Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(38)

When Paige woke from her procedure, she was told that fortunately it appeared there had been no further damage to her reproductive organs. She would only stay through the night for observation and could be released in the morning, but Dr. Stone wanted her to stay off her feet for at least a couple of days.

The next face she saw was Preacher’s. “Hi,” he said softly.

She reached for his hand. “Where’s Christopher?” she asked sleepily.

“He’s with Mel and Jack. They’re staying at the bar till I get back. I’ll keep him in my room through the night and bring him with me to pick you up in the morning.”

“Hmm,” she said.

“Paige, are you awake enough for me to tell you some things? I want to tell you without the boy.”

“Hmm,” she said. “I think so.”

“Here’s how it is. Wes was arrested. Paige, they found drugs on him. They wouldn’t tell me what, just that he’s going to be arraigned for a couple of felonies—battery, possession, defying an order of protection. He might make bail but he’s going to have to go to trial. Judge Forrest promises he’ll at least get a fast trial—and believe me, if I have to stand over you twenty-four hours a day until he’s in prison, I’m willing to do that. I’m so sorry I let this happen to you.”

“You did all you could, John,” she said sleepily.

“He’s not getting off this time. You did it, Paige. Okay? You with me, Paige?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m with you.”

“Then…” He stumbled. “Then, when he’s convicted and locked up, you can go home if you want to. Get your custody and divorce. He can’t get custody if he’s in prison. No ifs. Felons can’t get custody. He can’t keep you from getting a divorce.”

“Home?” she asked.

“You can do whatever you want.”

“How long will he be in jail?” she asked.

“No idea,” he said. “Your lawyer is trying to get them to add attempted murder to his charges, given the baby, but that’s a real stretch. Paige, I’m awful sorry about the baby.”

“That baby,” she said weakly. “I tried, but it just didn’t have a chance.”

He put his big hand softly against her tummy, the most personal he’d ever been with her. “I know you did. It wasn’t your fault. It was more my fault than yours.”

“John, stop saying that. Of all people, it was least of all your fault.”

“You’re as good as free.”

“Free. I won’t know how to act.”

“Think you’ll want to go back to L.A.?” he asked.

“I don’t know. So many bad memories.”

“If you want a place to sit for a while, while you think things over, you can have that room that smells like bacon in the morning for as long as you want.” Then very quietly, almost to himself, he said, “For life, if you want.”

“I could help out,” she said. Eyes closed, she smiled sleepily. “I could do dishes.” Her eyelids fluttered a little, but she couldn’t keep them open.

He brushed her hair back. “Jack wants to build a house,” he said. “It’s going to take him away from the business. I could always use the help. You and Christopher…”

“Hmm,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re done. You have to sleep.”

“Hmm.”

He leaned over and gently touched his lips to her forehead. “I’ll be back for you in the morning.”

“Okay.”

He started to leave and she said, “John?”

He turned back to her bed.

“Could I? Stay there until I feel better?”

His chest felt suddenly full, as if it might burst. He tried to tamp down hope, but it was impossible. “Of course. I love having you there. Everyone loves having you there.”

“It’s nice there,” she said, and her eyes closed.

Seven

Paige was once again burrowed into the room over the kitchen, but this time her injuries were not terrible. She had to recover from her D and C by staying off her feet for a couple of days, and although she’d received a bloody nose, it was not broken. While she rested, Preacher watched Christopher. Via long distance, Brie helped line up a lawyer in L.A. to appeal to the court to reverse the order to return Christopher to his father, given his pending trial. Wes Lassiter made bail after three days and went back to Los Angeles, returning to his job before his employer could sniff out the arrest. Preacher was not content to take Lassiter’s lawyer’s word for that—he called Mike Valenzuela, who was happy to check, twice a day if necessary, to be sure that Lassiter was back at his job, hundreds of miles away from Virgin River.

It seemed as though things might calm down, at least until the trial, but then Mel was surprised by a patient she wasn’t expecting. A patient and condition she would never have anticipated.

Doc was off fishing when Mel’s friend Connie came to the clinic. Connie was in her early fifties, a good-natured little redhead who was still recovering from cardiac bypass surgery that she’d had last May. She was almost back to her old self. With her was her niece, Liz. Upon seeing Liz’s face, Mel’s first reaction was to smile brightly, but then, noting that Liz’s eyes were downcast, her smile froze. Mel’s gaze drifted lower to the very slight rounding of her tummy, and she felt her heart plummet. Oh-oh. Then she stole a glance at Connie’s face and saw her friend grimace, then shrug, helpless.