by Robyn Carr
He was speechless. Finally he said, “I guess you know what they cost.”
“I know,” she said.
“Hope’s paying you better than I would’ve guessed.”
“Hope’s paying me practically nothing—but it also costs me practically nothing to live. Especially with that end-of-the-day cold beer on the house every night. No, this is my own investment.”
He whistled.
“I have a little money,” she said. “There were...there was...”
He reached across the console and put a hand on her thigh. “It’s all right, Mel. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t pry!” she exclaimed. “You don’t even ask, which is amazing to me. Here it is—there were investments. Retirement. Insurance. I sold the house at a ridiculous profit. And then there was a wrongful death suit—pending. It’ll settle. The little scumbag came from money. Jack, I have plenty of money. More than I really need.” She glanced over at him. “I’d appreciate it if that went no further.”
“No one even knows you’re widowed,” he told her.
She took a deep breath. “So—I had a long talk with June Hudson, the doctor in Grace Valley. I asked her what she’d do to turn an all-wheel-drive vehicle into a makeshift ambulance, and I have quite a shopping list. If it works out I’ll have a vehicle that can not only get me and Doc all over valley and into the hills, but get our patients to the hospital when we need to, without me sitting in the back of a pickup, holding an IV bag up in the air.”
“That’s a lot to do for a little town like Virgin River,” he said, and he said it very quietly.
He’d done a lot for the little town, too, she thought. He renovated a cabin into a bar and grill, served meals at low prices all day long. Drinks were cheap and it served more as a gathering place than a profit-making establishment. He probably didn’t need Ricky in there, but clearly he was a surrogate father. And Preacher—there was no question he was looking out for him, as well. But then, it probably didn’t take much for Jack to get by, either—he’d done most of the renovation work himself, collected a retirement from the military, and surely eked out a modest but completely adequate income from the place. And at the same time, enjoyed his life.
Mainly what Jack did for the town was sit at the center of it, helping anyone who needed anything. Anyone who served the needs of the town, like Doc or Mel, and lately the occasional sheriff’s deputy or highway patrol officer ate free. He’d do repairs, babysit, deliver meals and absolutely never went for supplies without phoning up little old ladies like Frannie and Maud, to ask if they needed anything. He’d done that with her, too. Behaved as though it was his mission to serve her needs.
“That little town has accidentally done a few things for me, too,” she said. “I’m starting to feel like I might live after all. A lot of that is because of you, Jack.”
Jack couldn’t help himself. He said, “You’re staying.”
“For the time being,” she said. “Another baby is coming at the end of summer. I live for those babies.”
One of these days, he said to himself, I’m going to tell her. Tell her I love her more than I thought I could love a woman. Tell her that my life started when she walked into town. But not yet. He didn’t want to back her into a corner and make her feel she had to either say she loved him, too, or run.
“Well, Mel, as it happens, I’ve driven a ton of Hummers.”
She glanced at him with surprise, for she hadn’t even thought of that. “Of course you have!” she said. “I had forgotten that!”
“I’m also a passably good mechanic. Born of necessity.”
“Good then,” she said. “You’ll be a bigger help than I realized.”
The first items on the agenda were her hair and his blood tests. Mel was very appreciative of the fact that her seventy-five-dollar cut and highlights seemed to be more than adequate. Either she’d been countrified or ripped off in L.A.
After that they went to a used car lot where there was one ridiculously high-priced used Hummer. It was a repo, had only twenty thousand miles on it, and seemed to be in good condition. Jack looked at the engine and had them put it up on the lift so he could examine the axle, frame, shocks, brakes and whatever else he could see. They took it out and it drove well, but the price was out-of-sight. Sixty thousand and it wasn’t loaded.
Except—Mel had a sweet little BMW convertible trade-in and cash. It took only a couple of hours to bring that price into range and Jack was able to pridefully explore another aspect of Mel’s character—she was a hardheaded, master negotiator.
Next they went to the hospital supply where they had the back of the Hummer outfitted with some emergency equipment, from a defibrillator to an oxygen tank. Some medical supplies had to be ordered and would be delivered to Virgin River within a couple of weeks. Then they drove it back down the highway and up the mountain pass to Virgin River. “You don’t want anyone to know where this came from,” Jack said to Mel. “How are you going to explain it?”
“I’m going to say that I used to work with a lot of rich, bored doctors in L.A. and hit them all up for donations for the town.”
“Ah,” he said. “If you leave?” He just couldn’t make himself say “when.”
“Maybe I’ll actually call some of those rich, bored doctors I really do know, and hit them up for a donation,” she said. “But let’s not put the cart before the Hummer.”
He laughed. “Let’s not.”
* * *
Mel and Jack took the Hummer back to the bar where they did a little show-and-tell with the dinner crowd who would waste no time spreading the word to the rest of the town. Doc Mullins, as if he was annoyed by this unnecessary addition to the town, grumbled that his old truck had worked just fine. But Mel countered his comments by telling him that he would have to get checked out in the new vehicle the very next morning. It soon became apparent that his fit of pique was obviously contrived and he was even caught smiling once or twice as he looked it over. Ricky talked her out of a spin and Preacher stood on the porch, arms crossed over his massive chest, grinning like a schoolgirl.
When Mel called June Hudson the next morning to tell her about the new vehicle, June suggested they get together at her home the next Sunday for a casual dinner of burgers and hot dogs. “If I bring some potato salad and beer, may I bring a friend?” Mel asked. She told herself she asked because this little picnic was comprised of couples, except for June’s dad, old Doc Hudson, and she didn’t want to feel oddly alone. But really it was because she had found she didn’t much like being away from Jack.
“So,” Jack said, grinning, “are you bringing me out of the closet?”
“Just for the day,” she answered. “Because you’ve been very good.”
June had the kind of adorable country house that Mel had fantasized about when planning her escape from the city—wide porch, bright paint, cozy furnishings, right up on a knoll from which she had a view of the valley. Part of her decor was comprised of needlepoint pillows and quilts—June was a master stitcher. She seemed to have the perfect country doctor life—her husband, Jim, to back her up and help with the baby; an ornery father butting in all the time and supportive and delightful friends in John and Susan Stone.
Susan was a nurse, so she and Mel compared notes. Plus, Susan and John were transplants from the city and she was candid about how it took her a while to appreciate the slower pace and get used to the absence of amenities in Grace Valley. “I used to go to the day spa down the street for a facial and eyebrow wax,” she said. “Now it’s a major undertaking just to buy groceries.” Susan was also very, very pregnant. She was continually pressing on her lower back, pushing her belly forward.
The women sat on the porch. June rocked in the porch swing and nursed her baby, Susan fidgeted, trying to get a throw pillow to sit right against her lower back, while out in the yard the
men stood around the Hummer, each one with a beer, occasionally looking inside or under the hood.
“That’s quite an attractive man you brought along,” June observed.
Mel glanced out at them. Jim and Jack were about the same height and weight and both wore their uniforms of jeans, plaid or denim shirts and boots. John, just a bit shorter at a very respectable six feet, was not quite as casually dressed in his khakis and polo, but a damn fine specimen. “Look at them,” Mel said. “They look like an ad for Virility Magazine. Mother Nature’s best work.”
“Mother Nature is twisted,” Susan said, squirming. “If she had any compassion, we’d have six-week pregnancies.” She winced. “I bet it’s really Father Nature. The creep.”
“Uncomfortable, huh?” Mel asked.
“I’m going to have back labor again, I just know it. It’s such a nice day to be so pregnant.”
“This is nice, June. Thank you,” Mel said. “It’s so relaxing, low stress, for me if not poor Susan. Does everybody in the valley have such simple, uncomplicated lives?”
June surprised her by laughing, after which Susan joined in. Sydney, Susan’s seven-year-old, burst through the door, blond curls flying, and ran down the steps with Sadie, June’s collie chasing her into the yard. She ran to her dad and hung on his leg for a minute, then continued racing around the yard with the dog in pursuit, the collie trying to herd her back to the group.
“Something’s funny?” Mel asked.
“Things haven’t exactly been uncomplicated around here. A couple of years ago I was pretty sure I’d never get married, much less have a baby.”
This caused Mel to scoot to the edge of her chair. “It seems like you and Jim have been together forever.”
“He came into my clinic late at night a little over a year ago, looking for help with a comrade’s gunshot wound. Jim’s now a retired law enforcement officer. When I met him, though, he was skulking around the countryside, working some case—and in the dark of night he’d sneak into my bedroom. I kept him my little secret for quite a while—until my tummy started to grow.”
“No way.”
“Oh, yeah. No one in town knew I even had a man in my life, and then suddenly I’m pregnant. And not a little pregnant—by the time I realized it, I was already pretty far along. We’ve only been married a few months. We didn’t get it done before the baby came.”
“In a small town like this?” Mel was flabbergasted.
“People were decent about it. I mean, we did have a flood, lost our preacher for a while, there was a huge drug raid out in the woods, one thing after another. And probably because they all took to Jim so quickly. But my dad almost had a stroke.”
“And maybe because Jim moved right into your house and wouldn’t let you out of his sight until you agreed to marry him,” Susan added.
“I had been single a long time,” June said. “I was a little nervous about the whole thing. I mean, we hadn’t even been together all that long—and my God, not very often. I don’t know how it happened,” June said. “But it sure happened fast.”
“No—you know how it happened,” Susan said. “This,” she said, petting the giant mound that would soon be screaming to be changed, “is the great mystery. We had to try for a long time to get Sydney. We needed a little help, in fact. I just don’t get pregnant.”
Maybe in time Mel would join in, share her secrets. For now, though, she just wanted to hear theirs.
“John and I were having a big fight,” Susan said. “We were barely speaking. I had him sleeping on the couch—he was such an ass. By the time I forgave him and let him back in bed with me, he was packing quite a punch.” She giggled. Her eyes twinkled.
“At least you’re married,” June put in.
“Tell us about your man,” Susan said.
“Oh, Jack’s not my man,” she said automatically. “He is the first friend I made in Virgin River, however. He runs a little bar and grill across the street from Doc’s—as much a meeting place as a restaurant. They don’t even have a menu—his partner, a big scary-looking guy named Preacher who turns out to be an angel—cooks up one breakfast item, one lunch item and one dinner item every day. On an ambitious day, they might have two items—maybe something left from the day before. They run it on the cheap, fish a lot, and help out around town wherever needed. He fixed up the cabin I was given to stay in while I’m there.”
The women didn’t say anything for a moment. Then Susan said, “Honey, I have a feeling he doesn’t think of you as a friend. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”
She glanced at him and as if he could feel her gaze, he turned his eyes on her. Soft and hard all at once. “Yeah,” Mel said. “He promised to stop doing that.”
“Girl, I’d never make a man stop doing that to me! You can’t possibly not know how much he—”
“Susan,” June said. “We don’t mean to pry, Mel.”
“June doesn’t mean to pry, but I do. You mean to say he hasn’t...?”
Mel felt her cheeks flame. “Well, it isn’t what you think,” she said.
June and Susan burst out laughing, loud enough to cause the men to turn away from their conversation and look up at the porch. Mel laughed in spite of herself. Ah, she had missed this—girlfriends. Talking about the secret stuff, the private stuff. Laughing at their weaknesses and strengths.
“That’s what I thought,” Susan said. “He looks like he can’t wait to get you alone. And do unspeakable things to you.”
Mel sighed in spite of herself, her cheeks growing hotter. He can’t, she almost said. And ohh...
June took the baby off her breast and put him on her shoulder to burp him. The group of men seemed to turn as one and head for the porch, Jim first. “Sounds like trouble up here,” he said. He reached for the baby and took over the burping.
John lowered his lips to Susan’s forehead and gave her a kiss. His other hand ran smoothly over her belly. “How are you doing, honey?” he asked solicitously.
“Great. Right after dinner, I want you to get it out of me.”
He handed her his beer. “Here, have a slug and mellow out.”
Jack stood behind Mel and put his hand on her shoulder. Without even realizing it, she reached up and stroked his hand.
“I’ll start the grill,” old Doc Hudson said, going through the house.
They all sat around a picnic table in the backyard, talking about their towns, their cases. Mel got some tips from John on home births—he explained that he was an OB before doing a second residency in family practice. He’d never done a home birth in Sausalito, but once he’d arrived in Grace Valley he’d become the local midwife. He liked the hospital but couldn’t convince all the women to leave their homes to deliver. Small-town stories were told, laughter was shared, and too soon it was growing dark.
As Jack and Mel were leaving, Mel took an opportunity to speak with June about the baby—Chloe. She expressed her concern that they still hadn’t heard anything from Social Services.
June was frowning. “It’s true that the county has a lot of ground to cover, but they’re usually pretty good. One of my closest friends is a social worker, although she’s in Mendocino County. I could run this by her—get her impression.”
“Maybe you should. Especially if you think this is irregular,” Mel said.
“I’ll do it, and give you a call. Meanwhile, if you consider the baby your patient, you can assess the situation. See if you can find out anything. Doc Mullins is smarter than he lets on,” June said. “He’s a crafty old devil. Find out if he’s got something up his sleeve.”
Mel hugged June while Jack waited at the car. “Thank you. For everything. It was a perfect day.”
Driving back to Virgin River, Mel was lost in one of the most serene moods she’d felt in a long time. Her connection to this place had d
eepened with the new friendships, and no small part of that was their acceptance of Jack.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Jack observed.
“I had such a good time,” she said dreamily.
“Me, too. Nice people, your friends.”
“They liked you, too. Did you know that Jim is a former cop?”
“I got that, yeah.”
“And John and Susan came up here from the city a couple of years ago. And Elmer—the old doc—he’s a riot. I’m so glad we did that.”
They drove in companionable silence until they neared Virgin River. Jack said, “What do you want to do tonight? My place?”
“Would you be terribly hurt if we took a night off?”
“Whatever you need, Mel. Just so long as nothing’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’ve never felt more right with the world. I just thought I’d go home, shower off the picnic and get a good night’s sleep.”
“It’s up to you.” He reached across the front seat and grabbed her hand. “It’s always up to you.” He drew her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss into her palm.
He pulled up to the bar and they traded places so she could drive home. After a kiss good-night, she left him there and went out to the cabin.
As she entered the clearing in front of her home, the first thing she noticed was a big, dark SUV parked in front of her cabin. The driver, the big nameless man with the ball cap and hair that curled beneath it was leaning against the passenger door. When she pulled up, he straightened and slipped his thumbs in his front pockets. She recognized him and the vehicle at once. This was the big guy who’d stopped by Doc’s several weeks ago, and what flashed through her mind was “someone’s pregnant.” Then she took note of his sidearm—a big gun, with straps holding the holster to his thigh. But his hands stayed away from it.
In a place like this, she was never sure how to feel about a person toting weapons. If she’d seen this in the city, she’d have ducked for cover. But out here, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. She could play it safe and make a run for it, though she didn’t handle the Hummer so well yet. Besides, the man had already approached her in the clear light of day to ask about a delivery. She pulled up, keeping her headlights on him, and he seemed to straighten expectantly, stepping away from the SUV. She opened her door and stepped out. “What are you doing out here?”