Virgin River (33 page)

“Mel…”

“When I told Jack I was pregnant, after promising him I had the birth control taken care of, he should have said, ‘I’m outta here, babe.’ But you know what he said? He said, ‘I have to have you and the baby in my life, and if you can’t stay here, I’ll go anywhere.’” She sniffed a little and a tear rolled down her cheek. “When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is check to see if there are deer in the yard. Then I wonder what Preacher’s in the mood to fix for dinner. Jack’s usually
already gone back to town—he likes splitting logs in the early morning—half the town wakes up to the sound of his ax striking wood. I see him five or ten times through the day and he always looks at me like we’ve been apart for a year. If I have a patient in labor, he stays up all night, just in case I need something. And when there are no patients at night, when he holds me before I fall asleep, bad TV reception is the last thing on my mind.

“Am I staying here? I came here because I believed I’d lost everything that mattered, and ended up finding everything I’ve ever wanted in the world. Yeah, Joey. I’m staying. Jack’s here. Besides, I belong here now. I belong to them. They belong to me.”

Right after a light breakfast, she headed for Doc’s. She supposed it was in order to tell him right away, but when she walked into the house, she was greeted by quiet. Good, she thought. No patients yet. She went to Doc’s office and tapped lightly on the door, then pushed it open. He was sitting in the chair at his desk, leaning back, his eyes closed. Hmm. Doesn’t sleep in daylight, huh? She stood over him. It was good to see Doc docile for once.

Mel was about to leave and wait for a better time, but something made her take a closer look at Doc. His eyes were pinched closed, his face in a grimace and his coloring wasn’t right. He was gray. She reached down and squeezed his wrist with the forefingers of one hand. His pulse was racing. Mel felt Doc’s brow and found his skin clammy. His eyes opened into slits. “What is it?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he said. “Heartburn.”

Heartburn does not make your pulse race and your skin clammy, she thought. She ran for the stethoscope and blood pressure cuff in the exam room, returning to him. “You going to tell me what it is—or make me guess?”

“I told you… Nothing. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

She took his blood pressure, though she had to struggle with him for cooperation. “Did you have breakfast?” she asked him.

“A while ago.”

“What did you have? Bacon and eggs? Sausage?”

“It wasn’t that great. Preacher’s a little off on the cooking…”

His blood pressure was elevated. “Any chest pains?” she asked.

“No.”

She palpated his abdomen, although excess lipid tissue on his pot belly made it impossible to feel his internal organs while he was sitting upright. And he slapped at her hand, trying to push her away. But as she palpated, he grunted in pain. “How many of them have you had?” she asked him.

“How many what?”

“Attacks. Like this.”

“One or two,” he said.

“Don’t lie to the nice little nurse,” she chastised. “How long has this been going on?” She pulled the lids back on his eyes and they had begun to yellow. He was jaundicing. “You waiting for your liver to blow?”

“It’ll pass.”

He was having a major league gallbladder attack, and she wasn’t sure that was all. She didn’t even think about it—she picked up the phone and called the bar.
“Jack,” she said, “come over, please. I have to get Doc to the hospital.” And she hung up.

“No,” Doc said.

“Yes,” she said. “If you argue with me now, I’ll get Jack and Preacher to put you in a fireman’s carry and dump you in the Hummer. That should make your belly feel good.” She looked at his face. “How’s your back?”

“Terrible. This one is kind of bad.”

“You’re getting jaundiced, Doc,” she said. “We can’t wait. I suspect you’re in a biliary crisis. I’m going to start an IV and I don’t want any lip.”

Before she could get the needle in, both Jack and Preacher arrived. “We’ll get him in the car and I’ll drive you,” Jack said. “What’s the matter with him?”

“I think it’s a gallbladder attack, but he’s not talking. It’s serious. His blood pressure is up and he’s in terrible pain.”

“Waste of time,” Doc said. “It’ll pass.”

“Please be still,” she implored. “I don’t want to have to ask these big boys to hold you down.”

Once the IV was in, she made a mad dash to the drug cabinet while Jack and Preacher each got on either side of him, walking him slowly out the door, Jack holding the Ringer’s over his head. When they got to the Hummer she joined them. Doc said, “I’m not lying down.”

“I think you should—”

“I can’t,” he said. “Bad enough sitting up.”

“All right then, we’ll take out the gurney and put up the backseat. I’ll pull the IV bag hook forward and sit beside you. Have you taken anything for the pain yet?”

“I was just starting to have very kind thoughts toward morphine,” he said. Jack adjusted the backseat, leaving
the gurney on Doc’s porch. Doc climbed clumsily into the backseat. “We just don’t have good enough drugs,” he muttered.

“Can you make it to the hospital without drugs? Give the doctor a clean slate?”

“Arrrggghhh,” he grumbled.

“If you insist, I’ll give you something—but it would be better to let the E.R. decide what’s best.” She took a breath. “I grabbed some morphine.”

He peered at her through slits. “Hit me,” he said. “It’s just god-awful.”

She sighed and drew up a syringe from the vial in her bag, putting it right into the IV. It took only moments for him to say, “Ahhh…”

“Have you seen anyone about this?” she asked him.

“I’m a doctor, young woman. I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, brother,” she said.

“There’s a clinic in Garberville,” Jack said as he started the car. “It’s closer than Valley Hospital.”

“We’re going to need a surgeon,” Mel informed him.

“I’m not going to need surgery,” the old boy argued.

“You a betting man?” was all she said.

Doc Mullins rested a bit easier with the narcotic in him, which was good since it was over an hour, even with Jack’s fast and skillful driving. It wasn’t the distance so much as the roads—just getting to the county road that connected with the highway twisted and turned and was slow going. Mel watched out the window, remembering that first night she came here, terrified of these sharp twists and turns, the sheer drops, steep climbs. Now, with Jack managing the Hummer, she was comfortable. Before long they were out of the
hills and speeding through the valley. With her attention focused on Doc, she couldn’t fully appreciate the landscape. It did occur to her, however, that every time she traveled anywhere around this county, she was amazed by the beauty as if seeing it for the first time.

She had a fleeting thought that if anything bad happened to Doc, it would be down to only her. How was she going to have a baby and take care of a town?

She thought about Joey’s question—are you staying there? It made her smile. It would hardly seem a punishment to live out her life in this glorious place.

This was only Mel’s second visit to the emergency room—the first was with Connie. She had taken Jeremy and Anne to labor and delivery the night the baby came, so she didn’t really know the staff in E.R. They all knew Doc, however. He’d been putting in regular appearances there for upwards of forty years. And they greeted Mel very enthusiastically, as if she were an old friend.

Doc was not one to allow fussing; he made it plain he didn’t think he needed to be there. Mel and Jack were seated outside the exam room while the emergency room doctor checked him over. Then another doctor went into the exam room and Doc was heard to bellow, “Aw, for Christ’s sake! Can’t I get a better surgeon than you? I don’t want to die on the goddamn table!”

Mel blanched, but she saw that some of the staff was chuckling. After a bit the surgeon came out to them. He had a smile on his face. He held out his hand. “Dr. Simon, Miss…?”

She stood and took his hand. “Monroe,” she said. “Mel Monroe. I work with Doc. Is he going to be all right?”

“Oh, I think so. Doctors. Great patients, aren’t we? I’m going to admit him and that gallbladder has to come out, but we can’t take him into surgery until we get him out of this biliary crisis. That could take a day or week. Good call, Miss Monroe. I assume he didn’t assist you a bit.”

“He tried not to. May I see him?”

“Of course.”

She found Doc in a raised position in the bed while the nurse was fiddling with the IV. The E.R. doctor was writing in the chart and when he saw her, gave a nod of hello. And on Doc’s face was the unhappy expression she had come to view with fondness.

Mel looked around the E.R.—far smaller and less crowded than the one she was used to in L.A. Still, memories flooded back to her—the days and nights she had spent working in that environment. The adrenaline rush of emergencies; the edgy environment that had excited and stimulated her. At the nurses’ station a young doctor was bent over a nurse, reading over her shoulder, making her laugh at some whispered remark. That could have been Mel and Mark a few years ago. She let her eyes slowly close as she realized that she had moved completely beyond that. That familiar pang of longing did not plague her anymore. Now the only man she longed for waited for her just outside this room, prepared to go through anything with her. Her hand crept absently to her tummy, resting there. It was all right, she realized. What I suffered was very bad; what I have is very good.

“Young woman,” Doc snapped. “You gonna be sick?”

“Hmm?” she said, coming out of the haze. “No. Of course not.”

“For a minute there you looked like you were going to cry. Or puke.”

She just smiled at him. “Sorry. I was on another planet there for a second. Are you feeling better?”

“I’ll live. You’d better go. There might be patients back at the house.”

“I’ll come back for your surgery,” she said.

“No! I’m probably going to die in surgery anyway with that young pup cutting me up—you’re needed back in Virgin River. Someone has to look after things. I guess you’re in charge. God help us all.”

“I’ll call to see how you’re doing, and I will come back when you have surgery. And Doc? Try to behave yourself. Try not to get thrown out of here.”

“Ach,” he scoffed.

She put her small cool hand on his wizened brow. “Feel better. I’ll watch your practice.”

In an uncharacteristically soft voice, she heard him say, “Thank you.”

On the drive back to Virgin River Mel said, “He’s going to need time to recover before he can start seeing patients again. I suppose I’ll be staying at his house for a while after he gets home.”

Doc’s age, weight and blood pressure put him at a disadvantage in both surgery and recovery. It was a week before the surgeon could operate, and while the normal hospital stay for a cholesystectomy was brief—couple of days at most—they kept Doc for another week.

For those two weeks, Mel drove back and forth to Valley Hospital to check on him, plus managed the meager amount of patient care in Virgin River. June and
John offered assistance, should she need it, but she was holding up fine. She stayed at the clinic during the days, spent her nights with Jack across the street, and the only huge inconvenience was planning and executing a wedding.

Jack told his dad and sisters that he and Mel were marrying, news which was met with much approval and excitement. He saved the news about the baby; he wanted to see the looks on their faces when they found out. Since there were no inns or motels in Virgin River, the couple decided they’d have a small, family-only wedding in Sacramento as soon as possible—at the Sheridan house. Jack told his sisters to plan something simple, quiet and quick for three weeks from the date Doc had gone into the hospital. He and Mel would drive down, tie the knot, and hurry home. “What about a honeymoon?” Sam asked.

“Don’t worry about that,” Jack said. And what he thought was, I’m going to be on a honeymoon for the rest of my life.

Rick took the news of the pregnancy and fast approaching marriage with a bit of shock. “You okay with this?” he asked Jack.

“Oh, yeah. Big time. I’m ready for a family, Rick.” He put his hand around the back of the boy’s neck and pulled him against his shoulder. “In addition to you and Preach, that is. You okay with it?”

“Hey, man. You’re not too young, that’s for sure.” Then he grinned. “I really thought she was out of your league.”

“She is, buddy. But what the heck.”

The evening before Mel was due to pick up Doc at Valley hospital and bring him home, Jack asked, “Do you have to spend the nights at Doc’s?”

“Probably just for a few days—long enough to make sure he’s getting around all right. He’s ambulatory at the hospital, but he’s miserable. His grimace isn’t just from being ornery at the moment. He’ll need pain medication—and I don’t want him administering his own. He could get confused and overdose.”

Jack sat in the big chair in his room and said, “Come here,” to Mel. She went to him and he pulled her down onto his lap. “I have something for you.” He pulled a small box out of his pocket, shocking her into silence. It was definitely a ring box. “I don’t know how practical this is in a place like Virgin River. It might be a little fussy. But I couldn’t help myself. I want to give you everything—but this will have to do.”

She opened the box to find a diamond ring so beautiful it brought tears to her eyes. It was a wide gold band with three large diamonds set in; classy and understated, yet very rich and unique. “Jack, what were you thinking? This is beautiful! The diamonds are huge!”

“I understand if you can’t wear it often, given your work. And if you don’t like the design—”

“Are you kidding? It’s gorgeous!”

“I went ahead and got a band like it, no diamonds. Is that okay?”

“Only perfect. Where in the world did you find this thing?”

“Not the Virgin River jewelry store, that’s for sure. I had to drive over to the coast. Are you sure you like it?”

She threw her arms around his neck. “You gave me a baby,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting this, too!”