Temptation Ridge (Virgin River #6)(62)



Cameron laughed and shook his head. “How can they afford to do that?”

Mel grinned. “When the patients bring in produce as patient fees, it goes straight to Preacher’s kitchen where we eat it later. The people in town don’t just bring stuff when they’re sick—they bring what they can spare continually, sort of like keeping us on retainer. A bushel of apples, several quarts of berries, huge sack of tomatoes, bushel of green beans… Preacher bakes and cans and freezes and loves every second of it. A big patient fee could be as much as a half calf. Or a few months of cream. And besides, Jack has everything he needs, Cameron.” Then she got a little more serious. “The first night I landed in this town, I saw Jack as the owner of a bar and restaurant. It didn’t take me long to learn he’s so much more than that. He does a little of everything, from car and truck repair to building. He never goes for supplies without checking with a half-dozen little old ladies or postpartum mothers to see what they need. And if I’m delivering a baby—Jack is up all night, in case I need something. I hate that he hunts, but when he hunts, we enjoy some of the best venison dishes you can imagine. And most of the fish served in the bar, he and Preacher and maybe even Mike catch in the river. It all evens out.” She shrugged. “This is a very simple place, Cameron. Sometimes if feels more like a commune than a town. But Jack… Ask anyone— Jack is at the center of this town, taking care of the people here.”

He smiled. “I bet if I ask, they’ll say you are, too.”

“I do my best. The women—they’re my specialty.”

“Didn’t take you long to fall in love with the place.”

“It’s rewarding,” she said. “I took home a pretty nice paycheck from the hospital in L.A., and I had some very challenging work there, but L.A. is a damn expensive place to live. I’m not sure I was further ahead with that big salary. As long as the clinic can feed me and cover the cost of my gas, it doesn’t need to provide me with much else. And I feel a lot better about what I’m doing here. These people really need me.”

He just looked at her for a moment, silent. “You’ve found your niche,” he said.

“I have. I have everything.” Then she laughed. “Except a doctor. I could sure use a doctor. It’s a small town, but we need medical service.”

“I think maybe I envy you.”

“I’m not surprised.” She smiled. “It’s a different kind of life.”

“Yeah, I can only imagine.” He squeezed her arm. “Well. I should check in at the Booth house. Let them know I’m here. You having dinner at the bar tonight?”

“I’m there at five. Just for an hour or so. It’s waterfowl hunting now, so Jack stays late and I go home to put the kids to bed.”

“I’ll see you at five,” Cameron said. “And again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” she said, sticking out her hand. “He was a pain in the butt, but God, I miss him.”



Cameron went out to the Booth household, but found no one was home. He looked first in the stable, then drove out to the house under construction. There was a lot of activity around it, so he walked up the plank that led through the front door and found Paul in the center of the great room, hands on his hips, looking around the nearly finished room. “Hey,” Cameron said.

Paul turned. “Cam! What are you doing here?”

“I had a couple of days and really felt the need to express my condolences to Mel. I realize I didn’t give you any notice, so I don’t intend to hold you to that offer of fishing.”

Paul stuck out his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can snag a morning.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, plenty of time for us to go fishing. I have to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, pal. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m about to do something pretty crazy. And I can’t do that unless you’re real clear—this has nothing to do with Vanessa.”



The children were napping in the clinic, Shelby was at the bar getting a soda and Mel was sitting on the front-porch steps when Bruce brought the mail. “Any specimens for Valley Hospital today?” he asked her.

“Nope,” she said, leafing through the mail.

“Great. I get to knock off early. Have a nice day.”

Mel stood, pulled her sweater tighter around her and walked inside. The sun was out today, but it was getting darn cold. She found an envelope from Cameron Michaels and tore it open. Her first thought was that he was such a class act—it was probably a letter of condolence or a thank-you note. She pulled out a couple of pages, stapled together. At the top, in italics, it read: Résumé for Cameron Michaels, M.D., ABFM, ABP. Her mouth hung open.

She read through his credentials. He was board certified in family medicine and pediatrics with years of experience—a dream doctor. Her mouth hadn’t quite closed when she picked up the phone and dialed his office in Grants Pass. When he said hello, she said, “Have you lost your mind?”

He laughed. “Probably. But just so you know I’m not completely insane, I thought I’d give you a year. I’ll know in a few months if it’s working for me, so I won’t leave you high and dry. I’ve taken a leave from my practice.”

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