Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(16)

“It wasn’t easy,” she said. “I plowed through those trees and bushes to ask you how you got here with all your stuff.” She turned up a palm; it was bleeding. “See, the last owner let the trees and shrubs between her backyard and this clearing grow in, and I wanted to get back here with gardening equipment, but I couldn’t see how…”

He looked at her palm, looked her up and down and asked, “Was it really dirty coming through there?”

“Huh? Oh!” she laughed. “I’ve been gardening. I mean, farming—you can’t call what I’ve been doing gardening. I’ve gone a little nuts. See, stuff is already coming up. I’ve looked up the planting cycle online and if I hurry I can catch up. I have to get all my seeds and starters in the ground before April, and that actually puts me a little behind. Vegetable seeds should be in the ground early March; tomatoes should be started. Except the squashes and melons—there’s time for them yet. And I’ve already had birds, deer, rabbits—”

He took a step toward her. “What are you doing about them?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I have a horn. A cow horn. It’s loud. The birds fly, the deer run. But I hate it. I don’t hate scaring off birds so much, but the doe come with their fawns and I don’t really want them to go, but if I don’t scare them off and they dig up the garden, all my work is for nothing. And the only reason to garden is to watch it grow. Deer trampling my new plants isn’t going to get me—”

“Don’t you garden to eat it or sell it?” he asked.

“Honestly, I haven’t thought that far ahead. Right now I garden to garden.”

He took a step toward her. He stuck out a hand. “Colin Riordan,” he said.

She looked down at her bleeding palm.

“Oh, damn, let me take care of that,” he said. He went to the opened hatchback of the Jeep and found a clean rag. When he got back to her, he wrapped it around her cut. Then he stuck out his hand again.

“Jillian,” she said, shaking his hand cautiously. “Are you related to Luke and Shelby?”

“You know them?”

“I stayed in one of their cabins until this place turned up and I rented it.”

“I’m Luke’s brother, also known as Uncle Colin.”

“Pleasure,” she said. “Now how did you get here?”

He turned around and she did a quick study of his back; she had another look at the big, scary gun in his waistband. She also couldn’t help but admire his broad, muscled shoulders, narrow waist and long legs.

“See that road?” he asked, pointing. “It’s a crappy road, bumpy and overgrown from lack of use, but the Rubicon can take it, no problem. And the road kept going up, past a vineyard, past a couple of farms, and I stayed on it. Up was my objective. Up was where the sun was.”

“How far did you have to stay on that road?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe as long as a half hour?”

She sighed. “Well, Uncle Colin, you can get sun a lot easier. My place on the other side of the trees is a couple of turns off 36. You can paint in my front yard or backyard. I don’t mind and you’d be a lot less trouble that way. You won’t need a gun and I won’t need to duck all the time. But I’ve been planting bulbs around the house and drive and walk, too, so try not to step on the new plants.”

“Jillian, when does all the wildlife pester the garden?” he asked.

“Dawn. In fact, right up till eight o’clock. They’re back again at dusk. They probably hang out back here. I’m sure they stay around the trees. They’re so cautious when they come out.”

“Show me your garden,” he said.

“It isn’t easy,” she said. “You might want to go down that road and around to 36 and come up the front way.”

“If you can do it, I can do it,” he said. “So? Let’s do it.”

She sighed, shrugged and turned to walk back into the trees. With the rag wrapped around her hand she carefully parted the growth. It wasn’t exactly a narrow copse, and there was no path, and because she was not totally familiar with the property she wasn’t entirely sure of the most direct route back to the house. She hadn’t been in the house long and the only part of the property she knew was what surrounded the house.

Finally they came through and arrived at the garden area. A large, rectangle portion of it was tilled, turned and planted. The place was huge. There were stakes along some rows, marking the plants. Then there was the house. Astonishing.

Colin took off his straw cowboy hat and rubbed a hand over his head. “Whoa,” he said. “Look at that house! You rent that?”

“Mainly for the kitchen window, back porch and yard. That part of the house reminds me of where I grew up.”

He took in the garden. “That’s quite a farm you got there. You been at this a long time?”

“Like I said, I was trying to catch up…”

He looked down at her. He lifted the brim of her ball cap. “How long?”

She shrugged. “Maybe ten days. Maybe a little less. A week?”

“Did you start from scratch?”

“Oh, no. I think that garden has been there for fifty years or so, but I can’t tell how much of it was used by the woman who used to live here. If she was an experienced organic gardener, she probably planted stuff in alternating sections just to regenerate the soil. I could see the established rows. I weeded, tilled, started planting seeds. I’ve planted less than a quarter, but I’m ready to plant more.”