Wild Man Creek

Four




Colin tried to limit dinner at Luke’s to once a week. He was accustomed to being on his own. It bothered him that he actually enjoyed it and it made him wonder if he was losing some of his independent edge. He was fond of Shelby; that sweet young thing was a treasure whom Luke surely couldn’t deserve. He got the biggest kick out of Brett. The baby was crawling now and trying to pull himself up on the furniture. Colin still had a problem with Luke and probably always would. Maybe because he was the oldest of the Riordian boys, Luke always took a patriarchal attitude—at least with Colin—acting as if he was the parent and this got on Colin’s last nerve.

There should be a statute of limitations on big brothering. They were only two years apart in age and Luke was not smarter or more experienced. Colin felt that after the age of thirty, brothers of all ages should become equals.

When he got to Luke’s, his brother met him on the porch. “Good, you’re here a little early. I need to talk to you. Let me get you a cola.”

“Skip it,” Colin said. “What’s on your mind?”

Luke took a deep breath. “Jack mentioned you stopped by for a beer. I asked him if he was sure that was a beer and he said he was sure.”

Colin put his hands on his hips. “So, let me guess. You informed him he shouldn’t sell me a beer?”

Luke shook his head. “No, but I’m counting on you making a decision not to order one.”

“Why don’t you just stay out of it, Luke? I’m capable of managing my own life.”

Luke shook his head. “Colin, you can’t be doing that—you know that. Alcohol is a drug!”

Colin ground his teeth. “I didn’t come here so you could micromanage me. Believe me, I learned more in treatment than you’ll ever know. I want you to let me make my own decisions. I’ll be fine.”

“Listen,” Luke said, clearly trying to be patient. “I know you’re still coping with a lot of stuff. I’m just trying to keep an eye on things so I can help and—”

“That’s what I don’t want, don’t you get that? I don’t want you keeping an eye on a lot of things!”

“Beer is not the answer!” Luke nearly shouted.

“Believe me, three beers in six months is not me looking for answers! You gotta back off before you really piss me off!” Colin shouted back.

“I know you’ve had some challenges, but—”

“Some challenges?” Colin asked hotly. “I lost my life! I lost my career, the one thing I really lived for—flying! I lost my body and, for a while, my brain! You gotta stay off what’s left of my f*cking back!”

“Yeah, I just don’t want you to lose it all again! Christ, man, you got your painting! You’re getting along!”

“You call this getting along? You think this is what I want?”

“Colin, it’ll get better, you just have to—”

“I have to try to stay steady!” Colin yelled. “You have to back off!”

And with that he turned, nearly jumped down the porch stairs, got into his Jeep and got the hell out of there before he got any hotter. Any more stupid. Luke had always gotten to him, or he’d always gotten to Luke; he wasn’t sure which. But he’d wanted to throw a punch. Nothing could be more ridiculous than that—Luke would’ve swung back, and while his body was so much better, it was not ready for a fight. Five years ago he’d have whipped Luke’s ass, but now? He was still healing; brittle and off balance. He’d probably just end up rebreaking some things.

He went home. Where he wished he did have a beer!

He was no longer hungry. He turned on his bright lighting, brought out the four-by-four canvas of the buck. He attached two photos to the top of the canvas—one of the animal he’d caught on camera at the river and a second of a nicer-looking background. He was usually able to get a little lost in the painting, but not this time. And when he heard a car or truck engine about a half hour later, he steamed up all over again. How like Luke to follow him with the fight!

But it wasn’t Luke.

“We’d better have a talk,” Shelby said from behind him. She’d let herself in.

He turned, palette and brush in hand. “I thought you were Luke.”

Shelby closed the door and walked into his brightly lit cabin. “Some advice,” she said. “If you want to keep Luke out, it would be best to try the door locks.”

He put down the palette and brush. She was such a beautiful, tiny thing in her boots and jeans, suede jacket, hair down to her butt. She was twenty-seven, but she looked even younger. “Aren’t you afraid of a typical Riordan screaming match?” he asked her.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said. “Riordan men have a lot of flaws, but they’re always civil to women. Let’s talk. This has to stop.”

“Shelby, Luke had no reason to jump on me. I wasn’t using drugs of any kind. I just had a couple of beers, a few weeks apart….”

“Not that, I don’t care about that. This is about the conflict you have with Luke and he with you. He claims not to know how it all started, but that doesn’t matter. He’s your brother. He cares about you. Somehow you and Luke have to come to terms. There’s no reason to tear up the rest of the family over whatever it is.”

“The rest of the family learned to live with it by the time we were eight and ten,” he said.

“I didn’t,” she replied. “Brett didn’t.”

He was stunned silent for a moment. Briefly ashamed. “Aw, Shelby…”

“I can understand how it gets on your nerves to feel like someone’s always watching you. If we hadn’t nearly lost you, maybe Luke would go a little lighter…”

“Doubtful,” Colin said. “He has a tendency to take charge. Taking charge is fun for him. Not so much for me.”

“He loves you. He cares.”

“He’s a control freak,” Colin said.

“Also true,” she said. “And so are you or you’d just answer his concerns without a fight every time.”

Colin was suddenly deflated and he sat down in the nearest chair, hanging his head. When he lifted it, his eyes were sad. “Please,” he said to Shelby. “Sit down for a second.”

She sat in the chair nearest him, leaning toward him, her hands on her knees.

Colin took a deep breath. “I have been alerted about problems with cross-addiction. For several months I didn’t even gargle with mouthwash that contained microscopic amounts of alcohol. I’ve never been a big drinker. Oh, there were times I could overdo it with my boys, but I wasn’t irresponsible—no DUIs in my history, no bar fights, no issues. I don’t think a beer once a week or month is going to be a problem for me. But still—there isn’t any liquor of any kind in this cabin. Go ahead,” he said. “Check.”

“I’m not going to check.”

“I never had a drug or drinking problem, but over a month of lots of Oxycontin right after the crash is a whole different animal. It’s powerful stuff and I was having a lot of pain. I think it’s possible if I’d had my medicine flipped to a nonnarcotic after a week or two I wouldn’t have faced this problem, but that’s hindsight. I have to go forward with the knowledge that I tried to buy it on the street, I was that panicked at the thought of running out. That’s addict thinking. Trust me, I’m aware.”

“Why couldn’t you just talk to Luke about it?” she asked.

“It’s complicated,” he said. “First of all, Luke never listens. He never minds his own goddamn business. He’s real judgmental, which happens when you know everything. And I have bigger problems—I’m trying like hell to get some kind of life! This isn’t what I had in mind.”

“The paintings, Colin,” she said, letting her hand wave at the room, gesturing at all the paintings nearly done, leaning against the walls or up on easels. “They’re so good. Just amazing.”

“But this is not what I planned. I like to draw, paint, build… But I love to fly! I wasn’t going to stop—I was going to fly until the FAA stopped me. I knew the Army would force me out eventually, but I planned on doing civilian rescue chopper flying or news chopper or corporate flying. But now, with a history of drug treatment and hospitalization for depression, that’s out of the picture. Even I wouldn’t hire me.”

“I’m sorry, Colin. But I think it was the right decision. Treatment.”

“No argument there. I was only on the oxy merry-go-round for a month—I was in the pen with people who’d been addicted for years. To that and to even worse stuff. Multiple stuff. Now I might be just kidding myself, and we’ll see, but those folks coming out of long-term addiction to multiple drugs probably shouldn’t risk the occasional beer. I used oxy for thirty days and don’t really know how long my addiction was and, by the grace of God, I got caught the first time I tried to buy it on the street. My chances of getting beyond that? I’d say they’re good! To tell you the truth, that’s the least of my problems—I don’t even want a painkiller. I have aches and pains, but a life I didn’t choose was left to me. And I have a big brother who can’t back off and let me figure things out.”

“The lifestyle change must be so hard for you.”

“You have no idea,” he said. “If it’s not bad enough that I’m starting over, I’m forty with a sketchy record of rehab and other stuff, and a whole crop of twenty-five-year-old hotshots ready to fill my slot. Now look, I’m not going to go off the deep end. I’m not going to complain or take drugs or drink myself into a blind stupor, but if Luke doesn’t stop riding me and taking my temperature all the time, I might just go completely crazy. Or deck him. Or move. After all—most of this is his fault.”

Shelby sat up a bit straighter. “Luke’s fault?”

“I struggled to keep up with him my whole life. I admired him so much, I watched every move he made. But I wanted to be a helicopter pilot from the first time I saw one banking across the sky. Then Luke stumbled into a chopper pilot slot in the Army and made it look fun and easy. He made it look like it was his idea. For me, it was way more than that.” He leaned toward her. “Shelby, it was the best thing I ever did in my life. It became my passion, my lover, my best friend. I know Luke hates this, but I was good. I was a natural. If Luke was good, and he was, then I was incredible. That machine was made for me. I love flying.”

“Luke said your first words when you became conscious after the wreck were that you were going to fly again.”

“I wasn’t able to pull that off,” he said.

“I’m not sure you have to give it up,” Shelby said. “Maybe for a while, while you heal body and soul, but not forever. Let’s not fall off that bridge yet.”

“Aw, skip it. There are plenty of ex-Army chopper pilots out there looking for work, Shelby. Shake a tree and ten of ’em fall out.”

“So? Then?”

“Down the road I might find a flying job of some kind that’s a little out there—something the average family man wouldn’t take. To and from oil rigs, wilderness stuff, I don’t know. That’s in the future. Right now I’m going to see how it works to paint for a while. I don’t hate it. I never hated it. My mom and all my high school teachers wanted me to go to college and study art, but art was just too tame for me. But now I’m a little slower, so… I just don’t know if it’s going to be enough. The reason I came up here instead of going to Montgomery where Sean lives or Chico where Aiden is—there’s some wildlife here. I need a little more time to get stronger. I’m working with some weights. I’m making an effort. But this isn’t permanent, me being here. This is temporary.”

“We know that.”

“I’ll visit more often than I have in the past,” he said. “That little guy, I think he needs me to offset his father….”

“Be nice now,” Shelby said with a smile. “That’s the man I love.”

“Imagine,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t know how he caught you.”

Shelby stood. “I caught him. He fought me all the way.”

Colin stood. “See? He’s an inferior being.”

“Now that I know you’re fine, even if you are missing a good dinner, I’m taking off.”

“Tell him what we talked about. Tell him I’m sorry I lost it. I don’t hate him. I just need him to give me space.”

She looked over her shoulder at Colin. “I’ll tell him what we talked about. You tell him you’re sorry and what you need. You’re grown-up men. By now you should be able to do this.”

“We can’t ever seem to get there,” Colin said.

“Try harder,” she suggested.

“Did you give Luke this lecture?” Colin asked.

“Not this one,” she said. “He didn’t get the gentle one.” And then she was out the door.



An hour later there was a knock at the cabin door and Colin swore. He yanked open the door and Luke was standing there, a brown paper bag in his hand. “I hope we’re about done with the Luke and Shelby show now,” Colin said.

Luke didn’t respond to that. He said, “Shelby’s not that much of a cook…. Don’t tell her I said that, either. But she’s got a few things she never screws up, like this meat loaf. It’s Preacher’s recipe, I think. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“I already had something to eat,” Colin lied.

“Put it in the refrigerator for tomorrow night. And I’m going to stay out of your business.”

Colin lifted a brow. “Was that an apology?”

“Nope. I don’t think I’m up to that yet because, although I take some responsibility, you are a huge pain in the ass. Here,” he said, pushing the bag toward him.

Colin took the bag. “She chewed your ass, didn’t she?”

Luke shook his head. “Worse. She cried.”

“Shelby cried?” Colin asked. “Aw, Jesus. Come in here.”

“I don’t feel like it. You didn’t make her cry. I did. And I’m not going to ever do that again. I really can’t take it when she’s unhappy. I know that makes me just a real wimp in your very manly eyes, but that woman…” He shrugged lamely. “My life was pretty much an empty barrel till she came along and slapped me into shape. So there—now you know I’m not tough….”

“What the hell did you say to make her cry?” Colin asked a bit meanly.

“It wasn’t what I said to her, you idiot. It’s what I said to you!”

Colin shook his head. “I’m a little lost here, pal.”

“Yeah, because you’re not that bright. We had yet another argument, me and you, and right after Shelby told me I was a stupid a*shole, she said if I do one more thing to alienate you or cause you to move away before you plan to, I was going to be pretty hard to forgive.”

“Then she cried?” Colin asked.

Luke shook his head. “She said she didn’t give a flying f*ck how I felt about you or how you felt about me, but she loves you. And yes, sweet little Shelby did so say flying f*ck. And she loves you and Brett loves you and she wants you in our lives and I’d better make it right with you or she was never going to forgive me.”

Colin was completely stunned for a second. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine Shelby yelling at Luke, giving him the business. It wasn’t hard to imagine her getting downright pissed because the boys were fighting again; women got sick of that fast, witness their mother. But loving him? Bringing into focus that Brett loved him? They all loved him? When he was singularly unlovable? How was that possible?

“I’m assuming she means she loves you like a brother,” Luke said. “That better be it, too, or the fighting’s just begun.”

Colin broke into a grin in spite of himself. “And then so has the crying, I guess.”

“Go ahead and joke, but she’s a good woman. Too good for me, that’s for sure. I have to really scramble to stay good enough for her, but it’s a job I’m up to. So eat the goddamn meat loaf, come to dinner next week or sooner and I’ll stay out of your business.”

“Done,” Colin said.

“Done,” Luke said, putting out a hand.

Colin shook the hand. “Thanks for the meat loaf. It’ll be great tomorrow night.”

“You’re welcome,” Luke said. He turned to go.

“Luke,” Colin called. Luke turned around. “Tell her we kissed and made up and that we won’t make her cry anymore.”

“I plan to.” And with that, he left.

Colin closed the door, but this time he locked it. He was done with this complicated family bullshit for the night. Just being part of the Riordan clan was a contact sport.

He put the bag on the table and removed the little plastic containers that were inside—meat loaf, mashed potatoes, peas, gravy. He got a plate out and dished himself a healthy portion of each item. There was more than enough for two nights. He dug in appreciatively; Luke was right about this—it was excellent. He was also right about Shelby not being a great cook, but she was good enough. And she had qualities that were way more important than being good in the kitchen.

He shoveled the food into his mouth. They loved him? He knew they accepted him; he knew Brett had kind of taken to him. He just never thought there was a possibility Shelby cared deeply enough to threaten her marriage with tears and ultimatums and fights over wanting him to be around. She must be pretty sure of Luke’s commitment to do that. Oh—it was only family love, not romantic. He’d never had a single romantic thought about her; it just didn’t compute, not with her being so wildly in love with Luke and all. And vice versa.

He’d had a girl or two wildly in love with him, as a matter of fact. But he’d never met a girl he felt the same way about. Never met a woman he felt so strongly about he’d do anything to make her happy.

Suddenly and without much warning, he felt satisfied, and not because of the meat loaf. He got all emotional inside and thought, it’s the damn wreck, the pills and flirtation with depression—he’d never been like that before. He wasn’t that easy to touch.

But he was completely and deeply touched. Maybe in all those years that the helicopter was his lover there had been a hole inside that needed to be filled by actual human beings. People who would take a risk, a chance, a bet that he would come through, that he was worth it.

Yup, he definitely felt a gap he couldn’t fill with adventure or challenge or pure recklessness. He could feel it; there was a yearning.

A tear ran down his cheek, and he didn’t brush it away. And he wasn’t sure why not.



It wasn’t spoken of again. Colin had dinner with Luke and his family a few days later. He rolled around on the floor with Brett, though he still couldn’t lift the hefty baby boy over his head with his left arm. He looked at Luke’s plans for a small, four-port RV hookup station behind the house and cabins. He’d hired an electrician and plumber; there would be some digging for waste disposal, a separate waterline for potable water hookup, a new electrical unit installed, some concrete poured and a little landscaping to finish it off. Each hookup port would have a small patio surrounded by shrubs and flowers and a community path to the river. Ultimately, in addition to his cabins, Luke would have hookup facilities for those who vacationed in motor coaches, including his mother and George.

Colin considered it a successful evening—no arguing with Luke—and he was ready to say good-night. He thanked Shelby for a fantastic dinner with a sweet kiss on her cheek.

A few days later Colin went into Jack’s Bar and discovered Luke taking a beer break at the same time. It was fated. They didn’t sit together but were at right angles to one another up at the bar. Colin thought about ordering a cola, but he was ready for his weekly beer and he was damn well having it.

Luke raised his own brew in a toast and burning there in Luke’s eyes were the questions—how many? How long? Should we talk about this? Are we in a crisis? But to his credit, Luke said nothing. Colin knew that took a lot of willpower. When Luke stood to leave Colin waved him over, threw him a bone for the sake of peace. “I’m only having one beer and I’m staying for dinner, but tell Shelby we talked and we’re good.”

“I’ll do that.”



The day after dawned bright; the sun was coming up earlier as spring marched across the land. Colin went out looking for wildlife and late in the morning he drove to the Victorian house the old way, past the farms and vineyards, up the side of the mountain, until he got to that back pasture he’d discovered a couple of weeks ago. But it had changed—the road, nothing more than graded dirt was now covered in fine gravel. Passing through the trees Colin saw there was a small greenhouse erected, with the frame up for a second. The Plexiglas panels were lying on the ground beside it.

Jillian was amazing, all that she dared to do on a whim. He didn’t see her anywhere, but he was curious about what she might have inside that greenhouse. The door was standing open and he looked inside. She was laying there, on the ground, flat on her back, looking up. Her hands were crossed over her stomach and her eyes were open.

He went in and stood over her. “Do you feel as ridiculous as you look?” he asked her.

She didn’t even glance at him. “I want to see and feel what the seedlings will see and feel. My nana used to taste the soil.”

“But you wouldn’t go that far,” he said.

She sat up and smiled at him, teasing him. “It tastes just fine,” she said.

He crouched to get eye level with her. “You didn’t really put dirt in your mouth. You’re just leading me on.”

“Think what you like,” she said. “Why are you here? Looking for deer?”

“I wanted to see what you’d accomplished. You’ve been a busy little girl.” He stood up and looked down at her. “Why is the other greenhouse only framed?”

She put out a hand for a lift up off the ground. “Denny, my associate, had a job interview and we couldn’t get it finished yet. Those were our terms, remember—he’s hunting for more permanent work and I knew that going in.” She brushed off the butt of her jeans with her hands. “I hope he doesn’t take it—he’s working out real well for me. On the other hand, if he stays on much longer I’m going to have to make adjustments, pay social security, provide some benefits, maybe bribe him with better pay and then find things for him to do.”

“I’m pretty impressed by the way you’re just going for it. You got this idea, and that’s all it was. I saw it happen— I was there. When Dan told you how to find your special seeds and how they grow pot around here, I saw your eyes light up and next thing I know, the property is full of equipment and you are just taking off! That’s incredible. Brave and impressive. You’re a gutsy little broad. I admire that in a woman.”

She felt her whole body get warm; she looked at him in a whole new way. Jillian was a sucker for a man who admired her. She already found him attractive, but that was easy since he truly was. Suddenly he was also desirable. After having so many people, including the sister she admired so much, think she was out of her mind to go this far, Colin said he was impressed. She saw him through new eyes. She wanted to run her fingers through his neatly trimmed beard and the curly hair pulled into a short ponytail. She noted some subtle scarring on the right side of his neck that disappeared into his shirt collar, but it didn’t strike her as unsightly. His brown eyes were kind of sultry and sexy; his arms looked so strong and capable, his hands so big. And, he either had a sock in his drawers or possessed an admirable package. She jerked her eyes back to his face only to find him grinning.

“Why, thank you,” he said, acknowledging that he’d caught her. “But why don’t you let me take you out to lunch first.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “First?” Best to just play dumb.

“Before a lot of dirty, mindless sex.”

“All right, I’m just going to have to ask you to leave now.”

“Aw, get over it. How about I take you somewhere for food, no obligation. I’m hungry and it’s lunchtime.”

She sighed. “I’m a mess. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Jill, even when you’re a mess, you’re just pretty as hell.”

“Hmm. Pretty as hell,” she mimicked. “I bet the women just faint when you say that.”

He laughed at her and she noticed the most beautiful white, straight teeth.

“I thawed some stuff for lunch,” she said. “If you can behave yourself, you can have Denny’s half since he’s a no-show.”

“And then—”

“Don’t push it.” She started walking, headed for the new road that would lead her to the house.

“Let’s ride,” he said. He couldn’t help laughing at her. “Then I can park the Jeep by the back porch.”

She stopped walking and shot him a damning look. “I’m crazy to even let you near my back porch,” she told him.

He went around to the driver’s side. “I figured you for a better sense of humor. Come on, lighten up. Get in.”

There was probably good reason she was a little squeamish when teased like that, given her sexual harassment experience. But she reminded herself that Colin couldn’t sue her and she couldn’t sue him, so why was she getting all excited….

And excited was what she was getting, though she tried hard to pretend otherwise, and to keep her eyes off his body. He was a big, beautiful man and when he grinned and played and teased, she felt a little weak in the knees. She felt like a girl, and it wasn’t a bad feeling.

She got in the Jeep and said, “I could teach you gardening….”

“And I could teach you painting, but at the end of the day I wouldn’t be a gardener and you wouldn’t be a painter.”

“I think you’re right about that.” She relented. “I really wish I could do what you do, however. That eagle was brilliant.”

He cast her a glance as he drove through the trees. “Really? Then maybe if you’re very good I’ll show you the bear, fox, mountain lion and deer. And also the ones I made up without photo models.” He pulled right up alongside the house and threw the Jeep into Park.

She got out and on her way up the porch steps she said, “Why do I have to earn it by being good? Don’t you feel like bragging?”

“It’s better when you beg,” he said, his voice low. “It’s always better when you beg.”

She knew there was some kind of sexual innuendo in that, but she didn’t let him see that she noticed it. She went across the porch and into the kitchen, washed her hands and headed to the refrigerator. She started pulling things out—a plate of Italian sausages, a plastic bowl of onions and peppers, a bag of sandwich rolls. “Sausage and peppers?” she asked.

“No kidding? That sounds great. And lookie here,” he said, sitting on a stool at her work island. “Furniture!”

She popped the peppers and sausages into the microwave. “I didn’t want to go overboard,” she said, smiling in spite of herself.

“You’re safe,” he laughed. “No one will accuse you of overdecorating.” He watched her get out plates, slice the rolls the long way, get the warmed sausage and peppers out of the microwave, nuke the sliced rolls and build them sandwiches. His was much larger and meatier than hers. She put a couple of canned colas on the work island and claimed a stool across from him. “What will we do if Denny shows up for lunch?” he asked.

“Not to worry,” she said. “There’s baloney and cheese.” Then she bit into her sandwich.

“So, what gives a young girl like you the ambition to go after something like this?” he asked. “On such a large scale?”

She chewed and swallowed. “First of all, I’m not a young girl anymore. Thirty-two is a very respectable age and not so much younger than you.”

“Ah, I get it. You’re offended by being called a girl?” he asked.

“Not really, as long as you stipulate my being an adult.”

“You’re definitely an adult,” he admitted with a laugh. “Your ambition? The confidence that goes with it?”

“Originally? Probably from my great-grandmother. Nana.” She put down her sandwich. “Nana had one daughter, an only child. My great-grandfather was an older man when they married and died before that daughter was grown. That daughter, my grandmother, had a son out of wedlock, which in the fifties was still a big scandal, a huge embarrassment.” She took another bite, put down her sandwich and chewed. “So,” she said, wiping her mouth. “My grandmother was very young and she left the little baby boy with Nana so she could chase after the man, the baby’s father. Nana said she chased him and never returned. Maybe something happened to her, or maybe she just ran off for good. So my nana raised her grandson alone, and then, like the poor woman was born under an unlucky star, there was an accident that left our father dead and our mother an invalid and Nana took us all in—my crippled mother and me and Kelly, aged five and six. She was already an old woman then,” Jillian said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how she managed. But she was amazing. No matter how tough things got, she was totally positive. And brave? Oh my God, she was so fearless! She might’ve been the smartest woman I’ve ever known but she didn’t consider herself smart. She didn’t have much formal education but she spoke five languages! And she sure as hell had no money, so she pushed us real hard to study and get scholarships and make something of ourselves.” She took another bite, chewed slowly, swallowed and said, “Which we did.”

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.