Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(36)

“Does something about that worry you, because we can make do here a while longer…”

“Worry me? No.” He collected himself. “Surprises me, is all.” And he shuffled off to his office.

She followed him. “Well? You didn’t have an answer.”

He turned back toward her. “Can’t think of a better place for that infant than Lilly’s,” he said. “Lilly and Buck are good people. And they know what to do with a baby, that’s for sure.”

“You don’t need time to think about this?” she asked.

“I don’t,” he said. “I was hoping a family would turn up.” He peered at her over his glasses. “Seems like maybe you need some time to think about it.”

“No,” she said, somewhat tremulously. “If you’re okay, I’m okay.”

“Think it over, just the same. I’ll walk across the street and see if anyone’s willing to play cribbage. Then, if you’re of a mind, we’ll take her out to the Anderson ranch.”

“Okay,” she said. But she said it very quietly.



Jack was painfully, embarrassingly aware that Mel had only been in town three weeks, and he could think of little else. Fact was, from the moment he looked at her in the dim light of the bar that first night, he wanted to sit right down at that table with her and get to know her.

He saw her every day, and given their meals together and long conversations, he knew himself to be her closest friend at the moment. And yet there was much about herself she was concealing. She was open about having lost her parents young, her close relationship with her sister and sister’s family, her nursing career, the crazy and chaotic life at the hospital, but it was as though there was a block of time missing. Him, Jack thought. The one who devastated her and left her hurt and lonely. Jack would drive him away, given half a chance.

He wished he knew what it was that had hooked him so quickly, so thoroughly. It wasn’t just her beauty, though that was evident. True, there weren’t any pretty, single women around town, but he hadn’t been lonely. And Mel hadn’t been the only sexy woman he’d laid eyes on in the past few years. He was hardly a hermit; he’d been to lots of the other towns, the coastal towns, to night spots. There’d been Clear River.

But Mel had some aura that had him all worked up. That tight little body, full breasts, compact fanny, rosy lips, not to mention some real sexy brains—it was all he could do to keep from breathing heavy in her presence. When she had those moments when whatever plagued her was forgotten, and she smiled or laughed, her whole face brightened up. Her blue eyes danced. He’d already dreamed of her; felt her hands all over his body, felt her beneath him, felt himself inside of her, heard her soft moans of pleasure and bam! He awoke to find himself as alone as ever, bathed in sweat.

Jack was already turned on before Mel dropped Nick on his ass, but if he hadn’t been, that sure would have sealed the deal. She was a dynamo. Gorgeous, feminine little thing with one helluva punch. Whoa. Damn.

The vulnerability in her eyes warned him he’d better be very, very careful. One wrong move and she’d jump in that little BMW and shake the dust of Virgin River off the soles of her shoes, the town’s medical needs notwithstanding. He reminded himself constantly that this was one reason he hadn’t sprung the cabin on her yet. Walking away from her last week after Joy’s party had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He had wanted nothing so much as to crush her to him and say, it’s going to be all right—I can make it all right, all good. Give me a chance.

Doc and Preacher sat at a table in the bar, playing cribbage. Jack put a slice of Preacher’s apple pie on a plate, covered it with Saran wrap and left the bar to walk across the street. No cars or trucks at Doc’s except Doc’s truck and that little BMW parked on the side. All clear, he thought, his pulse picking up. He opened the front door and looked around; no one. He thought to go tap on the office door, but a sound from the kitchen led him there instead.

The baby in her little Plexiglas bed on wheels sat near the warm stove and Mel was at the table, her head down, resting on her folded arms. And she sobbed. He rushed to her; he put the pie on the table and was down on one knee at the side of her chair, all in one movement. “Mel,” he said.

She lifted her head, her cheeks chafed and pink. “Dammit,” she said through her tears. “You caught me.”

His hand was on her back. “What is it?” he asked gently. Now, he thought. Now she’ll tell me about it, let me help her through it.

“I’ve found a home for the baby. Someone came in and offered to take her and Doc endorses it.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Lilly Anderson,” she said, large tears spilling over. “Oh, Jack. I let it happen. I got attached.” And she leaned against his shoulder and wept.

Jack forgot everything. “Come here,” he said, pulling her out of the chair. He traded places with her and pulled her down on his lap. She encircled his neck with her arms, her face buried in his shoulder, crying, and he gently stroked her back. His lips were on her soft hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

“I let it happen,” she said into his shirt. “Stupid. I knew better. I even named her. What was I thinking?”

“You gave her affection,” he said. “You were so good to her. I’m sorry it hurts.” But he wasn’t sorry, because he had his arms around her and it felt as he knew it would, her little body, warm and solid, against his. She was light as a feather on his lap, her arms around his neck like ribbons, and the sweet, fragrant smell of her hair coiled around his brain and tightened, addling his thoughts.