Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(32)

Friday night, big night in Virgin River. There were more than the usual number of cars parked around the bar, though the people Mel knew best would have walked over. Mel had said to Doc, “There’s a potluck for Joy’s birthday at Jack’s tonight. I assume you’re going over. Maybe later, if you could spell me for a half hour, I can just drop in and wish her a happy birthday.”

Doc scoffed at that idea. All he wanted was to go collect his one whiskey of the day, have a bite to eat and turn in. So Mel fed and settled the baby while he was across the street. She fluffed her hair and put on a little lipstick, ready for what she expected to be a fairly dull evening, but an evening with a few friendly faces nonetheless. It was seven-thirty before Chloe slept and she was able to leave. “I won’t be long,” she told Doc.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Dance till dawn for all I care.”

“Will you call me if you need me?” she asked Doc.

“Hardly ever have a party in this town,” he said. “You should take advantage of it. I know how to change and feed. Been doing it a lot longer than you.”

When she walked in, she found the place nearly full of people. The jukebox, which was hardly ever playing, provided background music. Country. Jack and Preacher were behind the bar, Ricky was busy bussing tables. She looked around until she found Joy.

“Sorry to be showing up so late, Joy. The baby didn’t really want to settle down tonight.” She plucked her sweater away from herself and gave a little sniff. “I think I might smell like cheese.”

“You’re fine—and there’s still plenty of food left so grab yourself a plate.”

A few tables had been pushed together to line a wall and upon them, dish after casserole dish of delicious-looking food. Right in the center was a sheet cake practically covered with candles. After she’d put some food on her plate, people started wandering over to say hello and chat. She greeted Fish Bristol, noted fisherman in these parts, and his wife Carrie. Harv, who was found in the bar almost every morning, was a lineman for the telephone company, but before getting out on the road he had his breakfast at Jack’s. “My wife can’t be bothered to get out of bed just to cook breakfast,” he said with a laugh. She noticed that Liz was tucked away in the corner, looking miserably bored, her long, shapely legs crossed, her short skirt just barely covering her privates. Mel gave her a wave, coaxing a very small smile out of Liz. Mel was introduced to a sheep rancher and his wife, Buck and Lilly Anderson—Buck, tall and skinny and balding and Lilly, short and round and rosy cheeked. “Any news on that baby?” Lilly asked.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Is she a good baby?”

“Oh, God, she’s perfect. An angel.”

“And no one’s asked if they can take her? Adopt her?”

“I haven’t even heard from social services yet,” Mel said.

Connie brought a friend over to introduce. “Mel, this is Jo Fitch. She and her husband live on the end of the street—the biggest house there.”

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Jo said. “No one expected such a young, pretty girl. We—”

Before Jo could finish she was joined by a man who slipped an arm about Jo’s waist and, while swirling a drink in his glass, boldly looked Mel up and down and said, “Well, well, well…so this is our little nurse? Ohhh, nurse, I’m not feeling so good!” And then he treated himself to a great big laugh.

“My husband, Nick,” Jo said. If Mel wasn’t mistaken, she said it somewhat nervously.

“How do you do,” Mel said politely, deciding that he’d had a bit too much to drink. She turned to Connie and said, “Everything is so delicious.”

“So, nurse Melinda—how do you like our little town?” he asked her.

“Please, just call me Mel,” she said. “It’s great. You’re very lucky.”

“Yep,” he said, looking her over again. “We really got lucky. Where do I sign up for an examination?” And he laughed at himself some more.

It came back to her then—Jo Ellen and that husband of hers. This was the guy. He’d been slapped down by more than one woman, Hope had said. He couldn’t possibly be more obvious. “Gosh, excuse me just a second, I’ll be right back. I need something to drink.”

He grabbed her arm and said, “Let me—”

She shook him off firmly, smiling all the while. “No, no. You wait right here,” and she scooted away as fast as she could. On her way to the bar she stopped to say hello to Doug and Sue Carpenter, frequent visitors at Jack’s. She met the elder Fishburns—Polly’s mother and father-in-law. When she got to the bar and hopped up on a stool in front of Jack, setting her plate down, she didn’t have his attention right away. He was looking into the crowded room, frowning.

Finally he looked at her. “Could I have a beer?” she asked him.

“Sure,” he said.

“You don’t look too happy,” she observed.

His expression relaxed. “Just keeping an eye on things,” he said. “Having fun?”

“Hmm,” she nodded, taking a sip. “Have you eaten this stuff? It’s almost as good as Preacher’s. These country women can cook!”