Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(122)

“No,” Preacher said. “No. He made it out, we just can’t find him. We’ll just keep looking. We’ll go back to where we saw him last, as close as we can safely get, set up a perimeter, look for a trail. We keep looking. That clear?”

It was quiet for a moment until someone said, “Clear, Preach. That’s what we’ll do.”



By five o’clock, the firefighters were moving out of Virgin River, but the men had not returned. The acrid smell of smoke was dissipating, finally moving in the other direction. By six o’clock the town had grown eerily quiet and by seven, clouds began to roll in from the coast.

Paige, Brie and Nikki brought the children back to town and Mel was at long last able to nurse Emma and cuddle David for a while. She settled them into playpens and makeshift beds in Paige’s quarters. Walt and Muriel continued to work the kitchen and bar, keeping an eye on the TV for local news updates, convinced that the men would return soon, hungry. By ten o’clock, still no word from their men, Mel saw the first few drops of rain fall on the dusty street outside the bar. She leaned out of the porch with her palm up and smiled as it grew wet. She stayed on the porch and watched, the smell of rain like the answer to a prayer.

She sat in one of the Adirondack chairs on Jack’s porch and remembered the early days, before she married Jack, before the babies came. Back when she was alone and sure she’d never have love in her life again. Jack, so large and powerful, could have swept her up in his strong arms and devoured her, but he’d been patient, so gentle. He’d waited for her to say it was time, that she was ready to feel something that didn’t hurt. And then his hands on her, his lips, had drawn from her the most amazing response she’d ever felt. A love so sure, so dependable, so constant. Jack didn’t do anything halfway. He’d been a carefree bachelor, a lover of many women, until Mel. And then he belonged only to her. A committed partner.

You should never be afraid of anything while you’re my wife. It’s my job to make sure you’re never afraid.

I’m a little afraid right now, Jack, she thought.

At midnight, she stuck her head into the bar and found Muriel slumped in a chair with her head on the table while Walt still stood behind the bar, watching the news on the new TV. Ready. Waiting. “Go lie down somewhere, Mel,” he said. “I’ll call you the second they come back.”

“Have you heard anything on the news?” she asked.

“They’re saying the fire’s contained. And now, with the rain, they should be on top of it before long.”

“Then why aren’t they back?” she asked.

“Maybe they’re still needed for something,” he said. “Maybe cleanup or something. Go. Sleep.”

Jack never slept while she worked, just in case she needed him—which she sometimes had. She shook her head. “I won’t sleep until I have my man back,” she said. “He’s on his way.” Inside, she could feel each step he took toward her, though her heart was beating suspiciously fast. But she was sure. He was on his way. Maybe he was out there looking for someone…

She remembered the first time she’d met these remarkable men, these marines who would never abandon each other. She fell instantly under their collective spell—their humor, camaraderie, pure zest for life, these men who loved their women and the life they could bring forth. They were fun and lusty, brave and loyal. Jack had proudly sent Rick off to become one of them.

Jack had fathered Rick in every way he could, with as much devotion and strength as he would give the fruit of his own loins. She remembered how he had held the boy against the grief of losing his own child, his heart breaking into pieces. Her man, he had so much love inside him, it was amazing his chest didn’t explode.

I’ll never let you go, Mel. I want you to trust me, you know you’re safe with me.

“I trust you,” she said aloud, though there was no one to hear. “I love you. I trust you. And I know you—you’ll never give up.”

He had saved her life when it was bleeding out of her after Emma’s birth. She was only semiconscious, but she heard his desperate, pleading words. You’re my life! Don’t do this, Mel. Stay with me. Don’t you leave me!

“Don’t you leave me,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare!”

As if you could get rid of me now.

Dawn found her still sitting on the porch, alert. She had spent a very long night thinking about her husband. He had so many faces; a fierce and dangerous expression for an enemy, a threat. A soft and tender expression when he turned his eyes to her. A sweet pride when he held their children. A joyful gleam when he was with his friends.

She remembered when he had first talked her into those stolen kisses, deep and meaningful and passionate. It had been hard to resist him, his allure was so penetrating. And how fortuitous, because that same desire had given her the children—she just couldn’t say no to Jack. His love was blinding, it was so bold.

Finally, finally, a truck pulled into town, a farmer’s truck. In the back sat their men, dirty and exhausted. She stood on the porch and watched as one by one, they crumbled out of the truck. Mike came up the porch steps. The black ash on his face was split by damp tracks of tears.

“Where’s Jack?” she asked.

“Mel,” he said. “We can’t find him, Mel. We looked all night.”