Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(124)

The guy laughed. “Getting the hell out of here. Listen, I’ll leave you by the county road where you’ll get picked up. I’ll leave you water, but I can’t go back that way. I’m all done there.”

“I’ve heard that before….”

“Well, this time it’s the real deal. I’m so outta here. You’ll be all right. No one’s going to drive by a firefighter, even though you could just as easily be an inmate on the run. Especially the way you put yourself in the middle of the road—nice touch.”

They drove in silence awhile; Jack rehydrated himself and Shady Brady just drove at a dangerously high speed on the deserted road. It was only about fifteen minutes before he came to an intersection with the county road; it would have taken Jack most of the day to get this far on his ankle—if he didn’t collapse or drop dead first.

“There will be cars along this road, don’t worry.” He reached behind him and grabbed a couple of bottled waters. “Stay off the ankle, go slow, ration the water—”

“I’ve been in the desert,” Jack said irritably.

“Yeah, I know. Just wait for a ride. I have to go, man. That’s all there is to it.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Why can’t you be just a hundred percent good or a hundred percent bad? Why do you have to keep me all confused all the time?”

He laughed. “My specialty—confusion. Listen—that fire was set. I can’t prove it, but all I’m lacking are the facts. People died. Far as I’m concerned, death is against the rules.”

“I don’t know what you are, man,” Jack said. “Half the time I see you, you really piss me off. The other half, you come through. And you’re a marine—I saw the devil dog on your arm. But there are shitty marines out there, so I didn’t let that influence me…”

“Just get out,” he said. “Stay off the leg as much as possible, I guarantee a ride will come along. Since we won’t see each other again, it would be better for me if you didn’t talk it around that I picked you up. I’d really like to go up in a puff of smoke right now. So to speak.”

“I should tell the police what you said, about it being set…”

“You know what? When they find the source of that fire, there will be a body. That body had nothing to do with me. You do what you have to do—but if you gossip a lot about this free ride, like I was there, and get some local growers looking for me, I’m going to die. And like I said, I consider that against the rules.”

Jack grinned. Okay—here was a guy who was an illegal grower, but couldn’t seem to resist saving lives like crazy, and didn’t mind if the police heard what he’d been up to, but didn’t want the other growers in the area to catch wind… He must be in deep kimshie with some growers. Now, what kind of guy would he have to be to fear the growers more than the cops? “No reason I have to say anything, pal. Appreciate the ride. Slow down a little, huh? You’re frickin’ dangerous.”

“I’m in a hurry.”

“Yeah. You wanna get there? Thanks for the ride. Try to stay out of trouble.”

Once the truck door was closed, he peeled out, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.



The drizzle continued, steaming up the ground; it was still so hot. The hottest summer ever, made hotter by the burning forest.

Mel wouldn’t leave the porch. Doc came to the bar, touched her forehead and asked her if she wouldn’t lie down for just a few minutes. “No,” she said. “I’m waiting for Jack.”

“The boys said Search and Rescue are combing the area and they’re getting ready to leave again, to look. We can wake you the second something is found.”

“Doc, it’s all right. I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.”

Muriel tried to press a brandy into her hand, but she shook her head. She wanted to be sure she could feel everything, because she could still feel him. He might as well have his arms around her. And then she remembered her very first night in Virgin River, the horrible cabin, the torrential rain, and the brandy from Jack’s bar that warmed her. She had snapped at him that she didn’t find him amusing, she’d had a terrible day. And he had only grinned and said, “Good thing I have the cork out of the Remy, then.”

And later, when he’d held her as she cried over her dead husband. Then he undressed her, dried her off, gave her that brandy. She’d had a huge emotional meltdown. If you’re going to go down, go down big. You should be proud.

His pride in her was the greatest gift. He told her often he was proud of the care she gave, proud of her commitment to helping wherever help was needed. When a man like Jack is proud of you, it means everything. She felt herself smiling.

The volume on the TV in the bar was turned up. She’d never heard it so loud. She knew Jack’s boys weren’t resting, but glued to the news, hoping to catch something about the lost firefighters. They took turns on the porch with her, afraid to leave her alone, because they thought she was losing it. Quietly and stoically, but losing it. “I’m fine,” she told them. “Really, I’m fine.”

Inside, the men were gearing up to leave again, stuffing down sandwiches for fuel, guzzling water to rehydrate. Mel accepted water, had her baby brought to her to nurse, held her son for a bottle, but she was determined. She stayed on the porch. She never once asked if there was any news of Jack.