Virgin River (Virgin River #1)(73)

“Thank you,” he returned. “And Joey, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Jack. You don’t have to compete with him, you know.”

He put an arm around her and walked her out onto the porch. “I can’t,” he said simply.

“You don’t have to,” she said again.

He gave her shoulders a final squeeze and watched as she walked across the street to where her car sat at Doc’s. She gave one last wave as she drove out of town.

Jack couldn’t help but spend way too much time trying to picture Mel’s life as it had been with Mark. He saw an upscale home and expensive cars. Diamonds as birthday gifts and country club memberships. Trips to Europe; to the Caribbean to unwind and relax from the high stress of city medicine. Dinner dances and charity events. The kind of lifestyle that even if Jack could fit into it, he wouldn’t want to.

The upscale life wasn’t alien to him—his sisters lived in that world very well. They and their husbands were educated, successful people; they had grappled with finding the best schools so their girls would be likewise. Donna, the oldest at forty-five, was a college professor, married to a professor. Jeannie, the next at forty-three, was a CPA married to a developer. Then there was Mary, thirty-seven, a commercial airline pilot married to a real estate broker—they were the country clubbers. His baby sister and the most bossy—and his favorite—was Brie, almost thirty, a county D.A. married to a police detective. He was the only one in the family who had gone into the military as an enlisted man—as a mere boy—educated only through high school. And found that what he had a gift for was physical challenge and military strategy.

He wondered if Joey was right, that Mel couldn’t possibly be happy here for long in this dinky little town full of ranchers and blue-collar types, without a five-star chef within three hundred miles. Maybe she was just too classy for this backwoods life. But then an image of the Melinda he’d fallen in love with would float into his mind—she was natural and unspoiled, tough and sassy, uninhibited and passionate, stubborn. Perhaps it was a premature worry—he’d hardly given her a chance. It was always possible she’d find things here to love.

He didn’t see her all that day. He never left the bar, just in case she came by for a sandwich or cup of coffee, but she didn’t. It wasn’t until almost six that she showed her face. As she walked in, he felt that sensation that had become so common for him lately—desire. One look at her in those tight jeans and he was in agony. It took willpower to keep himself from responding physically.

There were people present—the dinner crowd and about six fishermen from out of town—so she said hello to everyone she knew on her way to the bar. She jumped up on a stool and, smiling, said, “I wouldn’t mind a cold beer.”

“You got it.” He fixed her up a draft. Now this woman, looking like a mere girl really, asking for a beer and not a champagne cocktail, this did not fit the picture he’d had earlier of the country club set, the diamonds, the charity dinner dances. Still, seeing her in a fitted, strapless black dress—he could manage that. It made him smile.

“Something’s funny?” she asked.

“Just happy to see you, Mel. Going to have dinner tonight?”

“No, thanks. We were busier than I thought we’d be all morning, so I fixed Doc and I something to eat at around three. I’m not hungry. I’ll just enjoy this.”

The door opened and Doc Mullins came in. A couple of months ago he’d have sat at the other end of the bar, but no more. He was still as grouchy as he could manage, but he took the stool next to Mel and Jack poured him a short bourbon. “Dinner?” he asked the doctor.

“In a minute,” he answered.

The door opened again and in came Hope. She had finally discarded the rubber boots in favor of tennis shoes—just as muddy. She sat on Mel’s other side. “Oh, good, you’re not eating,” she said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. “Jack?” she asked, requesting her usual Jack Daniel’s.

“Jack coming up, neat,” he said, pouring.

Hope puffed and asked, “So, how’d your sister like your little town?”

“She had a good time, thanks. Though she expressed some concern about the state of my roots.”

“Get that old codger to give you a day off and go over to Garberville or Fortuna and get a do.”

“You have nothing but days off anymore,” Doc grumbled.

“That’s an interesting statement coming from someone who didn’t want any help around here,” Mel teased. Then to Hope she said, “You know big sisters. She just wanted to make sure I hadn’t gotten myself into anything that held the potential for disaster, and now that she’s convinced I’ll live, she can go back to her family with a clear conscience. What have you been doing with yourself, Hope?” Mel asked. “I haven’t seen much of you.”

“Just the garden, from morning till night. I plant and grow, the deer come in and eat it. I need to round up Jack’s marines and get ’em all out there to pee a border around the property.”

Mel sat back. “That works?”

“Hell, yeah. Better than anything.”

“Well, live and learn,” she said. Mel finished her beer. “I’m going home,” she stated flatly, getting off her stool.