Read Wild Man Creek for Free Online Page A

spiral staircase that led to the roof and a widow’s walk. The widow’s walk was accessed through a door that pushed open easily and stood ajar. The walk was large, probably twelve feet long, but only six feet wide.
    “A widow’s walk in a forest?” Jillian asked.
    “I don’t know where old Percival came from—he was Hope’s husband—but I bet there was an ocean nearby. This is a sea captain’s house, complete with widow’s walk. And the view is amazing.”
    Indeed, Jillian could see over the tops of the trees, down into the valley where there were vineyards. Way out westshe could see what had to be sea fog; on the other side of the house she could see a couple of farms, some roads and a piece of the Virgin River. “How much of this land was hers?” Jillian asked.
    “Most of the town property belonged to Percival but after he died Hope sold it off. She only kept ten acres,” Jack said. “She said when she was younger she had a couple of vegetable patches that were so big she was a legitimate farmer. When I moved to town and Hope was already in her eighties, she was still gardening in that big plot behind the house.”
    Jillian looked down, and sure enough, saw a great big backyard almost completely taken up with the garden, along with a thick copse of trees that included a few tall pines, but also spruce, hemlock, maple and cedar. There were also lots of thick bushes and ferns. This long, thick copse of forest separated the backyard from another large meadow that could be easily transformed into a second huge garden, but there was no visible way to get to it except through the trees. There didn’t seem to be a path or road.
    “How do you get back there?” Jill asked Jack, pointing. “To that big meadow behind the trees?”
    “Drive all the way around,” he said. “Through town, past farms and vineyards. Hope gave up that second garden and let trees and brush grow over the access drive. Those trees are likely thirty years old and fully grown. I imagine she planned to sell that back meadow off, but either didn’t get around to it or had no takers.”
    “This is amazing. This house should be an inn. Or maybe a commune. Or a house for a very large family. And one little old lady lived here all alone.”
    “For fifty years,” Jack said. “Percival married himselfa sixteen-year-old girl when he was near fifty. I bet he was hoping for a big family.”
    “I wonder if they were in love,” Jillian idly commented as they headed downstairs.
    “As far as I can tell they were together till he died, but no one knows much about them—at least about their personal lives. No one around here remembers Percival McCrea and there’s no question, he pretty well founded the town. He was the original landowner here and if he hadn’t left everything to his widow, and she hadn’t doled it out to friends and neighbors, there wouldn’t be a Virgin River.”
    Something seemed odd about the house and Jillian wasn’t sure what it was until they arrived in the spacious kitchen. She noticed that not only were there no appliances, there weren’t any plumbing fixtures! She gasped suddenly and said, “You don’t leave the place unlocked because it’s so safe around here, but because there’s nothing in here to steal!”
    Paul shrugged. “I didn’t want a door kicked in or window broken so someone could look around for something to steal. Unless they can figure out a way to get that claw-foot tub down the stairs, there isn’t anything to take. I guess they could steal the doorknobs, but that’s a real enterprising thief. I have a better front door with a leaded glass window stored in my garage for once the place is inhabited. Leaded glass is expensive. I have all the plumbing fixtures to install later. It is pretty safe around here, though. I mean, I never lock my door but Valenzuela, our town cop, says there’s the odd crime here and there and a person with a brain would just lock the damn door.”
    Jillian just