Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(111)

When they were back in the truck, Jack asked Jim, “What do you make of them?”

“Vagrants. Just living in the forest. They didn’t have the means to put that trailer in there—that was arranged by whoever Calvin was working for. They’ll go, most likely. Deeper in the forest, where they can set up camp again and be left alone. We’ll let Henry know where to find it. But you should make good on your advice just the same. They can’t be here anymore. If they’re not dangerous, they’re willing to be taken advantage of by dangerous people.”

“I didn’t see any guns. They have to be armed.”

“Oh, sure—but they’re not armed with much. They saw what we’re carrying—none of these old boys are going to be shooting at us. The ones to worry about are guys like Calvin’s boss, and his boss’s boss. DEA cleared out a whole town in the Trinity Alps several years ago while I was an agent—and now those boys had ’em some guns.” Jim gave Jack a shot in the arm. “I’m for staying out of their business. If Forestry runs across them, they’ll report them to the sheriff’s department or maybe to the DEA.”

The spirit of the town was tense and worried. Jack had become their favorite son, and his chosen woman—the woman who had come here to help people—had had a brush with death.

Throughout the day, neighbors came to Doc’s bearing food and offering conversation. There were no patients, only friends. Doc got out of bed and dressed, coming downstairs to visit. With the exception of a short nap in the afternoon, he stayed up the entire day.

Jim and June only stayed a couple of hours, but Jack was a presence on and off throughout the day, which worked well because people who came by the house to check on Mel were anxious to talk to him. “Shot him while he held her at knife-point, they’re saying.” Jack merely nodded and reached for her hand. “How’d you dare?

How’d you know you wouldn’t be off by a half inch?”

“I didn’t have that much to spare,” he said. “I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger if I thought there was any chance I’d be off my mark.”

Another matter of great interest was the shining ring that graced Mel’s finger. The engagement was met with happiness and affection, though not surprise. There were many questions about the wedding, and a serious protest when it was learned that there would be a small ceremony in a few days for family only in Sacramento. Jack, Doc and Mel ate a dinner made up of the food brought by well-wishers and when it was done and the dishes cleaned up, Doc said, “I’m going to bed, Melinda. You should go back to your man’s bed. Those hospital beds are no place for the two of you.” And up the stairs he slowly trudged.

“Yes, you should,” Jack confirmed, taking her with him across the street. Having slept so little the night before, once she was in Jack’s bed, curled up against his warmth, she nearly passed out from exhaustion.

Before the sun was even up the next morning, she was awakened by the sound of amassing vehicles. She looked at the clock and saw that it was barely 5:00 a.m. She rummaged around for clothes and went through the bar onto the porch to see what all the commotion was about. There in the street were trucks, campers, AWD vehicles, SUVs, cars. Men were standing around in the street, checking their rifles, even putting on flak jackets and bulletproof vests. Some wore jeans and work shirts, some wore fatigues. She recognized faces among them—Mike Valenzuela from L.A., Zeke from Fresno, Paul Haggerty and Joe Benson from Grants Pass, Oregon. There were also neighbors and ranchers and farmers from Virgin River. She saw that Ricky was with them, looking for all the world like a grown man.

She watched them for a while before Jack noticed her standing there, her hair all mussed from sleep, her feet bare. He handed his rifle off to Paul and went to her.

“You look like a girl,” he said. “A little pregnant girl, but I know better.” He grinned.

“I thought maybe you could sleep awhile longer.”

“Through this? What’s going on?”

“Scavenger hunt,” he said. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Come on, Jack.”

“We’re going to check, see if the woods need to be cleaned out,” he said.

“With weapons? Vests? My God, Jack.”

He pulled her against him briefly and said, “I doubt we’ll have any trouble, Mel. But we should be prepared for whatever we run into. We’re just going to cut a wide circle around the town—be certain there are no drug farmers or criminals close by. No camps like the one Thompson came from. No camps for people like Thompson to hide out in.”

“How will you know whether there are dangerous people in ordinary camps? I’m told there are plenty of those kind of camps scattered around. Squatters, vagrants, mountain people.”

He shrugged. “Then we should know who’s out there. Look for what’s in their camps, check their weapons so we know what they have. Pot’s pretty easy to spot—it has a real distinctive green color and it almost always comes with camouflage and a generator.”

She put a hand on the vest he wore. “And you need this because—”

“Because I’m going to be a father soon, and I don’t take foolish chances. One of these idiots could misfire.”

“You’re taking Ricky with you?”