Whispering Rock (15 page)

“That’s because we are,” Jack said. “And it’s good. It’s very, very good.”

Preacher came back, lifted his cigar and took a pull. “I’m not hunting tomorrow,” he said. “I’m going to have to stay here.”

“Why?”

“It’s ovulation day,” he said with a straight face.

“It’s what?” three men asked in unison.

“It’s frickin’ ovulation day, jag-off. We’re trying to make a baby and if I miss ovulation day, who knows how long I’ll have to wait. I don’t
feel
like waiting. I’ve
been
waiting.”

His explanation was met with completely nonplussed silence—no one at the table knew about this quest, including Jack. And after a moment of stunned silence, laughter erupted that was so loud and wild, the men were nearly falling off their chairs.

When the group got a little under control, Preacher asked, “Is there something funny about ovulation day? Because I don’t think it’s funny.”

“Nah, it’s not funny, Preach,” Joe said. “It’s cute, that’s what it is.”

“But really, Preach, you should hunt and leave me home—I’d probably make a better-looking baby than you, anyway,” Zeke said.

“You’ve made enough frickin’ babies, jag-off,” Preacher said. “Your wife sent you up here to hunt so she can catch a break. Whose deal is it anyway?”

While they dealt a few more hands, Jack noticed that Paul didn’t seem to be laughing as much as the others, but he was
drinking more. Paul folded his hand, left the game, poured himself a shot from the bottle on the bar and sat up on a stool. Jack had them deal him out and went behind the bar. Paul turned pinkened, watery eyes toward him. “Oh, boy,” Jack said. “You’re going to hate yourself.”

“Don’t I know it,” he agreed with a slight slur, drinking another shot nonetheless.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“I’m thinking it has something to do with Vanessa,” Jack said.

“Matt’s my best friend. That would be wrong.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. For me, anyway.” He put his empty glass on the bar.

Jack was sure Paul had already had too much, but he poured. “Okay, now I’m just taking advantage of you,” Jack said. “Because I’m curious. She said you and Matt were together the night you met.”

“Yeah. I should’ve stopped going out with him years ago. I spotted her first.”

Jack kind of lifted his brows. “How’d he get her, then?”

Paul threw back his drink. “I think the son of a bitch said dibs.” And then he put his head down on the bar and passed out.

So that’s how it went. Because if Matt was the first one to get to her, talk to her, and if she was impressed enough to go out with him, a Marine doesn’t mess with a brother’s woman. Not even Valenzuela would do that. That was a line even he had never crossed—not his Mexican brothers and not his Marine brothers. Because he liked living….

Whoa, damn, Jack thought. And now she’s married, pregnant and Paul is still miserably drawn to her. That bites.

“I’m going home,” he said to the boys. “Back here at four. Someone has to put Haggerty to bed.” He shrugged into his jacket. “Try not to burn the place down, huh?”

M
el had asked Brie to help with a pet project she’d been working on since David was born. While Brie was happy to help Mel in anything she asked, she was a bit surprised by how much she enjoyed this particular project.

While Mel had been at home with her newborn, she’d had time to go online on her laptop, plus she could make phone calls while he slept. The women in her town were mostly uninsured. They would pay whatever they could afford for medical care, often in goods and services. Some of the ranchers and farmers had insurance to cover catastrophic illness or accident, but that left nothing for the cost of well visits, like pap smears and mammograms. Mel had been able to step up the annual pap smears by offering to charge only for the lab costs, and by doing a little bit of hounding. But when it came to mammograms, which she believed her patients over the age of forty should have every year, most of her women were making do on breast self-exam. She had ninety-two women over the age of eighteen in town, and forty-eight of them were over forty. At least forty of those women were not getting annual mammograms.

She had tracked down a mobile unit that was operated by a foundation—and with the help of Dr. June Hudson in Grace Valley, they were trying to put together a visit from this unit to their towns. They could hold a mammogram event day, turn it into a party and get everyone x-rayed. “We can get them to come on the cheap, but we’ll still have to come up with some money—probably more than most of my patients can afford,” Mel had said.

June had had a perfect idea for subsidizing the cost. The fall festival in Grace Valley was coming up soon—the second weekend in October. They planned to set up a booth and sell homespun small-town items, from needlework to baked goods. There were lots of city folks who flocked to the festival looking for some of that small-town mystique. Mel’s mission was to go around Virgin River, from farm to ranch to neighbors in town, requesting donated items they could sell at the mammogram booth.

Recruiting Brie was not only a great help, but fun for Mel to introduce her sister-in-law. On the days the Marines were off hunting, Mel and Brie drove the back roads of Virgin River, visiting all the women Mel knew—those who had attended her baby shower and parties at the bar, women who had been patients over the past year. Brie was meeting many of them for the first time and was instantly charmed by their welcoming natures, the way they drew her in as if she’d been around for years. Every stop they made involved at least a cup of coffee, usually cookies or thin slices of cake, so that by the time the day was drawing to a close, they were too stuffed to even think about dinner. And of course David was with them all day long, which amounted to a lot of cuddling all over town. Snuggling and sugar, since country women couldn’t stand it if they couldn’t put a cookie in his fat little hand.

The Virgin River women were fantastic—little surprise. They promised everything from pies to quilts—stock that would be picked up the day before the festival or brought to Grace Valley by the women themselves.

When they got back to town the hunters had returned and Mel was delighted to see no evidence of murdered wildlife in the truck beds or tied to roofs. But her elation was short-lived, because once inside the bar she learned that they had bagged two bucks, four-by-fours, both of which had already been taken to the meat processor to be butchered. “Oh,” she whined emotionally. “Who did it?”

Jack looked at his feet. But he made an attempt. “I think Ricky did it.”

Mel met Rick’s eyes and the boy put up two hands, palms toward her. It wasn’t him. Mel leaned against her husband and, unbelievably, started to cry. Jack shook his head, put an arm around her and led her away from the gathering, back toward the kitchen. As he did so, David was bouncing up and down on Mel’s hip, waving his arms wildly and reaching for his dad. “Melinda,” Jack said. “You knew we were going hunting. We didn’t torture the deer. We’re going to have venison.”

“I hate it,” she sniveled.

“I know you hate it, but it’s not a cruel thing. It’s probably more humane than the way cattle are slaughtered.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better about this.”

“Jesus, I wouldn’t dare,” he said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I’m weepy.”

“No shit. Here, let me have him. He’s out of his mind.”

“Sugar,” she said. “I should go nurse him.”

“He’s going to be riding his bike up to the breast before long.”

“He doesn’t want to give it up.”

“Understandable. But you’re worn out. Maybe you should go home and go to bed.”

“I don’t sleep till he sleeps. And he isn’t going to sleep until he detoxes.”

“All right,” Jack said, taking his son. “Go cry or wash your face or nap or something. I’ll hang on to the wild one until he calms down a little.” He kissed her forehead. “This really isn’t like you. Not even over deer.”

“By the way, you smell really bad,” she said.

“Thank you, my love. You smell really good. I’ll wash this off before I smell the rest of you, how’s that?”

She let go of her son and went to the bathroom while Jack took David back to the gathering.

“Is she all right?” Brie asked.

“She’ll be fine. She loves the deer.”

“Want me to take him?”

“Nah, he’s fine. He needs to work off your afternoon. Let me guess—you stopped at every farm and ranch in Virgin River and he’s had fifty cookies.”

“Maybe not fifty…”

He looked at his son’s face. His eyes were wild, his smile bright and drooly, his arms flapping. “Someone should have been in charge,” he said. “Have a beer, Brie. In fact, we should probably give this one a beer—he’s electric. Jeez.”

Just as he made that suggestion, Mike brought Brie a beer and when she took it, he draped an arm around her shoulders with familiarity. There was really no need for Mike to talk about her with him, Jack thought. He was working on celebrating her, as he had been instructed to do. But whatever was going on between Mike and Brie, it was putting a light in both their eyes. He was trying to relax about that.

“So—you make that baby today?” someone yelled at Preacher.

“I believe I did,” he said, sticking his chest out.

Paige brought a big platter of wings out to the bar and said, “John, shut up.”

“Well, I believe I did. Don’t you?”

She looked up at him, shook her head in disgust and said, “You certainly did your best,” and turned to walk back into the kitchen.

Mike pulled Brie aside and said, “You’re the only woman on the premises who’s not just a little pissed off at her guy. Wanna run away with me right now? Before I do something stupid?”

She grinned at him. “You think you’re my guy, huh?”

“Well, that’s what I’m hoping….”

A total of three deer were bagged, but no bear. The Marines left Virgin River, Ricky went back into active duty and the next weekend brought the Grace Valley fall festival. A sign was posted on the bar door—Closed. And below it a map, giving directions to Grace Valley.

Trucks, cars and SUVs were loaded with items for the mammogram booth. Mel, Brie and Jack left early with the baby and a truck packed with donations. They met Paige, Preacher and Christopher there to set up. Through the day, women from Virgin River arrived with even more wares to put out and everyone took their turn at working the booth—and items were disappearing like crazy. Mel didn’t have to sit there the entire day, but she stayed close to keep an eye on their growing funds.

The day was filled with visiting old friends and meeting new.

By the time darkness was falling and the booths were mostly shut down, Mel was growing so tired she thought her very bones ached. They had absolutely nothing left to sell on Sunday. “I’ll keep the banner and a donation jar out here tomorrow,” June said. “Even if we get just a few dollars more, I’m sure we’re close to what we need to bring the mammo RV out here.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Mel asked. “I’m so shot.”

“I have to be here anyway—we keep the clinic staffed during the fair. It won’t be any trouble.”

When the sun went down, the band set up behind the café and there was dancing and fireworks. The raffles were called out, and someone had rented a dunking booth that seemed to keep everyone in Grace Valley entertained as their local hotshots took their turns on the seat.

While Mel held David and watched the dancing, Jack came to her, slipped his arms around her and gave her a fairly decent twirl around the asphalt, baby and all. “Who would take you for a dancer,” she said.

“That was barely dancing, but you’re a good sport. You’re exhausted,” he whispered. “As soon as you’re ready, we’re heading home.”

“It was a long day. Maybe we should find Brie.”

“I found her,” he said. “I’m trying to celebrate her….”

Mel followed his gaze and saw that on the other side of the asphalt dance floor, she was twirling around with Mike. “When did he show up?” she asked her husband.

“Just a little while ago. He stayed in Virgin River most of the day, looking after the town while so many people were here. I think he might have come for one reason only.”

“That could work to our advantage,” Mel said. “He might give her a ride home.”

“I’ll give her a few minutes, and ask,” Jack said.

On the other side of the asphalt, Mike held Brie closer than necessary for a little country dancing, moving her around with more skill than she showed, making her laugh. And then to his pleasure, the pace of the music slowed and so did they. He tried not to, but he was helpless and lowered his face to her neck, taking in the intoxicating fragrance of her soft hair. “Ah,
mija,
” he said against her neck. He kissed her cheek, her lips. She put her palms against his cheeks and pulled him closer, opening her mouth under his, sending him reeling with desire.

“Mike,” she said softly. “I’m going home tomorrow.”

He pulled back, stunned. He stared at her, a million questions in his eyes. “Were you going to say goodbye?” he asked.

“I am saying goodbye,” she answered. “I have to spend some time with my family, and Mel and Jack need some family time—without a visitor.”

“Will you be back?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m sure I will, eventually.” She shrugged. “I don’t know yet where I want to be. Or what I want to do.”

“I had tricked myself into thinking it might be here,” he said. “It was nothing you did or said, my love, just crazy hope. Is it all right that I call you while you’re there? Maybe visit once or twice?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. Hardly a day has gone by that we haven’t talked.”

He touched her hair. “You’ve gained such beautiful strength while you’ve been here. Your laugh is a little wilder, a little more alive. Your cheeks are flushed and charged with good health.”

“A lot of that has been you. Your kisses. Your tenderness. I’ll miss that.”

“You know it will be right here, whenever you like. Before very long, I hope. In the meantime, if you want me to come to you, all you have to do is tell me.”

Jack, holding his son in his arms, interrupted them. “I’m going to take Mel home. Do you want to come later?” he asked his sister.

“No,” she said, pulling out of Mike’s arms. “I’ll come with you. I’ll be right there.” As Jack walked away from her, she leaned forward and, up on her toes, kissed Mike’s cheek. He held her waist for a long moment, his eyes closing. But then she pulled out of his embrace and said, “I’ll miss you,” and turned away from him to follow her brother.

“Not nearly as much as I’ll miss you,” he whispered to her departing back.

Jack woke a few mornings later to the sound of David’s fussing, but instead of hearing his wife’s usual cooing and cajoling as she took care of his early-morning needs, he heard a very different sound. A very unpleasant sound. Retching. He sat up, found his boxers on the floor and shrugged into them. He went to his son’s room and lifted him out of the crib. “Morning, pardner,” he said to his boy, hefting him onto the changing table to get off that all-night diaper. “Whew,” he said as he removed it. “That’s gotta be ten pounds of pee. I don’t know how you do it.” He gave David’s bottom a wipe, diapered him and carried him to the bathroom doorway.

Mel was kneeling in front of the toilet holding her hair back with one hand.

With David on his hip, Jack wet a washcloth with the other hand, squeezing it out. He handed it to her. “Come on, Melinda. You can’t avoid it forever. We both know you’re pregnant.”

“Ugh,” she said, accepting the cool, wet cloth. She pressed it to her face, her brow, her neck. She didn’t have any more to say.

But Jack knew. There had been tears, exhaustion, nausea. She turned watering eyes up to him. He shrugged and said, “You eased up on the breast-feeding, popped an egg and I nailed it.”

Her eyes narrowed as if to say she did not appreciate the explanation. He held out a hand to bring her to her feet. “You have to wean David,” he said. “Your body can’t completely nourish two children. You’ll get weak. You’re already exhausted.”

“I don’t want to be pregnant right now,” she said. “I’m barely over being pregnant.”

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t. Because you haven’t ever been pregnant.”

He thought this would probably be a bad time to tell her that he did so understand, since he had lived with a pregnant person and listened very attentively to every complaint. “We should go see John right away, so you can find out how pregnant.”

“How long have you suspected?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. A few weeks. It was a little tougher this time….”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Well, yeah. Since you haven’t had a period since the first time I laid a hand on you. God, for a supposedly sterile woman, you certainly are fertile.” Then he grinned, fully aware it would have got him smacked if he hadn’t been holding the baby.

She whirled away from him and went to sit on their bed. She put her face in her hands and began to cry. Well, he’d been
expecting exactly this. There’d been a lot of crying lately and he knew she was going to be mighty pissed off. He sat down beside her, put an arm around her and pulled her close. David patted her head. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I’m not delivering this one. I want that understood.”