Virgin River (24 page)

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’re a grown-up.”

“It wasn’t like this. This feel casual to you?” he asked her.

“Actually, it feels a little intense.”

“Good,” he said. “Everything about this is different. I hope you understand that.”

“You’re not just sleeping with me?” she asked, teasingly.

“I
am
sleeping with you,” he said, running his hand over her smooth shoulder and down her arm. He gave her a sweet, short kiss. “It’s not just sex. It’s everything. It’s special.”

She laughed at him. “Are you
seeing
me?” she teased.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a first for me.”

“So, in some ways, you’re just a virgin from Virgin River.”

“In this, I am.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“This is madness, I want you all the time. I feel like a kid.”

“You don’t act like a kid,” she said.

“Melinda—I have had more erections in the last week than I’ve had in the last decade. Every time you walk by, I have to concentrate on something else. This hasn’t happened to me since I was sixteen, when anything from a beer commercial to a geography assignment could put me in agony. It was almost laughable, if it wasn’t just so ridiculous.”

“Raging hormones,” she said with a laugh. “You are an amazing lover.”

“I’m not doing this alone,” he said. “You’re pretty amazing yourself. Damn, baby. We fit together real nice.”

“Jack—does everyone in town know?”

“They’d be guessing. I haven’t said anything.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you have to.”

“We could try to keep it quiet, if that works better for you. I could manage to not look at you like I’m going to have you for dessert, if that’s what you want.”

“It’s just that…well, you know. I have these issues.”

“I know. I held you through some major issues. And I do understand that it’s going to take more than a little sex to resolve all that.” He grinned. “Good sex.”

“
Very
good sex.”

“Oh, yeah…” he agreed breathlessly.

“Just so you know. I’m still all screwed up. I don’t want to disappoint you. Jack, I don’t want to hurt you.”

He ran a hand down her body, lightly brushing her soft, warm skin. “Mel, this doesn’t hurt.” He smiled. “It feels real, real good. Don’t worry about me.” He gave her a light kiss. “You want to try to keep this…us…quiet? Private?”

“Think it would work?”

“There’s probably no point in pretending,” he said. “It’s your call.”

“Oh, what the hell,” she said. “It isn’t against the law, is it?”

He leaned over her and kissed her more deeply. “It probably should be.” He kissed her again.

In the early morning as dawn was just beginning to streak through the cabin windows, Jack was stirred awake by the soft sound of slightly off-key humming. He found Mel nestled into the crook of his arm, her breath tickling his chest. She was purring, humming, her lips moving slightly, as though singing. It might’ve troubled him if her expression had been sad or disturbed. But she was smiling. She snuggled closer, throwing a leg over his. And this sleepy little music, contented, drifted out of her.

He could count on one hand the number of times he’d spent the entire night in bed with a woman. And
already, he couldn’t imagine waking up alone. He pulled her closer knowing he’d never been happier in his life.

R
ick called Liz every couple of days, although he wanted to call her seven times a day. His pulse always picked up when he dialed, then the sound of her voice made it race.

“Lizzie, how you doing?” he’d ask.

“I miss you,” she would always say. “You said you’d come over.”

“I’m going to. I’m trying. But with school and work… So, how are…things?”

“I just wish I was there, instead of here.” Then she’d laugh. “Funny, I hated my mother for making me go to Aunt Connie’s, and now I hate her for making me stay here.”

“Don’t hate your mom, Liz. Don’t.”

Then they’d talk for a while, about kids, about school, about Virgin River and Eureka, just mundane stuff. She never volunteered any information about the feared pregnancy.

Rick was dying a million deaths. He was terrified something had gone wrong and she was caught with a baby on that one and only night. But almost worse than
that, he wasn’t sure what was happening to him, in his head, in his body. He dreamt about her, wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to smell her hair and kiss her lips. He wanted her breast in one hand, but he also wanted to have her riding beside him in that little truck on the way to and from school, cracking jokes, laughing, holding hands.

This phone call was no different than the others had been. Then she asked, “Why don’t you come to Eureka?”

He drew a heavy breath. “I’ll tell you the truth, Liz—I’m afraid to. You and me, we get pretty worked up.”

“But you have those rubbers…”

“I told you before, that’s not enough. You have to get something, too. Pills or something.”

“How’m I gonna do that? I don’t even drive. You think I should say to my mom, ‘Hey, I have to get some birth control—me and Ricky want to do it’?”

“If you were here, you could see Mel. Maybe you can talk your mom into a visit to Virgin River.” But even as he said that, he cringed. And flushed so hot he thought he might faint. Was he really suggesting to a fourteen-year-old that she get herself fixed up so they could have sex? In the cab of a truck?

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I think I would hate that. I don’t think I could tell someone who’s like, grown-up. Could you?”

He already had; Preacher and Jack both knew. But he said, “I could if it was this important.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”

If you couldn’t stop dreaming about a girl, if you constantly thought about the way her hair felt against your cheek, if you couldn’t get the softness of her skin
out of your mind, did that mean you loved her? If you felt a little better after every time you talked to her, heard her laugh, did that mean anything, or were you just this horny sixteen-year-old boy? He knew he was that—the thought of getting inside her again almost made steam come out of his ears. But there was other stuff. He could talk to Liz; he could listen to her.
Wanted
to listen to her. He could almost go into a trance when she told him about something as boring as algebra. If he had one drop of courage, he’d ask Jack—what is love and what is sex? When are they the same thing?

Finally he asked, “Any news about being pregnant, Lizzie?”

“You mean…?”

“Yeah, I mean that.” Silence answered him. She was going to make him say it, once again. Every time he asked, his gut clenched just from forming the words, words alien to a boy. “Did you get your period?” he asked, grateful she couldn’t see the color of his cheeks.

“That’s all you really care about.”

“No, but I care about it a lot. Liz, baby, if I got you in trouble, I’m gonna want to die, okay? I just want the scare over, that’s all. For both of us.”

“Not yet—but that’s okay. I told you—I’m not regular. And I feel fine. I don’t feel like anything’s different.”

“I guess that’s something,” he said.

“Ricky, I miss you. Do you miss me?”

“Ohhh, Liz,” he said in an exhausted breath. “I miss you so much it scares the hell out of me.”

Mel made a few phone calls the following week, then asked Jack if he could pry himself away from the
bar for a full day to run some errands with her. She wanted to drive into Eureka, she said. And she didn’t want to go alone. Of course he said he could—he did anything she asked of him. He offered to drive, but she told him she’d like to take her car, put the top down and enjoy the sunny June weather.

When they were underway, she said, “I hope this wasn’t too presumptuous of me, Jack. I made myself an appointment at the beauty shop and one for you at the clinic—that testing you offered.”

“I was going to run over to the coast, to the Naval Air Station there, but this is just as convenient. I meant it when I offered. I want you to feel safe.”

“I’m not worried, really. It’s just a precaution. And if anything turns up, I’ll get screened. I wouldn’t put you at risk, you understand. But the last seven years, it was only…” She stopped.

“Your husband,” he finished for her. “You can say it. That was your life. That
is
your life. We have to be able to talk about it.”

“Well,” she said, gathering herself up again. “Then, I’ve made arrangements to test-drive a vehicle and I’d like your opinion. A vehicle that doesn’t get stuck in the mud.”

“Really?” he said, surprised. “What kind of vehicle?”

She stole a glance at him, so neatly folded up in the front of her BMW, his knees sticking up so high it almost made her laugh. “A Hummer,” she said.

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.”