Second Chance Pass (Virgin River #5)(82)

“Ah,” Mel said. “I’m glad to see you again. But we’ll have to meet under other circumstances from now on. We’re not going to keep doing this. Jack has strict orders not to knock me up again without permission.”

“Very smart,” Muriel agreed.



Shots were poured for the men, and Doc showed up right about then as if he’d whiffed the whiskey. John Stone abstained because he had another woman in early labor, but he accepted the cigar. The women stayed with Mel in the bedroom, but Muriel stepped out onto the porch with the men. They all turned to look at her with puzzled expressions on their faces as she joined their group.

“I heard there would be a drink and a cigar,” she said with a shrug. “Isn’t that right?”

They all stared at her dumbly except Walt—he was somehow not at all surprised by this. “I can take care of that,” Walt said. He went into the house to pour her a drink and brought it back to her. By the time he’d returned, Mike Valenzuela had snipped the end of a big ugly cigar for her. She accepted her drink and waited her turn for the lighter. Once she had her cigar going, she lifted her glass. “To you, Jack, and to your amazing wife, and to the newest Sheridan. Congratulations.”



It was almost midnight when John Stone reached into his pocket and pulled out his pager. “I’ve got another one coming. They come in batches,” he said, jogging off to the ambulance. “Full moon,” he yelled over his shoulder. And with lights flashing on top of the Grace Valley ambulance, John was gone.

A few minutes later the birthing party packed up, leaving the Sheridans to themselves. When Walt and Muriel got back to his house he turned to look at her before opening the car door. “I’d just like to say one thing, Muriel. I thought it was going to be a real challenge, the way you eat celery and yogurt and little bitty slices of cheese, but damned if you aren’t a good time.”

She laughed at him. “Well, thank you, Walt. You’re not that dull, yourself. Your daughter’s going to have a lot of questions for you.”

He grinned at her. “She can ask all she wants. I don’t really have too much to say.”

“Walt, there isn’t much to say,” she reminded him.

“Yeah. Not yet, there isn’t.”





Thirteen




When Brie pulled up to Jack’s the early morning after the birth, she found her brother and nephew out on the porch. David was having his Cheerios, Jack was having his coffee. “Morning,” she said, getting out of the car. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I can’t sleep within twenty-four hours of a baby. Mel’s out like a light. And David wants her, of course. That’s why we’re out here.”

“Well, I’m here to help you out,” Brie said. She planned to spend at least the morning with her brother and sister-in-law, if not the whole day. She would take care of David and help around the house. “When I left last night there was a lot of laundry waiting.”

“Mostly done. But by this afternoon, I’m going to need a nap.”

She laughed. “I’ll cover for you,” she said. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Okay. We’re about due another feeding. Can you handle Davie? Morning bath and stuff?”

“You bet,” she said.

Jack took his coffee cup with him back to the bedroom and pulled the rocker next to the bed.

Mel looked a little pale to him. The second baby was supposed to be easier and she sure came faster, but this one had been hard on her. Mel was weak and shaky when she roused to nurse during the night. In the cradle beside the bed, Emma started to fuss. She was going to need to be fed, but his wife wasn’t stirring yet. He wanted to pick up the baby, but it was better if Mel heard her—that snuffling from the baby helped with the breast milk. It was just amazing to him the way a woman’s body responded to all this, the way something like the baby’s cry could cause the milk to let down and drip like a faucet.

He reached out a hand to touch his wife’s brow and found her clammy. “Mel,” he said softly. Maybe there were too many blankets on her.

Emma made her demands known a little louder, but Mel still didn’t stir. “Mel,” he said more loudly, giving her shoulder a little shake. She didn’t wake. “Mel,” he said. Nothing.

Jack felt something squeeze his heart and hit his gut like a punch. He pulled back the covers and under his wife was a large, spreading pool of blood.

“Brie!” he screamed. “God! Brie!”

He picked up the phone and called John at home. Before the phone rang through Brie was in the doorway with David on her hip. She saw the blood, her sister-in-law motionless, and she ran to put David into the safety of his crib.

Susan Stone answered the phone.

“Susan, Mel’s hemorrhaging! She’s unconscious!”

“Oh, Jesus. Start massaging her uterus, like you saw John doing after delivery. Press down from the top, cup your other hand just above the pubic bone to support the uterus. Stay with me now.” Then without putting down the phone, he heard her pick up the other line and in just seconds she was asking for emergency airlift transport. “Jack,” she said, “give me your coordinates.”

A man who’d built his own house knew every detail, and he rattled off his latitude and longitude. Phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, he said, “Help me, Susan! Blood’s coming! What can I do?”