Promise Canyon (Virgin River #13)(22)

"Bring him on," Nate said. "I can't wait to meet him. Why did I think your life was uncomplicated?"

"I have no idea, Nathaniel."

Five

Clay had stocked his small refrigerator and a cupboard with a few items for quick, easy meals, and he'd had dinner with Nate and Annie a couple of times, but by far the best tip he'd gotten since arriving in the area was about Jack's Bar. Nathaniel mentioned that he and Annie met at Jack's in Virgin River and enjoyed some of the most delectable dinners they'd ever had while taking care of a boxful of puppies...and falling in love. Since Clay had met Jack on his way into town, watching that group of men as they pulled the old pickup up the hill, he was anxious to give the bar a try. Clay wasted no time in getting over there to see what was on the menu.

The first revelation--there was no menu. Preacher served up one dinner item daily and decided what it would be based on whatever suited him that day. It was whispered to Clay that there were sometimes leftovers from previous nights, and nobody would take offense if he preferred those to the special of the day. But Clay was more than satisfied with any of Preacher's dinners--the man knew what to do with a piece of meat. Jack proved a pleasant dinner companion, making introductions as people wandered into the bar, then standing on the other side of the bar with his coffee while Clay ate.

By his third visit to Jack's bar, Clay knew all the regulars. The local constable and Jack's brother-in-law, Mike Valenzuela, dropped by frequently. Jack's wife, the local midwife, Mel, would take a swing through before heading home from work. If she had a house call, she'd drop off their small children for Jack to tend, or she'd drop them at Preacher's house to be tended by a sitter or Preacher's wife, Paige. He saw the town minister again; Noah Kincaid made it a point to drop by and visit with folks. And there was Hope McCrea, town busybody, who stopped by almost daily for her shot of Jack Daniel's.

"Do anything special?" Hope asked him right off.

"Special?" he asked, picking up his coffee. "I shoe horses. And do some other stable chores."

She snorted, held up a finger to order her drink and shook a cigarette out of her pack. "Haven't got any use for that," she informed him.

"Lucky for me, Nathaniel Jensen does."

"That who brought you to town? The vet?"

"Yes, ma'am. We go way back. And I have a sister in Grace Valley--Ursula Toopeek."

"Is that a fact? I don't know Mrs. Toopeek, but I've had a little traffic with the police chief."

"Have a little trouble with the law?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

She grinned at him and pushed her heavy black-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. "You should fit in around here. Just another smart-ass."

Clay liked the cranky old woman. But theirs was not to be a lengthy relationship, it turned out. On his fourth visit to Jack's for dinner, Jack's wife came into the bar. She jumped up on a bar stool without saying hello to anyone and, looking grimly serious, she said, "I have some sad news, Jack. Bruce was delivering mail to Hope McCrea and noticed some had piled up in her box. He walked around the house to see if anything seemed out of order.... He found her on the back porch." A tear slid down Mel's cheek. "She's dead, Jack."

He looked thunderstruck. "I wondered if she was okay--she hasn't come by for a couple of days. Not that it's totally unusual--sometimes days go by before we see her--especially when she's got some project going on. But, man... Natural causes?"

"I guess you could say so," Mel said with a sniff. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket. "It wasn't a homicide, but she was sitting in her porch chair, her cigarette burned down to her fingertips. She was eighty, Jack. Bruce called the county coroner to pick her up, but I can't think of any reason there would be an investigation."

"Damn," Clay said. "I liked her. She reminded me of some of my family." They turned and looked at him. He shrugged. "I'd have taken her for at least ninety-five." He turned to Mel and touched her arm gently. "You gonna be all right?"

"She brought me to Virgin River," Mel informed him. "Well, she tricked me, but she got me here and for that I owe her a lot. If it wasn't for Hope, I wouldn't know my husband, wouldn't have had my children." She looked back at Jack. "I have even worse news. You're going to have to go in that house. You're probably the closest thing to family she's got and someone has to go in, look around, figure out what's to be done next. Hope would spin in her grave if that house was taken by the bank or state for unpaid taxes. There must be a bankbook or will or something in there somewhere. If you can't find anything, we should keep up the bills until we can figure something out."

"Awww, Mel..." he said.

Clay shot him a look. "Did you just whine?"

"You gotta understand, Clay. I'm pretty sure that house is something out of a nightmare. I don't think Hope threw anything away in at least fifty years."

"When I got here and asked her if there was a better place to stay than the falling-down, leaky cabin she had arranged for me," Mel said, "she said it would take her all night to clear a space on her couch for me. Jack's right--it can't be good. But she looked after this town. Likely she had some kind of plan. Maybe Jack can unearth a deed or strongbox or something. Or, like with old Doc Mullins when he went, at least a scrawled-out note of intentions."