A Virgin River Christmas (Virgin River #4)(19)

Really, the cost didn’t matter. No matter what she needed, even if it was the hospital, he’d find a way. He couldn’t let her be sick. In less than twenty-four hours, all he really wanted was to see her smile like she had in that old picture Bobby had shown him.

He was barely conscious that the woman in the office had made a phone call and shrugged into her coat.

When Doc returned with his bag, he frowned at her. It was more like a glower. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“With you. Jack has David and this is a woman. You’ll end up wanting me there.”

“You’re pregnant and don’t need to be around flu.”

She laughed and her face lit up so pretty. “Like I haven’t been drenched in flu since the cold and rain hit. Gimme a break. Let’s go.” And she headed out the door.

“Damn pigheaded woman,” Doc muttered. “She’d never take an order from me, but you’d think a little friendly advice would be welcome—” Ian held the door open for him. “Women are nothing but a pain in the—Why I never married. Not quite true, no one would have me.” He stopped and navigated the stairs down the porch with his cane.

“Um, Doc—you wanna lock up?” Ian asked.

“Nah. I locked up the drugs and Jack and Preacher are across the street. They smell trouble and they’re armed to the teeth. It’s a dead fool that bothers my place.”

“Hmm,” Ian said. They had it all worked out in this little town. Made him wonder just what that felt like. He hadn’t had things all worked out in a long, long time.

There was a shiny Hummer sitting beside his old truck and the pregnant blonde was at the wheel, waiting. They must do a brisk business these days to afford a ride like that. The roll of bills in his pocket shrank again.





Ian opened the door for Doc Mullins and Mel and once again, Marcie slept so soundly she didn’t realize he was back. “I’ll just check the stove for wood and then wait outside,” he said. Mel pulled a chair from the table and put it by the couch, giving it a tap so Doc would take a seat. Then she gently jostled Marcie’s shoulder and called out to her, talking over Doc’s shoulder. “Marcie, can you wake up? Come on, open your eyes.”

When Marcie’s eyes came open, Mel smiled. “Hi there. Not feeling so good, huh? You remember me—Mel Sheridan from Virgin River. I’m the one who was dragged off a ladder in the middle of town by a brute.”

“Yes,” Marcie said. “Sure.” And she came awake with a dry cough, turning her head aside.

“This is Doc Mullins. I work with him. He’s a family practitioner. I’m a nurse practitioner and midwife. Ian came for us. His diagnosis is flu. What’s yours?”

“Ugh. It’s probably just a bad cold.”

“But your nose ain’t running,” Doc said. “Sit up for me, girl. I have to hear your chest.” While Doc slid the cold stethoscope under the flannel shirt to listen to her lungs, she treated him to a deep, brittle cough. When she recovered, she took a few deep breaths for him, then sat patiently while he looked in her ears and throat, taking her temperature and palpating her glands.

Mel said, “So, you found your man.”

“I did,” Marcie said. “Your husband told you?”

“Uh-huh. I don’t tell patient business without permission, but Jack’s an open book unless he has specific instructions to keep a secret. How’d Ian take to being found?”

“Thoroughly pissed him off. You should hear him—he can roar like a Siberian tiger. It’s kind of amazing. Scared the liver out of me at first.”

“And now?” Mel asked.

She looked up at Mel. “He saved my life. He said I almost froze to death and he brought me in and warmed me up. He went for you…”

“He said he didn’t want to bring you to town because the heater in his truck isn’t working very well. But I have a good heater and we have a couple of beds at the clinic—”

“Can’t I just stay here?” she asked.

“Are you sure?”

“I came all this way…I’ve been looking for him…”

“You can come to town with us until you feel better, then decide what to do. You can come back if you have unfinished business here. If you need a little backup, there’s my husband and me.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d rather see this through, then I’ll go home.” And what she didn’t say was that she was a little afraid he might disappear again.

“But do you feel safe with him? It’s pretty rugged out here. Your tiger doesn’t have a lot of creature comforts.”

“I don’t think Ian has much, being out here like this. But it’s enough, isn’t it? It’s warm, there’s food, he made me tea, bought me orange juice. He gave me aspirin…”

“I don’t know him, Marcie,” Mel said. “And from what I hear, you don’t know him either. He’s a recluse—does he even have any friends?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “He has me.”

“Do I take that to mean he’s not roaring at you anymore?” Mel asked.

“I hope so. I think he’s all calmed down.”