They had talked for a long time before Jillian’s phone started to beep. “Colin, I’m running out of phone juice,” she said. “Are you all right to drive without me talking you home?”

He laughed a little. “You know what? I can’t remember doing this before. Talking to a woman for over an hour on the phone.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to believe that,” she said. “I know you’ve had a million women!”

“Not like you, Jilly. I was always looking for women who would take me to bed. It never occurred to me to look for a woman who would take me to heart.”

Colin had been back in Virgin River for three days when Jillian got the call from Jack.

“I hope you were serious,” he said. “There’s no counteroffer. It’s yours.”

She beamed. “Oh, I was serious,” she said. “Thank you so much, Jack. I hope you are as happy as I am.”

Fifteen

Denny Cutler had become a family man in a manner of speaking. He’d been “adopted” by the Sheridan family. He had dinner with the family at the Sheridan home about once a week. He’d play with the little kids, pushing them on their swings, chasing them around, helping them to get washed up for dinner and in their pajamas. From time to time he helped out at the bar, serving, bussing, hauling crates of glasses, cleaning out the ice chest. On weekends he would go out to the river with Jack for a little guy time. It wasn’t his first experience with an older male role model—there had been his mom’s onetime boyfriend, Dan Duke, also a very nice guy who seemed to genuinely care about Denny. Jack, however, was special to him. There was that blood bond.

While Jack was away checking on Rick and his grandmother, Denny worked double time. He stayed at the Sheridan house at night, minding the dog. Then he checked in with Jillian early in the day and got any particularly heavy work done around her gardens and greenhouses, but he was at the bar by noon so he could tend bar, serve and bus, making sure Preacher was covered. Jack had made sure supplies were in stock before he left, so in the afternoon when things were quiet at the bar, Denny took a run out to Jack’s house to let the dog out, did any chores that needed doing like hauling trash to the Dumpster in town. Then he was back at the bar before the dinner hour.

Mike Valenzuela helped him serve drinks and dinner and kept him company, but Denny was managing very well. His days were long and productive and he was proud of what he could do. In fact, when he thought back on his life, he thought maybe he’d reached a real high point. He was very attached to Jack and Mel, liked the town and the folks who dropped in, and he was into Jillian’s farm in a big way. The only things really missing for him were a place of his own that was a bit larger than the room above the Fitch’s garage. And a female; he’d like to have a serious girl in his life. Jack might’ve avoided commitment till he was forty but Denny didn’t necessarily want that life. He’d like a steady girl, plans for a family, the whole drill. There was nothing like that on the horizon, but Denny kept his eyes peeled.

Jack was back in the bar late Monday. “Well, stranger, welcome home,” Denny said. “You just get back?”

“At about five,” Jack said. “I got Mel and the kids settled and came to town to see how everyone was holding up.”

“I don’t think we’re ready for you to retire, but we got along all right,” Denny said.

“The dog’s alive and the house and yard have been kept real nice. Thanks, Denny. I really didn’t expect all that.”

Denny laughed. “You didn’t expect me to keep the dog alive?”

“I noticed you did a little trimming and cutting in the yard. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least I can do, Jack. Besides, I was glad to help out, and you know that.”

“You always do just a little more than you’re asked. You—”

“Jack, it’s the least I can do!” Denny said. “You know what I prepared myself for? For you to say, ‘Kid? I don’t want a kid, for sure not now!’ But you didn’t say that.” He smiled. “You’ve been awesome about this. And no kidding, I know I sneaked up on you with the news you’re my father.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a fact.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask—you about ready to do that blood test?” Denny asked.

Jack lifted a brow. “Want a little confirmation?”

“I’m good. But I thought it might give you some peace of mind. Since you were the one who mentioned it.”

“That came from Mel, and since it came from Mel, I’ll ask her where she thinks we should go. How’s that?”

“Anytime you want,” he said. “This life? It’s pretty close to perfect. Not much missing,” Denny said.

“What’s missing, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I could make do with a girlfriend,” he said with a handsome grin.

“You’re probably in the right place. They drop like flies around here.”

Denny laughed and said, “How’s Rick getting by?”

Jack shook his head in some bemusement. “Better than I expected. Lydie’s living with them in that little apartment and it’s working. They put her in the bedroom and Liz and Rick are on the pullout sofa. Lydie’s on some medication that’s slowing her down a little, but helping with those spells of delirium and anxiety. They have a facility lined up for her and should get her in within a couple of months—hopefully before the next semester of college starts for him. They’ve taken her to see it several times, trying to get her familiar with the place and, even though a lot of the patients are way worse off than she is, she seems to accept the idea. Lydie has always been brave about things like that. She’s always said she doesn’t want to be a burden.”

“But is she happy at all?”

“Well, there’s an upside for her. They have activities going on at the facility and not only is she closer to Rick and Liz, but once she’s a resident there, they’ll be able to visit her a lot more often than when she was in Virgin River. Lydie likes to stay busy—she likes playing cards and bingo and stuff. And Rick can swing by and spend a little time with her most days on his way home from school or work. He was going to go to school all summer, but he’s taken it off to see about Lydie. They’re doing real well with a batch of big adjustments—that’s the best anyone can ask.”

“Sounds like it’s gonna work out the best it can,” Denny said.

“Yeah. Sad time for Rick, but it’s not like it’s unexpected. With what Lydie’s gone through healthwise, we’re all real lucky she’s had what she considers to be a good, long life. That’s all anyone wants.”

Denny’s chin dropped briefly. He couldn’t help but think about his mom; she had always seemed strong and healthy, yet was taken from him way too soon. “Yeah.”

“Listen,” Jack said, pulling something out of his shirt pocket. “Here’s a little something for your work….” He slid a check, folded in half, across the bar toward Denny.

“Don’t even think about it,” Denny said with a laugh. “It’s a favor for a friend. You’d do the same for me.”

“Not exactly,” Jack said, trying to push it toward him again. “I’ll help out where I can, son, but if you get the flu or something, don’t expect to see me out at Jillian’s spreading chicken shit on her fancy plants.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that,” Denny said, pushing the check back. “Get rid of it, Jack. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“I always paid Rick….”

“I don’t work for you, Jack. I just help out sometimes. Friend to friend.”

Jack was touched and it robbed him of words for a moment, something that didn’t often happen with Jack. “You know what, kid? The day you showed up here? That was one of my luckiest days. Thanks.”

June passed in a warm rush and by the first of July, Jillian was pulling and picking some of her earliest vegetables. The Roma tomatoes were healthy, deep red and delicious. Her miniature beets were in, as were carrots, scallions, leeks and some of her small eggplant. Together with Denny, they lifted one end of the fence and rerouted the pumpkin and melon vines so they wouldn’t overtake the garden; they could grow their large fruit outside the fence. Deer and bunnies wouldn’t bother with hard-shelled fruit.

“What does a person do with this?” Denny asked her, holding up a box of eggplant.

She smiled and said, “Kelly can make you fall in love with it. When I was little, we survived off Nana’s garden and didn’t know for years how truly rare and valuable some of the things she grew were. But this, sliced and with red gravy and cheese? Heaven. If I cooked, I’d show you. But… Tell you what—let’s put together a nice big box for Preacher and see what he can do with it.”

“How’d you survive on it? The plants are only fresh in July and August—with some September crop—that’s only two or three months of the year.”

“She canned. She reused the same jars year after year and she bought new seals for just pennies, and through the winter we ate what she’d grown in the summer. She had recipes for relishes, salsa, sauces, vegetables and so on and Kelly is the proud owner of all those recipes now. My nana’s canned carrots were to die for. Pickled asparagus—the end of the earth. Onions and peppers—astonishing. That’s exactly why I’m sending some of this stuff to Kelly—she’ll know better than anyone if I’m on the right track here.”

“The Russian Rose isn’t in…”

“It’s green and it’s heavy, almost too heavy for the stalk, as is the Purple Calabash. Give ’em three more weeks and I bet we hit the jackpot.”

“But, Jillian,” Denny said, “I don’t think we’re making it with the asparagus….”

She laughed. “It takes a good three years to get an asparagus bed, but once you achieve it, you’ve got asparagus forever. Cover it, deprive it of sunlight, and it’s white. It’s a natural companion plant for tomatoes—it repels the tomato beetles.” She smiled at him. “Check out those brussels sprouts. By the end of September—by pumpkin time—I’m going to have a lot of them.”

“But…” She eyed him and noticed he was frowning slightly. “Is it working?” he asked.

“Yes!” she said emphatically. “Yes, Denny! It’s working! Oh, I think I missed the boat on a few plants, but most of this stuff is coming in strong. And there are lots of things I haven’t tried yet.”

“But… But can you make money?”

She laughed at him. “The most important part of the equation isn’t how much money you can make right away. We already know if it’s done right there’s money in it. Right now the important thing is, can we develop the product! That takes commitment. It takes patience and determination. When I went to work for BSS we had investment seed money, some support staff and some software engineers. We had a business plan and a product in production—accounting and money management programs. Five years later we had one of the biggest IPO’s in the industry.”

“IPO?”

“We were selling our software products at a profit and took the company public—Initial Public Offering. We’d been in business long enough to turn a consistent profit and did that with a skeleton crew and inventors. Now, for this garden, look at it this way—we need to know what we can grow, whether it’s desirable and delicious, who wants it, how much it brings the company, and then we concentrate on the most profitable crop. You know why we can afford to do that? Because it’s me and you and we’re concentrating on a good balance between generic and the rare, exotic stuff. And because we understand that this takes time and dedication.”