Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(53)

“I know, son. I lost my mom when I was in my thirties and it was terrible, and I still had a big family around. Preacher, he lost his mom when he was a senior in high school and he had no other family. He moved in with his football coach.”

Denny chuckled. “I moved back in with the Marines,” he said.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come and find me right away,” Jack said.

“I had to think about it for a long time,” he answered. “What if I found you and you turned out to be like Bob?” He shook his head. “I had to put a plan together in my head. My mom got involved with him too fast. I wasn’t going to make that mistake.”

“You had a pretty solid plan, I’ll give you that,” Jack said. “Even if it took years.”

“I tripped and fell along the way an awful lot. All that business of losing my mom, going to Afghanistan and no father that I knew of—I did some lame-ass things. I had a girl, Becca. I didn’t want her to suffer if anything happened to me, so I just broke up with her.” He turned and looked at Jack. “Lame. I really cared about that girl.”

“You check back in with her lately?”

“When I got back, but she was still mad. She said she was with someone else. Who can blame her, huh?”

“Sometimes we just do the best we can,” Jack said. “Sometimes our best isn’t worth all that much.”

Jack had spent a lot of time thinking about things lately—like for example the fact that he couldn’t remember Susan Cutler. He couldn’t remember if she was “Susan,” “Sue” or “Susie.” That led to thoughts of how he had put together his master plan when he was all of eighteen or twenty—the only kind of plan that a sexually driven young man has. If we have an understanding, me and the woman, and if we’re careful, have protection, we’re consenting adults, he had told himself. We aren’t obligated to each other; we’re not going to be sad or hurt when we pull apart because from the start we knew it was just for now, not forever.

What a lot of happy horseshit that was.

Clearly he must have had such an arrangement with Susan Cutler and twenty-four years later the sheer idiocy of such a plan was all too apparent—he’d had a son for more than two decades and had done exactly nothing for him.

He just couldn’t figure out in his head how he could’ve worked that out differently. He’d never felt in love enough to marry and the idea of living without any sex? Sex had always worked real well for him—he found doing without hard to imagine. But at the moment, standing beside Denny, fishing with him, listening to him tell about his mom dying, breaking up with his girl, going to war, all without the support of a father…? It made Jack kind of wish he’d just taken the matter of sex into his own hand for about twenty-five years instead of always looking for a pretty girl to pass the time with.

And yet, this boy who had appeared late in his life, was a real gift. Jack liked him. They seemed to think alike about a lot of things; they laughed at the same time, scowled at the same time. He was sharp and he should probably think about college. Jack would encourage that when the time was right. So when he thought that he just should have been celibate all those years ago, he reminded himself that, had he done that, Denny would not be in his life right now.

And this young man was quality. He was respectful, cheerful, considerate…. Oh, how he wished he could remember the woman who had raised him!

“I wonder, Denny… Remember those pictures of your mom you showed me? Would you be willing to loan me one? I bet I’ll remember a lot of stuff about us eventually.”

“Sure,” he said, grinning. “I’ll dig it out for you.”

Pastor Noah Kincaid was driving out of town on a sunny Saturday afternoon when he passed Lydie Sudder’s house. Something just wasn’t right there. He’d waved at her as he’d passed by but she hadn’t waved back even though she was sitting on the porch. Noah made a wide U-turn and went back, parking in front of the little house. He saw immediately what was amiss—it was still pretty cool outside and yet she was sitting on her front porch wearing only her slip.

“Lydie?” he said, walking up to the porch.

She lifted her eyes and smiled, but there was a faraway look in them; she was dazed. Noah had spent a lot of time visiting in nursing homes and hospitals over the years and he knew Lydie was elderly, diabetic, arthritic and had a heart ailment of some kind.

“Well, my dear,” he said with a smile, lifting her arm at the elbow. “We’d better get you inside and find your robe or dress. And we’ll call Dr. Michaels to come take a look, see if your sugar is out of whack or something….”

“Hmm?” she said, smiling a bit. Though she spent almost every Sunday sitting up close to the front in his church, clearly she wasn’t sure who he was. She stood at his urging and allowed herself to be led inside.

She was so frail, he found himself thinking. He wasn’t sure of her age, just that she was white-haired, bony, elderly and felt so fragile in his grasp. He led her to the kitchen and sat her down at the table. “Just give me a second, Lydie, then I’ll find your robe and slippers.” He picked up the kitchen phone and called Cameron Michaels at home—it was Saturday and there would be no one in the clinic. He was quick and to the point. “Hi, Cam, I’m at Lydie Sudder’s house. I found her on her porch wearing only her slip and she’s out of it. She doesn’t seem to recognize me.”