Temptation Ridge (Virgin River #6)(61)

“And found it perfect for you?” Cameron asked.

“Far from it,” she said. “The town was misrepresented, the pay miserable, the cabin that was to be my rent-free home was a falling-down hovel—but just as I was running for my life, a baby was abandoned on Doc’s porch and I stayed a while.” She shrugged. “I became attached in no time. Then I fell in love with Jack. Now I’m committed. Medicine here is a whole new scene from what I was used to in the city. It’s like taking care of family. These people are my friends. And of course, if Jack is here, I’m here.”

“But what’s it like doctoring here?” Cameron asked.

“We have to be inventive and flexible. Boy,” she said, laughing, “we could sure use a pediatrician, couldn’t we, Shelby?”

“Boy howdie, as Mel would say. The babies are flowing into this town.”

“I don’t like our chances of getting a new doctor, and I’ll be honest—I lose a lot of sleep over that. I don’t want to be their only resource if something big happens, like a bad MVA,” Mel said. “Sorry, Shelby,” she said. “That’s a motor vehicle accident.” Looking back at Cameron, she said, “Or some hunting accident. But this is no place for a doctor to prosper financially. A lot of our patient fees come from services and produce from ranches, farms and vineyards. More food than I could ever eat, less cash than it takes to get by. I’ve written a grant proposal to cover malpractice insurance. The county is covering mine—they see the merits of having a certified midwife around here. And if you can believe it, Doc was never covered. Never sued, never covered. He always figured if someone got pissed off and put him out of business, so be it.” She shrugged. “I’m hopeful that if a physician can be found, the county will step up. I’ve been contacting medical schools—offering a place for a brand-new family-practice resident to practice rural medicine—he or she could intern here under John Stone or June Hudson. If you know anyone…”

“I might,” he said. “I’ll talk it around.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when I lose Shelby.”

Cameron looked at the younger woman.

“I’m here temporarily,” Shelby said. “I cared for my mother who suffered from ALS for a long time and now, before I move on to my own nursing college, I’m staying with my Uncle Walt.”

“Walt Booth?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. I’m Vanni’s cousin.”

“From Bodega Bay,” he said. “Yeah, your name was mentioned.”

“No kidding? You know them?”

“I was introduced,” he said simply. “Nice people.”

“I can help Mel for a while longer, but I’ve been sending out my applications. Nursing is kind of a natural progression for me, given my years as a caregiver. It’s going to be hard,” she said. “I’ve been out of school and work for years.”

“But what you have done is extraordinary,” Mel said, grabbing her hand.

“Good luck with that,” Cam said. “So Mel—how are you getting by now? With the patients?”

“Right now, I send a lot of them to Grace Valley and sometimes either June Hudson or John Stone will spend a half day up here, taking patients,” Mel said.

“This is a helluva nice place to live,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous. But a person has to make a living. What are you doing here, besides offering condolences?”

“Aw, Paul and Vanni had a sick baby while they were in Grants Pass and Paul offered me a day on the river as payment for my services. Problem is, I didn’t tell them I was coming, so I’m not going to hold him to it. I thought I’d see how you’re doing and make a house call.”

“I heard about Mattie’s croup,” she said.

“Fortunately, he did well on antibiotics, snapped right out of it. Any chance I could get a tour of your clinic?” he asked.

“You bet. It’s a pretty functional little place,” Mel said with a touch of pride. She stood up. “Right this way, Doctor.” The first thing she did was open the refrigerator and show him that they kept as much blood and plasma on hand as food, something he seemed to get a kick out of. Shelby returned to her paperwork in the kitchen while Mel showed Cameron the exam room and the treatment room. In Doc’s old office there were some boxes stacked in the corner. “Personal items of Doc’s,” she said. “I’m sending that stuff back to his college library. Come on upstairs.”

She showed him the only hospital room in town, the roomy bathroom and Doc’s old bedroom, completely vacant and freshly painted. “Doc’s furniture was almost as old as he was,” she said. “I gave it away and will buy new. If we don’t get a doctor, it’ll make a decent place for me to sleep when we have a delivery here.”

“Nice little operation,” Cameron said. “But how do you make ends meet?”

“Oh, it’s not too hard for me. Jack has income—he’s retired military and the bar won’t make us rich, but it brings in money. I have savings and no longer draw a salary. The clinic is mine now, thanks to Doc’s generosity in his trust. It’s free and clear. The uninsured patients are almost always able to cover the cost of lab work, X-rays and drugs, and then we get a twenty-dollar bill here and there. Patients on subsistence—welfare or Medicaid—their fees are paid. People around here are very grateful and they do their best—there’s often cash in the Christmas card. The most important thing is we never lose money. And all the equipment is paid for. In fact, once Jack had the bar open, he gave Doc almost all his meals. Jack does that—the forest-fire fighters, the police, the game warden or rangers, Jack serves them for free when they’ve been working here. The sheriff’s deputy and his boys drop by for a gratis meal now and then. We have a highway patrolman who visits. Anyone who serves the needs of the town gets served by Jack and Preacher.”