Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(68)

“I don’t think we should talk about all this here, today. It’s the day after your wedding and I’m not ready to get opinions from Sean and Luke and Paddy. Not to mention our mother.”

Aiden lifted a brow. “I’m ready,” he said.

“Can this be just between us for now? For a few more weeks anyway?”

“As long as you’re not going to tell me you are looking for work as a mercenary,” Aiden said.

“Not directly, but…” He shrugged. “Never know…”

Aiden leaned forward and put his forehead in his hand. “Aw, man…”

“That’s not my first choice. Like I said, I’m not ready to settle down, meaning I’m not ready for a quiet life. I’m not like Luke—I’m not going to be satisfied with some cabins by the river and a sweet little wife and baby. It’s not me. It’s not me yet, anyway. I like to be on the move, challenge myself, do the things not everyone can do. So I have some plans that will keep me moving, give me a chance to check out the possibilities.”

“And these plans?”

“Well, first of all, when my lease on the cabin is up at the end of summer, I’m headed for Africa. I’ve never been there. I want to see as much of it as I can, but I’m planning to do two things for sure—take pictures of wildlife in the Serengeti and check out their aviation installations, see if they need any helicopter pilots. Bush pilots.”

Aiden tilted his head with a nod. “That’s not too shocking for me to handle. Not like the boys in this family haven’t been all over the world. You’re still thinking about this?”

“Nope. I have a ticket—September 1. I’m planning to give the African continent six months—I know they have safari and hunting companies that use commercial helicopters. Since a lot of their clientele are Americans, Canadians and Europeans, an American pilot might come in handy. They even have a couple of aviation ministries that regularly look for pilots, but they pretty much stick to religious guys.”

“So,” Aiden said, “six months and you’re back state-side?”

“No telling,” Colin said, shaking his head. “If I don’t find what I’m looking for in Africa, there are lots of other places to explore, to experience, and while I’m at it, places where I can look for work. Alaska, Costa Rica, Australia and New Zealand, maybe India. I’m into the animals, Aiden, not the sunsets.”

“What about the painting?”

“The painting is good—feeds something in me, but I’m not sure what. I think eventually I’ll paint full-time, and that’s one of the reasons I want to take photographs in the Serengeti and hopefully the Amazon—the pictures could keep me busy painting for a long time. But I’m not ready to give up my lifestyle to paint every day. As long as I can travel and fly, painting is good for me. As a steady diet? Just not enough.”

The expression around Aiden’s eyes was almost sad. “I get it,” he said. “It’s how you’ve always lived—I get that. What about Jillian?”

Colin smiled sentimentally. “You just can’t imagine how incredible she is. She understands and encourages me to do this. She wants me to be sure I’ve done what I have to do to get my life back. It’ll be hard to say goodbye, but I’m going to stay in touch with her. There’s email, live video feed, international cell phones. Until we get bored with the long distance, or she meets someone who is better for her, I’m not planning on just giving her up.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe Jilly will get tired of her funky little tomatoes and decide to come with me? She’s a risk taker at heart—she’s not afraid of anything.”

Aiden was contemplative for a moment before he said, “Hmm. Sounds like a good plan.”

Colin sat straighter. “Seriously?”

Aiden just shrugged and smiled.

“No lecture about leaving a good woman just for travel and good times?”

Aiden chuckled. “Colin, if it turns out you love that woman,” he said, tilting his head toward Jillian, “you’ll learn a lot more if you actually leave her than you will if you give up your plans to stay with her. I just hope your instincts and timing are real, real good because if they’re not, the agony of the last year is going to seem like a picnic compared to trying to make a life without the other half of your heart.”

Twelve

On Monday afternoon, Paul Haggerty brought a man into Jack’s Bar. He grinned and said, “Jack, meet one of our new neighbors—Lief Holbrook.”

Jack stuck out a hand. “How do you do. Welcome. Drink?”

“You could talk me into a cold beer,” Lief said. “I’m not a neighbor yet—it’s going to take a while.”

“Jack, remember that vacation home I built for the rich couple? One of the first houses I finished up here after yours. Three thousand square feet with a view of the valley, about three miles northwest of your place.”

“I walked through that house,” Jack said. He whistled. “Some kind of vacation home. I never did meet those folks.”

Paul just laughed and explained to Lief, “Up here, when there’s a house under construction or in renovation, half the town walks through it, just to see how it’s coming along. Then most of them make sure I have their opinion.” Then to Jack, he said, “I don’t know that the owners were up here more than once after it was finished.”