Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(99)

I think of you all the time… All the time…

Because she was clearly depressed over Colin’s departure, Kelly had taken to calling her several times a day, worried about her. Jillian had never hidden herself from her sister, but she didn’t take most of those calls. She had her cell phone hooked to her belt even in the garden, even though the reception wasn’t great in the trees. If it was her sister she often let it go to voice mail while she was grooming and tending the plants. She could return those calls later, but she couldn’t bear the thought of missing a call from Colin.

Then, before Kelly had to go to work, Jillian would climb up onto the widow’s walk where the reception was superb and dial up Kelly. She had always been able to tell Kelly everything. She was painfully honest about how much she missed him, how lonely her days and nights were, how afraid she was that she’d never get to feel that kind of love and romance again. Through tears she described Colin’s two emails, how magnificent the pictures, how enthusiastic the updates. He was happy, that much was clear.

“Did you always think that at the last minute Colin would either stay or compromise in some other way?” Kelly asked.

And Jillian was again in tears. “I did,” she admitted. “Plus, since I always knew it was right to encourage him to follow his dreams, I never thought I’d go to pieces like this! Why would he want someone who couldn’t support him any better than this?”

“You’re asking a lot of yourself,” Kelly said. “Very hard to let go of a man you love. Can’t you give yourself a break?”

“I’m going to get past this,” Jill said. “You’re going to think this sounds awful, but I want a man who says, ‘If I died tomorrow in your arms, I would feel there was nothing in my life I’d missed.’ Very selfish,” she added. “I want to be his end-all, be-all. He’s my everything. I want to be his everything, too.”

“Would you give up Jilly Farms?” Kelly asked.

“See? There you have it! Maybe that’s why I’m crying! Because what I really want is that neither of us has to give up anything! And yet, feel that we have everything!”

“Don’t worry, kid. This is going to pass. It just takes time.”

“Yes,” Jill said. “Yes, time. I guess at least six months.”

Denny sat at the bar, nursing his beer.

“Dinner tonight?” Jack asked him, giving the bar a wipe.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Haven’t seen too much of you lately. Things busy at the farm?”

Denny took a swallow. “I haven’t been to the farm. Things are kinda slow and Jillian wanted some time to herself. I think Colin being gone really bites for her.”

“I imagine,” Jack said. “They looked pretty tight.”

“I don’t think that even touches it. I think he was crazy to give her up, but I have to admit, I envy him a little. At least he had a plan.”

“So,” Jack began, “where have you been, if not working?”

Denny shrugged. “Lots of fishing. Not much catching.”

“Alone?” Jack asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Denny casually lifted his beer. “I guess I needed some think time. Just like Jillian.”

“Listen, son, it hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve been giving yourself lots of think time ever since—”

“You don’t have to call me that. Son.”

Jack was struck silent for a moment. Then he frowned. “All right, Dennis,” he said. “You’ve been all upside down since our day at the river. That was weeks ago now and I figured you’d come to terms with it. I know you’re disappointed. Hell, who wouldn’t be? But it is what it is and we go on from there.”

“As far as I can tell, you haven’t told anyone the truth.”

“I told you, Denny. It doesn’t make any difference. We’re exactly the same as we were. I don’t like you any less and I assume you don’t like me any less. You said you weren’t looking for a kidney, anyway.” Then Jack tried a smile. It didn’t seem to break the ice much. “Denny,” he said, leaning close. “Family isn’t what we’re stuck with. It’s what we make it.”

“Sometimes it’s what we’re stuck with,” he argued.

“Think again, bud. When you’ve got some ass**le with your DNA, you give him a real wide berth and forget to send the Christmas card. Pretty soon he gets the message that DNA isn’t enough.”

“Maybe not, but you can’t fake DNA.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I never did score real high on reassuring angry young men. At least when Rick came home without his leg, I knew some things to do. But—”

“What did you do?” Denny asked.

“I drove him to physical therapy so I could be sure he went and I personally delivered his sorry ass to the counselor because if he wasn’t going to talk to me, he was damn sure going to talk to someone.” He lifted a brow and the corner of his mouth. “You need a ride to the shrink?”

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” he said, grimacing.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” Jack said. “But I am starting to feel a little fed up. I didn’t cut you off when it turned out we weren’t as connected as you thought. I just can’t figure out why you wouldn’t return the favor.”