Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(104)

“I think he wants to hear everything. I remember.”

Of course he did, she thought. He remembered every long night he spent in battle zones, often in the same landscape, the same country where Rick served this very minute. He remembered every face of a young marine, every wounded man, every letter from home. For Jack to have been through it himself and let Rick go with such pride and confidence made him, in Mel’s mind, the strongest man alive.

“I have an idea,” she told him. “Go ask your sister and brother-in-law if they know any news that should be sent Rick’s way.”

Jack’s eyes briefly widened, then he walked briskly out the back door of the bar, across the yard to that RV, and banged on the door. Mel watched from the window as Brie stepped outside. A short conversation ensued and then she could hear her husband’s loud whoop of excitement just as he lifted his sister off her feet and swung her around and around. Then he was back, lifting Mel off her feet, bringing her face up to his. He covered her mouth in a searing, demanding kiss—but she found herself laughing against his lips. “Jack, she’s pregnant, not me!”

“It’s almost as good,” he said. “They want a baby so much. This is wonderful news.” Then he scowled a little bit and said, “Did you just leak some confidential medical information?”

“No,” she said. “Brie said I could tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

“This was much more fun. Are you done kissing me already?”

“Baby, I want to way more than kiss you. I’ll be very careful. How about it?”

She played with the hair at his temple. Not many women knew what it was like to have a man like this. A powerful and lusty man like Jack. He always put her needs and feelings ahead of his own, always looking to care for her in every way, keeping her safe, making sure she knew how loved she was. How wanted. In his love, in his arms, she always felt beautiful and sexy. Desired. Cherished. She kissed him on the lips and said, “Later. And you don’t have to be all that careful—I’m all right now.”

“But your poor little body has been through so much,” he said.

“John Stone was just here this morning, so he gave me a little check. I have my operator’s license back.”

“Oh, baby,” he said in a breath.

“But, Jack, you are not to write Rick about that!”

He grinned at her and said, “Just as well. I could never put it into words, what I feel with you.”

This was a kind of union Mel hadn’t even dared fantasize. The level of their intimacy, from the physical to emotional, was so deep and intense, it was impossible for either of them to tell where one ended and the other began. She could read his mind; he could sense her feelings. They anticipated each other in so many ways. It was as if his heart beat in her breast. She had never known another human being as she knew her Jack. And she made herself just as accessible to him, holding nothing back.

As July arrived, Paige’s time grew near. Mel was checking her by the week and she was progressing normally, ready for labor anytime. She had decided to have her baby at Doc’s because her small quarters weren’t really conducive to a home birth. And there was Christopher, only four. Lots of Mel’s rural patients had children around during deliveries; they’d come from families who had been having home births for generations and it was all part of the life cycle to them. For Paige and Preacher, however, this was a very new thing. In fact, Mel would have expected her to choose Valley Hospital and a sterile labor-and-delivery wing. But Paige was very determined—the only person who could deliver her was Mel.



Joe Benson was putting the plans together for Brie and Mike’s house, Paige and Preacher’s add-on. He also had some preliminary sketches ready to show Paul for his house, but felt hesitant. Since the incident with Nikki, their relationship was strained. Vanni seemed to be over her anger with Joe, but Joe wasn’t nearly over his disappointment in all of them. He supposed it would just take time.

What he would’ve liked was a little support. Maybe they could have gone to bat for him with the woman. Let her know that Joe was an okay guy, that he didn’t use and abuse women. Reassure her, maybe. Encourage her to at least get in touch with him. To maybe take a chance on him.

Joe hadn’t talked to Paul or Vanni about Nikki for a while. What he had done, however, was send notes to Vanni for Nikki about every other day, hoping to break through the barrier. Short, one-or two-sentence notes. “Please call me, Nikki. I want a chance to show you I’m a decent guy.” “Call me or write me and tell me you are absolutely not interested in seeing me again—but don’t do this. Don’t ignore me.” “I care. I thought it was clear in my actions that I’m sincere.” It took him a while to make himself stop; he began to feel like an idiot. And the more like an idiot he felt, the worse his mood. He hadn’t been passing notes like that since he was totally, insanely, ridiculously in love with Jodie Ferguson in the fourth grade. Blond, brilliant, distant Jodie—the first girl to get boobs in his class.

Although he had managed to kick his habit of note writing, he found a Nicole Jorgensen in the San Francisco phone directory and when he called that number, the voice on the answering machine was unmistakably hers. “Ah, Nikki, it’s Joe. From Grants Pass. I’d love to talk to you. No, I really need to talk to you. Please. I’ve been trying to reach you since the wedding. Come on, Nikki, we have things to talk about. I’m totally confused.”