More or less,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been getting my shots. For travel, you know.”

Luke looked at Aiden. “And you knew about this?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” he said without answering the question. “Colin wants to see if there’s something left from before that accident—something he can still recover. Flying for one thing. Not just flying, but exciting flying. I feel better about Africa than Afghanistan when you get down to it.”

“And everyone knew but me?” Luke asked.

Colin smiled at his brother. “Only you and Aiden know. I should call Mom, Paddy and Sean. But there’s plenty of time—I leave September first.”

“Aw, Colin, you can’t really be leaving Jillian,” Luke said. “Listen, that might be your biggest mistake right there. You’re a whole new man since you found her.”

“We’ll be in touch,” he said. “In fact, she even got me the newest iPhone just in case I have trouble with email in some places. She wants to see whatever pictures I get. And I haven’t figured it out yet, but I think there’s a live video feed between cell phones. And the travel agent I used said
they have disposable international cell phones—like we used in Iraq and Afghanistan. Who knows—maybe she’ll visit me, I’ll visit her. But I agree with you—she’s good people.” He turned to look at Aiden. “When do you want to bring Erin over to see the house and gardens?”

“In a couple of days. After we have dinner at the cabin?”

“Great. I’ll see what I can do to pilfer some of her homegrown stuff to add to the dinner. She’s starting to pull salad out of the ground most nights. I’ll go tell her.”

When Colin walked over to where the women sat on a blanket and talked, Luke turned to Aiden and said. “Big mistake. Big.”

Aiden just smiled. “Me knowing that and you knowing that doesn’t mean a thing. The person who’s going to have to find that out is Colin. And trust me, there’s no telling him.”

“I’m going to have a talk with him,” Luke said.

“Ah, listen, Luke. Let it be. It’s not going to matter. Especially coming from you.”

“The hell!”

Aiden lifted one dark, expressive brow. “You’re the guy who almost let Shelby get away. Don’t act like you know what you’re doing now. If she hadn’t come back from Hawaii and wrestled you to the ground, you’d probably still be one sick, messed-up, half-suicidal son of a bitch. I’m saying let him do what he’s going to do. If you’re going to be there for anyone, consider being there for Jillian. If she cares about him half as much as it appears she does, his leaving isn’t going to feel too good.”

I
t was very rare for Jack to have any kind of issue and not seek the counsel of Melinda, but on this occasion he was going to forge ahead on his own. He made plans to go fishing with Denny on Saturday. “Not so much biting out there yet,” he told the young man, “but the weather’s been perfect and you never know, one of the big ones might be lurking, waiting for some die-hard like me.”

Between the Fourth of July picnic and the following Saturday Jack did a lot of thinking, a lot of remembering. He thought he might’ve been a little preoccupied, a little on the quiet side, but no one seemed to notice. He thought he’d make good use of the week trying to mentally put all the pieces together, but in point of fact the pieces fell into place immediately when Phil Prentiss had said,
Give the kid a foundation he can be proud of….

Susan Cutler had said almost the same thing. She’d said,
I wish it had been you, Jack, because you’re a man a little girl or little boy could be proud of….

There were some major reasons he hadn’t been able to place her. First of all she’d been about thirty in the picture Denny gave him, the one of them together when Denny was a little tyke about six or eight years old, and she’d
been brunette. The Susan he’d known had been blond. Another reason—he’d been concentrating so hard on a woman he’d been sexually involved with and he really, arrogantly, thought he remembered them all. At least any that had become serious on the woman’s part. It wouldn’t have completely shocked him to learn there was one he was so briefly involved with that she’d slipped his mind, but he thought that any woman who felt that strongly toward him would have left an imprint on his mind. And yet another reason—he hadn’t really known Susan’s last name. He might’ve heard it once, twice at the most. And did he like her? Oh, he thought she was great! But he had never dated her. She had a guy in her life. A guy who was making her life miserable.

Jack and Denny staked out a little piece of river on Saturday and began casting. Fly-fishing was a quiet sport for the most part and Jack waited a long time to begin talking.

“This place has a reputation for father-son talks,” he said. “Rick wasn’t really my son, but I thought of him like you would a son. He counted on me like a kid would a father, that’s for sure. This was the place I brought him when he was sixteen to tell him not to mess with his fourteen-year-old girlfriend. He promised me he wouldn’t, but I gave him some condoms anyway.”

“How’d that work out for him?” Denny asked.

“He got her pregnant.” Denny just whistled. “Then I brought him here to counsel him about not giving in to panic. I told him to come to me with his issues, that I could probably help him somehow, but that he shouldn’t be crazy enough to try to marry some young girl just because she was pregnant, only making one problem into several problems. By that time they were fifteen and seventeen, so…” Jack paused. “So, they ran away to get married.”

“I know Rick’s married, but I guess I didn’t realize he’d been married as a teenager.”

“He wasn’t. I caught up with them, stopped them. He married Liz, the same girl, last fall. That baby from their teenage years, that baby was stillborn. It was horrible for them. They stayed together—all through his Marine career, all through his war injuries and disabilities. They’ve had a rough road, but they love each other a lot. Needless to say, I don’t have a real good track record with the advice I give out on this river….”

“You oughta give yourself an A for effort, Jack. Sounds like you tried to do all the right things.”

“You know, probably the only reason I really thought of Rick like a son was because of his young age when I found him. Just a kid, not even close to grown-up. With you, it’s different—you’re a man. Even without that letter your mom left, even if that hadn’t become a consideration, we were bound to be friends. We think a lot alike. And it goes without saying—I’m proud of you, Denny. Proud of your actions, your behavior. Proud of your ethics. We were gonna be friends who just keep getting to be better friends. You’ve been there for me and my family in an outstanding way. Not only am I attached to you by now, Mel and the kids are, too.”

Denny performed a beautiful cast and said, “I told you, Jack—if you can’t think of me as your son, I get that. I mean, you don’t remember my mom, which isn’t your fault. And even without that, I like you and the family.”

“Denny, I remember your mother. It came to me all of a sudden at the picnic this week and I remember her very, very well. And… Denny, I’m not your biological father.”

When Denny turned to look at Jack, Jack met his eyes. Clearly Denny was shocked speechless.

“Here’s how it was, son. Your mom cut my hair every single week—she worked in the barbershop at the PX. I was a dedicated young Marine and I never let much hair cover my head. It wasn’t a quick friendship, but I liked her right away—she was awesome. She looked a little different back when I knew her—different than the picture you showed me. Her hair wasn’t brunette like in the picture. But now I know exactly why you turned out so great— Susan was the best. She was positive, friendly, happy all the time. I never let anyone touch my head but her. Not only did she do a real good job, I liked talking to her. We talked about our families, our ambitions. I was determined to make a name for myself in the Corps. She wanted to settle down, have a family. Then one day she wasn’t so happy and I took her out for some coffee, let her talk and found out she was in a bad relationship.

“We got to be real good friends, Denny. I was willing to do just about anything to help her get out of that bad situation—anything but marry her. I knew you were on the way and she was definitely worthy of a good solution, but I had my family—my parents and sisters—to consider. I couldn’t marry her just to help her out. My family would have higher expectations of me. They’d expect me to be a dedicated husband and father and I wasn’t ready. I didn’t love her that way. I would have ended up disappointing her, you and my whole family. But I laid it all on the line—I offered to help her financially, to help her get that guy out of her life for her, anything that would work. And then I got my orders. She slapped on a cheerful face, told me everything was going to be fine, her parents were on her side and she had all the help she needed. She also said she wished she’d have met me first—that I was the kind of man her child would be proud to have as a father.” Jack took a breath. “I had no idea what that might mean in
the end. And now I understand why she did what she did. And I understand why you turned out to be a fine young man.”

Denny was quiet for a long time. Finally he let out a breath with the word, “God.”

Jack gave him some time to absorb all that. He fished awhile, grateful nothing bit; he didn’t want to be distracted. When Denny didn’t speak, Jack said, “I don’t see that it changes anything.”

“It changes everything,” Denny said at once.

“No, Denny, it just alters a few biological facts, but the important things are the same.”

“My mother lied to me,” he said. “My mother
never
lied. And she implicated you when you had nothing to do with me.”

“She reinvented your past. I know she had a reason. Probably a good one. And from what you told me, she didn’t expect you to hunt me down. She just wanted to give you some comfort. I’m good with that.”

“Because you don’t know the guy, Jack. If he’s my true father, I have issues to worry about.”

“Why? Because he wasn’t a good guy? What’s that have to do with you? You’re a good guy. And I have witnesses.”

“She made you a part of her drama and—”

“Stop right there. The Susan I knew didn’t have drama, she had survival instincts.”

“For all the good that did her,” Denny said with a bitter tone.

“I don’t think there’s a lot we can do about serious illness, son.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” he said, anger at the edges of his voice.

“Okay, listen up, kid. Last year Mel had it in her head
we had to adopt a child. She just wasn’t done having children, but she’d had a hysterectomy so her body was done. When you came along she reminded me that we were ready to take on a child with different biological parents and she never doubted for a second that we’d accept that child as our own. She thought we—you and me—should do the blood work, if for no other reason than to know who was a potential candidate if anyone in the family ever needed help, like a bone marrow transplant. But she reminded me that the outcome of the blood work didn’t really matter in relationships. Relationships are connections you make. What that means, Denny, is you don’t have a connection with the man you always knew as your father because he was indifferent and cruel. You don’t owe him anything, either—let him go. You’re free to create your own family. Think about that.”

“Let me tell you what’s different, Jack. I came here to find you, thinking you were my father, thinking that meant I belonged here. I don’t belong here.”

“You do if you want to. I came here not knowing a soul and I dare you to argue I don’t belong here.”

“It’s different and you know it. I’m sorry. It was all a lie and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, I understand that you’re disappointed. Suck it up—we’re still good friends. You’re still important to the family, to the town, to a lot of people.”

“Yeah. Maybe, until they find out the truth.”

“I haven’t said anything to anyone about this.”

“You have to tell Mel,” Denny said.

“Of course I’ll tell Mel,” Jack replied. “But I don’t see why anything has to change between us. I don’t see why we have to alert the town. Give your mom a break here, kid. She had a dying wish. I don’t know if it was as much for you as for herself. She regretted that relationship. The
only thing about it she didn’t regret was you. She wanted you. She loved
you.
She raised you right.”

“Yeah? Maybe so. But even considering that, I don’t feel like living a lie.”

“I know you’re offended. It wasn’t what you expected,” Jack said. “How about you just remember, it doesn’t have that much to do with us. We were friends for months before you laid this on me.”

Denny reeled in his fly. “Yeah. I understand. Listen, if it’s all right with you, I think I might be done fishing for today.”

Jill and Colin attended a great salmon dinner at Erin’s cabin; Jill brought a nice assortment of salad vegetables to contribute. Of course she already knew that she got along very well with Colin’s family, so no surprise there. And she not only offered a tour of the Victorian, she threw together a light dinner and invited them all to stay, including Denny.

But the real excitement in the weeks following the Fourth of July picnic came in the form of harvesting some of her most precious fruits and vegetables. The Russian Rose was in. Not quite as large as her nana used to get, but big, dark, delicious and beautiful. There were teardrop-shaped yellow tomatoes—a bush in the garden, a hanging basket on the porch. She had baby melons, miniature eggplants, a variety of colorful peppers, red lettuce, red brussels sprouts, tiny beets smaller than cherry tomatoes. Jillian and Denny boxed up some of her best samples of most rare and beautiful fruits and vegetables and shipped them off to Kelly via overnight express; she would know if they were just the sort of thing that high-end restaurants could use. Since they were free, Jill didn’t have to worry about licensing her farm and crop.

The rare heirlooms aside, she had a delicious assortment of organic fruits and vegetables—her zucchini, yellow hook squash, cucumbers, carrots, leeks and scallions were out of this world and she made baskets of them daily to be taken to Preacher. She even shared some of her rare lot with him; she couldn’t save it or eat it all. She did photograph everything, however.

Jillian and Denny were at the outside edge of the fenced garden gathering their crop in a wheelbarrow, separating what she wanted to eat and what she wanted to send to town.

“Don’t you want to take it to him, Jillian?” Denny asked her.

She shook her head. “No, go ahead. You were as much a part of growing it as I was, and don’t you usually stop there after work anyway?”

“Sometimes,” he said with a shrug.

The way he glanced away and shrugged wasn’t the first time she noticed that he might be a little quieter than usual. In fact, he’d been less excited than she had expected. “Hey, is something wrong? I thought you were all keyed up for the harvest! And this is just the beginning.”

He just ducked his head shyly. She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him back to face her. She tilted her head and gave a sharp nod, urging him to answer.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s better than I expected. You’ve got something, Jillian. I don’t know what it is, but if you stick a seedling or starter in the ground and nurse it along, it returns the favor and gets big, beautiful and strong. I never thought I could get so jazzed about that.”

“Unless we want it small, precious and rare,” she said with a smile. “What’s up with you?”

“Aw, I don’t know…”

“Spit it out,” she demanded.

“It’s too soon to say, really.”

“Say it anyway!”

“You know I like this, right? And you know it’s been working, right? At least I think so. But Jillian, I don’t know if it’s going to work for me in the long term. I’d never run out on you during your harvest, especially your first harvest, but I think I’m going to have to get serious about finding something more permanent. And no offense, something that has more security and benefits and pays a little… Sorry, but a little better. I’ve been kicking around going home.”

“Home?”

“San Diego,” he said. “I grew up there.”

“I thought you’d decided to relocate?”

He shrugged and looked away again. “I don’t know if that’ll work.”

“But Jack’s here,” she said, because everyone knew the story about how this young man had come here to find his father.

“Nothing stopping me from visiting sometimes,” he said.

Jillian shook her head. “Something else is going on here. Something—” She stopped talking as she was distracted by the sound of a vehicle. She automatically assumed it was Colin in his Jeep, then remembered the Jeep was already here as Colin was in the sunroom painting. She squinted toward the drive that ran along the side of the house and recognized the BMW convertible. “Aw, shit,” she said. “Christ on a crutch. Son of a bitch.”