Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(20)

“No, that’s not it. My mind was in the past, not the future. I was thinking about the old garden, not the new garden.”

“Time for a fence?” he asked.

“If the wildlife gets into my radishes and lettuce, no big deal. But I won’t sacrifice Purple Calabash, tomatillo or Russian Rose! Besides, there’s a couple of apple trees on the property—the deer will be fine. Well fed, in fact.”

“And the rabbits?”

“I’m afraid they’re on their own.”

“Thirty-two, huh?” he asked. “I woulda put you at about twenty-five.”

She laughed at him. “I guess that’s better than having you ‘put me’ at forty-five!”

Jack wandered over and she asked, “Can I get something to go, Jack? Anything? I have to get home.”

“House on fire, Jillian?” he asked.

“I hope not. I just got a tip about seeds from your local expert, Dan, and I want to get on the computer.”

“Let me go dish you up a little something,” he said, heading for the kitchen.

She took another sip of her wine, smiling.

“Just how long is your rental lease?” Colin asked.

She turned toward him excitedly. “Don’t you get it? If I can find the seeds and make it work, that’s all I need to know. I can do that in a few months, but I have that house and land through the summer. And you can’t imagine how happy it would make me to grow some of that rare stuff my nana used to grow.”

Colin left the second half of his beer on the bar and stood to leave. “Good luck with that,” he said, smiling at her. “Ma’am.”

Three

Jillian talked Jack out of what remained of that opened Chardonnay and took it home along with some of Preacher’s wonderful meat loaf, garlic mashed, green beans, bread, a small container of tomato gravy and a slice of chocolate cake. She ate the cake first with another glass of Chardonnay while browsing online, researching seeds and plants. Damn if Dan Brady wasn’t right! Specialty seed catalogues by the dozens! Of course she had no idea how authentic the seeds were or how the finished fruit or vegetables would taste, but this was the first step—seeds were available. And while they were slightly more expensive than ordinary garden shop seeds, they were still priced low.

That night, after talking with Dan, was the first of many such nights. Jillian, like Hope McCrea before her, lived in the kitchen with the fireplace, her computer and desk. From her recliner she could eat on a tray, surf the Net and see that vast garden through the kitchen windows.

That first night, though, she was up almost all night, researching, shopping, ordering, reading gardening blogs. She finally nodded off in the recliner at about 4:00 a.m. only to wake at around six, before the sun. Taking a closer look Jill realized there would be no sun this morning—it was drizzling. Perfect! she thought. She had important errands.

The best part about this climate was that the drizzle didn’t stop her from working in the garden, and there was seldom a heavy, driving rain. But it was so deliciously wet, it would quench the thirst of a garden so well!

Denny arrived at seven-forty-five, and she loved that he was early and ready to work. Jillian was also ready to roll. He came to the front door and she invited him in; she took him through the empty living room, dining room and into the kitchen. “Want a cup of coffee for the road?” she asked.

“Sure. Thanks. Where are we going?”

“First, to get a truck. I need a truck to carry supplies too large for my Hybrid. How do you take your coffee?”

When he didn’t answer immediately, she looked up to see him staring at her living quarters. Her quilt was draped in the recliner, there was a tray for eating there, a pillow for sleeping, a newly purchased small TV, computer, necessities. “Denny?” she said.

He looked back at her. Although he frowned in some confusion she couldn’t help but notice he was a tall, handsome youth. He had short-cropped hair, expressive brown brows over deep chocolate eyes. Eyes that were showing concern at the moment. “I hope you have a bed somewhere, Miss Matlock. That doesn’t look real comfortable.”

“Are you kidding? It’s fantastic! I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfortable. And it’s probably better for my back, neck and whatever…. Coffee?”

“Black,” he said. Then he just shook his head and she laughed.

By noon they had a truck—an ’02 Ford with a nice big bed. They had gone to the fencing company together to order chain-link fencing for her big garden. They loaded up the posts in the truck bed, but the rest of the chain link would be delivered in a couple of days. She sent Denny off in the truck to take care of renting equipment, a crew or both to take down some trees and grade a level passage to the back meadow. While they were off doing chores in separate vehicles, she went about the business of buying some garden supplies. She had found a company online that would test her soil for chemicals and bought the appropriate containers for shipping. Hopefully, there had been no pesticides in that dirt for many, many years. She needed to know the pH, which nutrients were present or missing, all the sort of thing the company promised to provide.

She visited more than one lawn and garden store and asked about pure poultry manure fertilizer for organic gardening and was rather surprised by the smiles and lifted eyebrows. “I’m growing tomatoes, not marijuana,” she informed the clerks who helped her.