Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(119)

“You better keep that to yourself for a while, pal,” someone advised.

There were also locals—Doug Carpenter, Fish Bristol, Buck Anderson and two of his sons. All certified volunteer firefighters.

Everyone but Jack was in the truck. He went to his wife, leaned down and kissed her lips. “When they tell you it’s time, gather up the kids and get out of town.”

“It’s not going to come to that, Jack. It can’t. I don’t know if I can leave this place….”

“You do it. Keep them safe. And have someone get Ricky’s grandma out.”

“I’ll watch out for Lydie, but I’m waiting for you,” she said. “I’m waiting right here. I’ll be here when you’re done and Virgin River will be fine.”

“Melinda, don’t you dare take any chances.”

“Don’t you,” she said. “You come back as soon as you can.”

He smiled at her. “You know you can’t get rid of me.” He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her up to his mouth. “You taste too good.” He grinned. “Behave yourself.”



Jack climbed into the truck and sat next to Joe. “Looks like maybe you got some things straightened out,” Jack said.

“Might have a start on it. How’d you round up all these old boys?”

“Five of us were already here,” Jack said. “I just can’t believe these other guys. They must never have to work.”

“The few. The proud,” Phillips said. “The soon-to-be jobless if we don’t knock this shit off.”

It took a half hour to get to their area, the fire spreading toward them. Here there were steam shovels, trucks and water tenders parked along the road. All the firefighters, including the volunteers, had their gear on their backs—food, water, survival gear. They were assigned jobs—chain saws for cutting down trees or removing branches, Pulaskis and drag-spoons. They were herded up an old abandoned logging road with the rest of the hand crew. The farther they went, the thicker the air got, the more sparks were flying. They were organized into a line, some of them felling huge trees while hand crews were cutting boughs off felled pines to decrease the fuel to the fire. Still others were digging a wider gap to separate the tree line from the burning forest, digging out vegetation, throwing dirt on small pockets of spreading fire. Water tenders were driving farther back to spray down the small fires started by blowing sparks and embers. Jack walked all the way up to the end of the line and started turning earth. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he said, throwing dirt to cover the felled trees and chopped boughs.

“We all are, man,” Paul said. He looked up. “You think we could get one frickin’ cloud in the sky?”

“Go ahead and pray,” Jack suggested.



The general drove up to the bar and walked inside. The first thing he saw was Brie, her baby niece swaddled in a carrier around her front, setting up pitchers of water on the bar for firefighters. He heard the sound of a baby crying in the back, in Preacher’s quarters. He went behind the bar and dived right in. “I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you and Paige take the kids out to the ranch. It’s surrounded by flat land and river—no danger there. I’ll handle the bar.”

“Mel can’t leave and I have her nursing baby right here,” Brie said. “She’s been treating minor injuries with paramedics and has to be on hand for more.”

“The air here isn’t the best for these kids. I have someone I can call to help. You should get the little ones out of here.”

“Well… Let me ask her.”

Brie took the general’s suggestion to Mel and she thought about it for less than a minute, then nodded. “The kids will be safer there. Can you, Paige and Nikki load them up?”

“Sure. But I hate to take them away from you.”

“They should go, he’s right. You can set up a nursery there, with Vanni. We’ll be fine here with Walt’s help.”

Mel watched from the first-aid station while the women carried the children to Preacher’s and Jack’s trucks with Walt’s help, moving car seats around and tucking them in. Into the back went a playpen, port-a-crib, infant seats and baby swing, diaper bags and paraphernalia. Little Davie and Emma, Christopher and Dana Marie. Then they pulled slowly out of town.

Mel hoped it would occur to Paige or Vanni to nurse little Emma; Emma needed the breast. She was young and vulnerable and Mel wouldn’t hesitate to nurse a friend’s baby at a time like this. Mel felt a tear run down her cheek as they went. She wiped at it impatiently. This was an emergency; they’d have to make do. Vanni, Brie, Nikki and Paige would keep the babies and Christopher all safe. That was the most important thing.

Then Jack will be home and we’ll go get them, she told herself.

The morning flew by with trucks full of firefighters passing through, stopping for first aid or food and water. They’d be driven out and another crew would pass through. Sometimes the firefighters were new and wearing clean gear, sometimes they were dirty, exhausted, parched and hungry men. Most of them were inmates, felons trained in firefighting with plenty of law enforcement on hand, backing up Cal Fire. Mel had often wondered how many of them tried to run away while on this duty. But then, this program would likely come to an end if many did.