Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(30)

Mel looked up at Doc and found him frowning. “What was that all about?” she asked him.

“Seems like she wanted to see what you look like. She tends to follow Jack around like a lovesick puppy.”

“He shouldn’t serve her.”

“He doesn’t,” Doc said. “Jack’s a generous guy, but not a foolish one. Giving Cheryl booze would be like throwing kerosene on a fire. Besides, she can’t afford Jack’s place. I think she gets some of that rotgut they keep out in the woods.”

“That’s going to kill her.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Can’t somebody help her?”

“She look to you like she wants help?”

“Has anyone tried? Has Jack—”

“Jack can’t do anything for her,” Doc said. “That would put an awful lot of useless ideas in her head.”

He turned around and went back into the house. Mel followed him and said, “Do you think it’s possible she gave birth?”

“Anything’s possible. But I doubt it.”

“What if we checked her? It would be obvious.”

Doc looked down at her and lifted one snowy brow. “Think I should call the sheriff? Get a warrant?” And he walked off toward the kitchen.

What an odd little town, Mel found herself thinking.



While the baby napped, Mel took a break and wandered down to the store. Connie poked her head out of the back and said, “Hey, Mel. Can I get you something?”

“I just thought I’d look at your magazines, Connie. I’m bored.”

“Help yourself. We’re watching our soap, if you want to come back here with us.”

“Thanks,” she said, going to the very small book rack. There were a few paperbacks and five magazines. Guns, trucks, fishing, hunting and Playboy. She picked up a paperback novel and the Playboy and went to the back where she’d seen Connie.

A parted curtain hung in the doorway to the back room. Inside, Connie and Joy sat in old canvas lawn chairs in front of the small desk, coffee cups in hand, their eyes focused on a small TV that sat on a shelf. The women were complete physical opposites—Connie being small and trim with short hair dyed fire-enginered, and Joy must be easily five-nine and two-fifty, very plain with her long, graying hair pulled back into a ponytail, her face round and cheerful. They were an odd pair and it was said they’d been best friends since they were kids. “Come on back,” Joy said. “Help yourself to coffee if you want.”

On the television a very pretty woman looked into the eyes of a very handsome man and said, “Brent, I never loved anyone but you! Ever!”

“Oh, she is such a liar!” Connie said.

“No, she’s not—she didn’t love any of them. She just screwed ’em all,” Joy said.

On the TV: “Belinda, the bab—”

“Brent, the baby is yours!”

“The baby is Donovan’s,” Joy told the TV.

Mel leaned a hip against the desk. “What is this?”

“Riverside Falls,” Connie said. “Brent and the slut Belinda.”

“This is what Lizzie is going to be doing if Connie can’t get her out of those slutty clothes.”

“I have a plan,” Connie said. “As she grows out of her clothes and I replace them, we’re going to get a more conservative wardrobe.”

Joy laughed loudly. “Connie, it looks like she already grew out of them!”

The camera pulled back and Mel saw that the couple on screen were in bed together, their naked bodies barely concealed by a sheet. “Whew,” she said. “Soaps have come a long way.”

“You ever watch any soaps, honey?” Connie asked.

“Not since college. We watched General Hospital.” Mel put down her magazine and book on the desk and helped herself to a cup of coffee. “We used to get our patients to keep an eye on it for us. I had one long-term care patient—an old guy—and I used to give him his bath at two every afternoon and we’d watch it together.”

“There is only one man left on this show that Belinda hasn’t done—and he’s seventy. The patriarch.” Connie sighed. “They’re going to have to bring in some new talent for Belinda.”

Back on TV, Belinda bit at Brent’s lip, then his chin, then slipped lower in the bed and disappeared under the sheet. All three women in the back room leaned toward the TV. The lump in the sheet that was Belinda’s head went lower and momentarily Brent threw back his head and let a delicious moan escape.

“My God,” Mel said.

Connie fanned her face.

“I think that’s her secret weapon,” Joy said. And the program cut to commercial.

Connie and Joy looked at each other, giggled and got up out of their chairs. “Well, not much has changed since yesterday. That baby’s gonna be in college before it gets out who the daddy is.”

“I’m not even sure it is Donovan’s. She was with Carter, too.”

“That was a long time ago—it couldn’t be his.”

“How long have you two been watching this soap?” Mel asked.

“Oh, God, fifteen years?” Connie answered by way of a question.

“At least.”