Shelter Mountain (Virgin River #2)(93)

This was the place for him, he realized without much surprise. He didn’t know what he’d do here, but it didn’t really matter, because he could retire if he wanted to. He had his disability, his pension. And it cost nothing to live here. Until something changed in his head, he wanted this easy life in a small, uncomplicated town. By the time Jack was ready to frame his house in early summer, his right arm and shoulder would be strong enough to help. He’d add to the menu at Jack’s with his own fish; he’d help around town where needed. He’d live as Jack and Preacher had lived, at the center of a town that appreciated their good works and loyal friendship.

Now when he stood in front of the mirror, stripped to the waist, he saw a muscled chest, shoulders, arms. His right side was still smaller than his left around the shoulder and biceps, but it had come a long way and was barely noticeable. Sit-ups were easy; he had his six-pack back.

It was easier to pee, thanks to a round of antibiotics prescribed by Mel. But that other thing—it might be gone for good. He’d had two false alarms, waking up with a good pee hard. He’d gripped it like a drowning man, filled with hope. But, nothing. It just went back down, like the docile memory it had become. He was afraid to hope, but being a man, he held out for a miracle.

So, Mike drove to Eureka, where he bought an RV—his new home. It was his goal to be free and clear of the cabin before the baby came so that Jack and Mel could have their life back. He could park it anywhere he was needed—behind the bar, out at Mel’s cabin, even on the property on which Jack was going to build. When he drove it into town, towing his SUV behind, he pulled it right up to the front of the bar. It was the end of the workday—dinnertime. Preacher and Paige would be cooking, Rick would be working, Jack and Mel would be having that after-work drink with Doc. Friends and neighbors would be gathering soon.

He extended the bedroom and living room walls with the pop-outs and pressed the switch for the awnings, for the full effect. Once these walls were pushed out, the bedroom and living room became comfortably large. Then he honked the horn, bringing everyone out on the porch.

He jumped out—sans cane for weeks now—and stood in front of the RV, leaning against it. Mel was the first one out, Jack close on her heels.

“My new apartment,” Mike said.

“When…? What…?” Mel stammered.

He reached out his left hand to help her descend the porch steps. When she was down, he dropped an arm around her shoulders. “I wanted to get out of the cabin before the baby—it’s time to put that nursery together and I’ll help do that.”

“But where are you going?” she asked, looking up at him with eyes that had suddenly grown moist.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I love it here. But I need my own house. More important, you need your own house.”

And when he said that, she fell against him and wept.

“Aw,” he said, putting his good arm around her. “I hope those are glad tears.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him. “I didn’t want us to lose you,” she whispered. She wiped impatiently at her eyes. “God, I’m sorry. You have no idea what it’s like to be this pregnant. My emotions are like a landslide.”

“Naw, I’m honored, Mel. You guys—you’ve been everything to me these last few months. I started thinking I’m well enough to go home—then realized that this feels like home.”

She hugged him tightly around the waist. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.”

“Want a tour?”

“Of course. Jack,” she said, “get Preacher, Paige and Rick.”

When Rick came out on the porch, his face split in a huge grin and it filled Mike up inside. Rick had been coming along real well since his loss, but the goofy kid the Marines had all come to think of as a little brother had been replaced by a somber and quiet young man. “What the heck?” Rick asked.

“My new digs. What do you think?”

“I think that’s awesome,” he said, jumping off the porch to join the tour.

They combed through the RV, admiring the accoutrements. Full kitchen with a nearly full-size refrigerator, freezer, washer and dryer, roomy bedroom with a queen-size bed, large closet that occupied a whole wall, large bathroom with a two-person shower, TVs in both the bedroom and living room with roving satellite reception. Plenty of cupboard and closet space for a bachelor and storage compartments underneath.

Before long, there were a number of people trailing dirt through the new RV—Connie and Ron, Doc, Hope McCrea, the Bristols and Carpenters. Christopher loved the big bed, tucked back in the end of the RV.

“Where you going to park this thing?” Preacher asked.

“I don’t know. Probably out at Jack and Mel’s, till I get a better idea. I could always park out there behind the bar, near the tree line, where the boys all sit when they come to town to fish. Or, I might even look around for land. But not yet. For right now, I’m just going to hang out. Near my friends.”

Over dinner they talked about the baby’s room, the spackle, paint and papering Mel wanted done. Mike told them he planned to clear out of his room in the morning and then wanted to help get that room set up for the baby. He’d take Mel to Ukiah where there was a Home Depot to pick out what she wanted. And, he told them, after that room was set, he was going to drive down to L.A. to see his folks, brothers and sisters, so he could be back when Mel delivered. “I figure to be one of the many uncles, so this is where I should be when it’s time.”