Love, Colin

She spent more time indoors after that, while Denny did some chores around the gardens. Not surprisingly, she did some crying. She’d gone from mourning to grieving, not only missing him but letting go of the expectations for a life with him that she’d hidden deep in her heart. She had been lying to herself that she was going to be able to let go without a fight.

After ten days some pictures came. Rhinoceros, elephants, cheetah, apes, even a lion! And the email that accompanied the pictures—which he sent to the entire group was short but exuberant. He was filled with excitement and exhilaration. She could feel the energy in his words.

At first it made her heart soar with happiness, that he reached out to her. She reveled in the pictures, looking at them over and over, reading and rereading the brief email. But there was no second, more personal note this time. And there still had not been a phone call. Her heart began to ache.

“Denny,” she said to him one Friday morning, “I need a little personal time. Take a week. Full pay, of course. Visit friends. Look up some of the state fair girls you met. Do chores around town. Whatever. I just want to tend my crop alone. I need a little time by myself and I don’t want to hide in the house or make you uncomfortable.”

“Are you going to be okay, Jillian?” he asked her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’ll be fine. Just missing him a little more than I thought I would.” She forced a smile. “My gardens heal me, but there could be some… Well, there could be some emotion I’m not real comfortable sharing with anyone. Please, just give me a week and then I’m sure we’ll be squared away. I’ll see you a week from Monday.”

“Listen, if there’s anything you need—”

“I apologize, but I just want my house and yard to myself for a little while. Solitude and my plants make me feel better.” She shrugged. “I have experience with it.”

She could tell Denny was reluctant to leave her alone, but he was such a sensitive guy, he gave her what she asked for. She felt so bad—she hadn’t even shared the most recent pictures with him! And of course Denny would be interested in what was going on with Colin, as well! But somehow she just couldn’t. She promised herself that when he came back to work in a week, she’d be all straightened out and they’d look at the pictures together.

Once Denny was gone, she let it go. The crying she’d been holding inside for God knew how long came flooding out of her. Her tears fell on many plants; she let them run down her cheeks and fall onto her T-shirt. She talked to him, though he was thousands of miles away. Colin, oh Colin, is it everything you wanted, everything you imagined and needed? Does every cell in your body scream that this was the right thing to do? Do you think of me sometimes?

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.”

“I thought I made it clear, Jack. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Well you owe me a few things,” Jack said. “When I put myself out for a friend, a brother, I expect acknowledgment if nothing else. Trust would be good. Maybe a little goodwill. Or how about this? How about my friend doesn’t act all pissed off all the time, like I just don’t measure up? You know, I told you the truth because it’s what you deserve. You expected me to bail out, but I never expected you to!”

Denny was quiet for a moment. Then he slowly drank about half his beer, put a couple of bucks on the bar and stood. “Sorry, Jack. Looks like I disappointed you from the start and I just can’t stop.” And then he turned and walked out of the bar.

Jack scowled blackly, insulted to his core. Then he picked up the money and threw it over the bar. “Buy a f**king drink in my f**king bar?” he muttered, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “No f**king way.”

He turned around, steamed.

Before the door closed on Denny, Luke Riordan walked in just in time to see the bills flutter to the floor. He stopped short for a second, then he bent to pick up the money. He put it on the bar just as Jack was turning back. “Lose something?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Maybe.” He gave the bar a wipe. “Taking a Brett break?”

“Yeah, he’s teething. Shelby said I looked like I’d had about enough. Beer?”

“Sure.” Jack put one on the bar.

Luke took a drink. “She’s a wise woman, that wife of mine,” Luke said. “So, Denny mention how things are going out at Jillian’s?”

“Not sure I can answer that, but she gave him a week off. She said she needed some time alone, or something like that.”

Luke sat up straighter. “She’s not alone enough with my brother in Africa?”

“Sounds like she’s missing him. No news there.”

Luke was quiet for a long moment. He didn’t lift the beer again, but he frowned. Then he put his two bucks on the bar and stood. “Gotta go. Thanks, Jack.”

Jack was completely aggravated. “Doesn’t anyone finish a beer around here anymore?”

It was just a little after four in the afternoon when Luke made the turn onto the drive that led up to the Victorian. Colin had been gone three weeks. Luke wanted to kick himself for not coming over sooner. He had called Jillian the first week and she said all was well, though she missed him. Ironically, so did Luke! The second week he had run into Denny at the bar and the young man said Jillian was a little on the quiet side—no big surprise. But there were no problems to report.

But Luke hadn’t seen her since Colin left and there was simply no excuse for that. Even though Colin had stupidly left her for six months of fun and games on another continent, this was Colin’s woman. It was an unspoken commitment the Riordan men had—they looked after each other’s families. Jillian was as close as it had ever come with Colin.

Luke pulled along the house to the rear, expecting to find Jillian in the garden. But she was right there on the porch, feet drawn up under her in the chair, multicolored quilt wrapped around her shoulders, big furry slippers sticking out.

He flashed a brief grin as he got out of his truck, but the grin slowly faded. She didn’t look so good. And she was still wearing her pajamas. It was doubtful she’d dressed this early for bed. More likely, she had never dressed for the day. Maybe more than one day.

He stepped up onto the porch, looked at her gaunt, tearstained face and said, “Aw, honey…”