Virgin River (34 page)

“I didn’t know I was giving you a baby,” he said, grinning. “This, I did on purpose.”

She laughed at him and said, “People will think we’re uppity.”

“Mel—I got it a while ago. When I first thought you might be pregnant. Probably before you did. Even if it had turned out you weren’t, I was set on this. This idea to marry you, to have my life with you… It’s not something I feel like I have to do. It’s what I want.”

“God, how did this happen?”

“I don’t care how,” he said.

He went with her the next day to pick up Doc and bring him home. Mel got him settled in his bed at home where he proved to be a very annoying patient; however, it seemed he would make a full recovery and be back to his old schedule in no time. He might not be seeing patients by the time Mel and Jack slipped down to Sacramento for a couple of days, but he’d be able to look after himself.

Meanwhile, with all Mel had to do, running the clinic and looking after Doc, Jack, Preacher or Ricky were bringing his meals, and Mel was able to escape to the bar for an hour here and there, just for a change of scenery. Nights she spent in the hospital bed down the hall from Doc. Alone.

After just a few such nights, she was startled awake by noise downstairs. She sat up sleepily and listened. It was unusual, but not unheard of for someone to come pounding at the doctor’s door after hours, so when Mel heard the knocking, she rolled over and looked at the clock. It was 1:00 a.m., which implied an emergency and as she was shrugging into her robe, she began to form contingency plans if she had to go out on a call. Jack could come to the house to look after Doc—or maybe go with her, leaving Doc to sleep through till morning without her.

She remembered hearing about that near-fatal truck accident some years ago and thought, what if I’m not enough help? Who could I call?

When she opened the front door, no one was there. Then the pounding came again and she realized that whoever it was had come to the back, to the kitchen door. She looked through the glass to see the face of that man from the compound. Calvin. If he was coming to fetch her out to that camp, she wouldn’t go. She’d have to send him away. If he’d come to ask her for drugs, she thought she might have to call Jack.

She opened the door with an excuse on her lips when he rushed her, the back of his forearm against her neck. He shoved her backward with enough force that she knocked over a chair, crashed into the countertop and sent coffee cups that were drying in the dish rack hurtling to the floor. He had a snarl on his lips, a glazed look in his eyes, and a big hunting knife in his hand. She screamed, a noise that was quickly cut off as he grabbed her by the hair and put the knife to her throat.

“Drugs,” he said simply. “Just gimme what you got, then I’m getting the hell out of these mountains.”

“They’re in there… I have to get the key,” she said, indicating the drug cabinet.

“Forget it,” he said. As he held her, he tried kicking the wooden door. The whole cabinet shook and wobbled; she could hear the contents bouncing around.

“Don’t!” she cried. “You’ll break the vials! You want the drugs or not?”

He stopped. “Where’s the key?” he said.

“In the office.”

He pulled her backward, flipped the lock on the back door and said, “Come on. Let’s move it.” With one arm
around her waist and the knife at her throat, he walked her out of the kitchen. She had no option but to lead him to the office.

He held her in front of him, hostage style, as they slowly shuffled down the hall to the office. As she opened the drawer to reach for the key, he started to laugh. He grabbed her hand. “I’ll take this,” he said, pulling at her ring.

“Oh, God,” she cried, retreating. But he easily pulled her back by the hair and threatened her with the knife right in front of her face. She froze and let him pull off the ring.

He shoved it in his pocket and said, “Hurry up. I ain’t got all night.”

“Don’t hurt me,” she said. “You can have anything you want.”

He laughed. “And what if I want you, too?”

She thought she might vomit on the spot. She willed herself to be brave, to be strong, to let this ordeal end.

But he was going to kill her. She knew who he was, what he’d done, and suddenly she knew—he was going to kill her. As soon as he had what he wanted, that knife would slice across her throat.

Lying on top of the desk were the Hummer keys, obvious by the trademark and remote. He scooped them up, put them in his pocket with the ring and steered her out of the office back toward the kitchen. And he muttered, “Asshole doesn’t pay me enough to sit in the woods with Maxine and a bunch of old bums. But this should catch me up.” And then he laughed.

Jack rolled out of bed to answer the ringing phone. “Mel’s in trouble,” came Doc’s gravelly voice.
“Someone’s trying to get in the back of the house. Downstairs. She’s down there. Glass broke.”

Jack dropped the phone and grabbed his jeans off the chair. No time for a shirt or shoes, he took his 9 mm handgun out of the holster that hung on a hook in the closet, checked to be sure it was loaded and that he had one in the chamber and bolted out the door. He crossed the street at a dead run. He didn’t think—he was on automatic. His jaw ground, his temples pulsed and his blood was roaring in his ears.

There was an old truck at the clinic beside Doc’s truck and Mel’s Hummer. He knew exactly who was in there.

He looked into the front door window in time to see Calvin pushing Mel into the office, and they had come from the direction of the kitchen where the drug cabinet sat. He ran around to the back of the house and looked into the kitchen door window; they were still out of sight. Then they came back into view from down the hall and Jack ducked—but not before he saw that Calvin had a big, serrated knife against her neck. He waited; he wasn’t going to give him the time or opportunity to flee or to do any damage to Mel before fleeing. It was a long few seconds as he waited for them to get back into the kitchen. He could hear their movements, the man’s hostile voice as he held Mel.

They were almost to the drug cabinet when Jack kicked the door. It crashed open and bounced off the opposite wall, but he was already inside. Legs braced apart, arms raised, pistol pointed at the man who held his woman, he said, “Put down the knife. Carefully.”

“You’re gonna let me out of here, and she’ll come with me to be sure,” Calvin said.

Knife against her throat, Mel looked at Jack and saw a man she had never seen before. The expression on his face should be enough to terrify the man who held her. Bare chested, barefoot, his jeans zipped but not buttoned, his shoulders and arms frighteningly huge, big tattoos on his swollen biceps, he looked like a wild man. He looked over the barrel of the gun, his eyes narrow, and a set to his jaw told her he was going to act. There was no question. He did not look at Mel, but at Calvin. And for a woman terrified of guns, she was unafraid. She believed in him. She knew, in that instant, that he would risk his life for her, but he would never put her at risk. Never. If he was going to make a move, she wouldn’t be in danger. Her expression went from frightened to trusting.

Jack had less than a four-inch target—the left side of the man’s head. Right next to that was Mel’s head, Mel’s beautiful face. At her throat, the blade. He didn’t even have to think about it—he wasn’t going to lose her like this.

“You have one second.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw her cast a look his way, a look that in that split second told him she loved him, believed in him. Then her eyes dropped closed and her head dipped ever so slightly to the right.

“Back off, man—”

Jack took his shot, blowing the man backward, the knife flying out of his hand.

Mel ran to Jack. The arm that held the gun was dangling at Jack’s side and his other arm went around her. Jack held her close as she let out a long slow breath against his bare chest, clinging to him. He never took his eyes off the offender. A nice, neat hole was bored right into his head, a growing pool of blood spreading under him as he lay motionless.

They stood like that for a while, Mel trying to catch her breath and Jack watching. Ready. She pulled away enough to look up at him and was nearly startled anew by an expression so fierce, so angry. “He was going to kill me,” she said in a whisper.

His eyes remained on the man as he said, “I will never let anything happen to you.”

The sound of running footfalls came up behind them, but Jack didn’t turn.

Preacher stopped suddenly in the doorway, a hand braced on each side as he leaned in, panting. He looked into the kitchen, saw the man on the floor, Mel in Jack’s protective embrace, the gun dangling at Jack’s side. And Preacher’s expression went dark, his brows drawn close, his mouth turned down in a scowl. He walked into the kitchen, kicked the knife across the floor and bent to the man. He felt the man’s neck for a carotid pulse. He looked over his shoulder at Jack and shook his head. “It’s okay, Jack. It’s done.”

Jack put the gun on the table and, with Mel still protected against him, turned to the wall phone. He lifted the receiver, punched a few numbers and said, “This is Jack Sheridan in Virgin River. I’m at Doc Mullins’s—I just killed a man.”

I
t took the sheriff’s deputy, Henry Depardeau, longer to arrive in Virgin River than it took him to determine that Jack had acted in defense of Mel, whose life was in danger. Just the same, Jack’s second call that night had been to Jim Post, June Hudson’s husband. That background in law enforcement could come in handy. Jim was there faster than Henry. And, Jack learned that night, Jim was a former DEA agent who had actually worked in the area prior to retirement.

“We better have a little look at Calvin’s camp,” Jim said. “If it’s just a little compound of vagrants, I don’t see that as a problem. But I suspect it might be more than that. If so—we’ll want to tell the sheriff.”

Jack was invited to spend what was left of the night with Mel at Doc’s. She saw a side of him she didn’t know existed. This gentle, tender giant was gripped with fury, and it was a silent and impressive fury. He held her through the night, both of them in one small hospital bed. Sleep was difficult for her and she was fitful, but every time she opened her eyes and looked at him, she found him awake, watching over her. She
would look up at his face, his tense jaw and eyes narrowed in anger, but when she put her hand against his cheek, he would relax his features and turn soft eyes on her. “It’s all right, baby,” he said. “Try to get some sleep. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid while I’m with you,” she whispered, and this was the truth.

The next morning, early, June and Jim arrived in town. June came over to the clinic while Jim went to Jack’s. “I just wanted to make sure you aren’t having any stress-related problems with your pregnancy,” June said. “Any cramping, spotting?”

“Everything seems to be fine. Except for those frequent shudders I feel when I think about what might have happened.”

“I’m just going to spend a couple of hours in town,” June said. “If you have patients, I’ll help. Do you need to rest?”

“Jack was here last night. I don’t think he slept, but I got a little rest. Where’s the baby?” Mel asked.

“Susan has Jamie, and John and my dad have the clinic.” She smiled. “We country folk have to be flexible.”

“What’s Jim doing?” Mel asked.

“He’s with Jack and Preacher. They won’t be long. They’re going to have to take a look at that place the man came from, Mel. Be sure there’s no one else out there that will come into town and threaten a life.”

“Oh, God,” she said.

“I think they can handle it,” June said. “I guess it has to be done.”

“That’s not it, June. I’ve been out to that camp a dozen times. I didn’t see Calvin Thompson there except the
very first time, when I went with Doc to help him treat some injuries. But I went, though I’d been told not to. And I was a little nervous and scared, but it never once occurred to me that someone from there might hold a knife to my throat and—” She stopped, unable to go on.

“Good Lord,” June said. “What were you doing?”

Mel shrugged. Her voice was small when she answered. “They looked hungry.”

A slow smile grew on June Hudson’s face. “And you thought you weren’t one of us. What hooey.”

Jack, Preacher and Jim piled into Jack’s truck and drove back into the woods. The compound was less than twenty miles away, but traversed by so many old logging roads and concealed roads, it took almost an hour to get there. They were so buried, one would never be inclined to worry that these people would pose a dangerous threat.

The young man with the knife, Calvin Thompson, hadn’t been with them long. He wasn’t just a vagrant, but a violent felon. It hadn’t taken Henry Depardeau long to learn he had a long drug-related criminal record from other California cities and had been hiding in the forest to dodge felony warrants for his arrest. It was likely that Maxine had brought him to her father’s hideaway in the forest.

When they got to the camp, Jim Post said, “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” He pointed to the camouflaged semitrailer, a generator beside it. The three men from Virgin River got out of the truck, brandishing rifles of the caliber that would kill a black bear with one shot. Rifles that would cut a man in half. Of course there was no one in evidence. “Paulis!” Jack called.

A skinny, wasted-looking, bearded man came out of a hut. A shack. Behind him was a stringy-haired, skinny young woman. Slowly a few more men came around from the back of dilapidated trailers. This small crowd didn’t display arms, but they stayed back, having knowledge of the firearms Jack, Jim and Preacher carried.

Jack approached Paulis. “Are you growing?” Jack asked.

The man shook his head.

“Did Thompson bring that operation in here?”

The girl made a sound and covered her mouth with her hand. Paulis gave a nod.

“He tried to kill a woman last night. For drugs and property. He’s dead. Who brought in the trailer?”

Paulis shook his head. “We don’t exchange names around here.”

“What’d he look like?” Jim asked.

Paulis just shrugged.

“Come on, man. You want to go to jail for him? What’d he drive?”

Paulis shrugged again, but Maxine stepped around her father, tears on her pale cheeks. “A big black Range Rover. Lights up top. You know the kind. He paid Calvin to watch the grow.”

“I know who he is,” Jack said quietly to Jim. “Don’t know where he is, but I have a good idea this isn’t his only grow. And I happen to know the license number on that big SUV.”

“Well, that could come in handy.”

Then to Clifford Paulis, Jack said, “You have twenty-four hours to clear this camp and move out. The sheriff’s deputy will be out here to close down this
spot real quick, and if you’re here, you’ll be arrested—that shit’s in your possession now. You have to move on now. I don’t want you around. You hear me?”

Paulis just nodded.

“That woman was my woman,” Jack said more quietly. “I’m going to look for you, and if I can find you, you haven’t moved far enough, you understand me?”

Paulis dipped his chin once more.

The differences in the men—those from the camp and Jack, Jim and Preacher, left no doubt as to who would be the winners in any kind of conflict. Just to drive the point home, Jack raised his 30-06 caliber, bolt action rifle, aimed it at the generator beside the half-buried trailer in the compound, and fired, decimating it. The report was loud enough to shake the trees. The men in view flinched, raised their hands to cover their faces or cowered back.

“I’m coming back tomorrow,” Jack said. “Early.”

When they were back in the truck, Jack asked Jim, “What do you make of them?”

“Vagrants. Just living in the forest. They didn’t have the means to put that trailer in there—that was arranged by whoever Calvin was working for. They’ll go, most likely. Deeper in the forest, where they can set up camp again and be left alone. We’ll let Henry know where to find it. But you should make good on your advice just the same. They can’t be here anymore. If they’re not dangerous, they’re willing to be taken advantage of by dangerous people.”

“I didn’t see any guns. They have to be armed.”

“Oh, sure—but they’re not armed with much. They saw what we’re carrying—none of these old boys are going to be shooting at us. The ones to worry about are
guys like Calvin’s boss, and his boss’s boss. DEA cleared out a whole town in the Trinity Alps several years ago while I was an agent—and now those boys had ’em some guns.” Jim gave Jack a shot in the arm. “I’m for staying out of their business. If Forestry runs across them, they’ll report them to the sheriff’s department or maybe to the DEA.”

The spirit of the town was tense and worried. Jack had become their favorite son, and his chosen woman—the woman who had come here to help people—had had a brush with death.

Throughout the day, neighbors came to Doc’s bearing food and offering conversation. There were no patients, only friends. Doc got out of bed and dressed, coming downstairs to visit. With the exception of a short nap in the afternoon, he stayed up the entire day.

Jim and June only stayed a couple of hours, but Jack was a presence on and off throughout the day, which worked well because people who came by the house to check on Mel were anxious to talk to him. “Shot him while he held her at knifepoint, they’re saying.” Jack merely nodded and reached for her hand. “How’d you dare? How’d you know you wouldn’t be off by a half inch?”

“I didn’t have that much to spare,” he said. “I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger if I thought there was any chance I’d be off my mark.”

Another matter of great interest was the shining ring that graced Mel’s finger. The engagement was met with happiness and affection, though not surprise. There were many questions about the wedding, and a serious protest when it was learned that there would be a small ceremony in a few days for family only in Sacramento.

Jack, Doc and Mel ate a dinner made up of the food brought by well-wishers and when it was done and the dishes cleaned up, Doc said, “I’m going to bed, Melinda. You should go back to your man’s bed. Those hospital beds are no place for the two of you.” And up the stairs he slowly trudged.

“Yes, you should,” Jack confirmed, taking her with him across the street.

Having slept so little the night before, once she was in Jack’s bed, curled up against his warmth, she nearly passed out from exhaustion.

Before the sun was even up the next morning, she was awakened by the sound of amassing vehicles. She looked at the clock and saw that it was barely 5:00 a.m. She rummaged around for clothes and went through the bar onto the porch to see what all the commotion was about. There in the street were trucks, campers, AWD vehicles, SUVs, cars. Men were standing around in the street, checking their rifles, even putting on flak jackets and bulletproof vests. Some wore jeans and work shirts, some wore fatigues. She recognized faces among them—Mike Valenzuela from L.A., Zeke from Fresno, Paul Haggerty and Joe Benson from Grants Pass, Oregon. There were also neighbors and ranchers and farmers from Virgin River. She saw that Ricky was with them, looking for all the world like a grown man.

She watched them for a while before Jack noticed her standing there, her hair all mussed from sleep, her feet bare. He handed his rifle off to Paul and went to her. “You look like a girl,” he said. “A little pregnant girl, but I know better.” He grinned. “I thought maybe you could sleep awhile longer.”

“Through this? What’s going on?”

“Scavenger hunt,” he said. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Come on, Jack.”

“We’re going to check, see if the woods need to be cleaned out,” he said.

“With weapons? Vests? My God, Jack.”

He pulled her against him briefly and said, “I doubt we’ll have any trouble, Mel. But we should be prepared for whatever we run into. We’re just going to cut a wide circle around the town—be certain there are no drug farmers or criminals close by. No camps like the one Thompson came from. No camps for people like Thompson to hide out in.”

“How will you know whether there are dangerous people in ordinary camps? I’m told there are plenty of those kind of camps scattered around. Squatters, vagrants, mountain people.”

He shrugged. “Then we should know who’s out there. Look for what’s in their camps, check their weapons so we know what they have. Pot’s pretty easy to spot—it has a real distinctive green color and it almost always comes with camouflage and a generator.”

She put a hand on the vest he wore. “And you need this because—”

“Because I’m going to be a father soon, and I don’t take foolish chances. One of these idiots could misfire.”

“You’re taking Ricky with you?”

“I look out for Ricky. We’ll all be looking out for him, but believe me—he’s up to this. I taught him to shoot myself. He wouldn’t be left out, because it’s about you.”

“Is this absolutely necessary?”

“Yes,” he said, and looked down at her with the ex
pression she had learned meant he was all about business.

Jim Post was beside Jack, grinning. “Morning,” he said.

“Does June know you’re doing this?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And what did she say?”

“Something like, ‘You better be careful.’ The hard part was convincing old Doc Hudson he couldn’t come.”

“Isn’t this better left to the police? The sheriff?”

Jim put a foot up on the porch step. He shrugged. “We’ve already told Henry about Paulis’s camp and gave him the description of the vehicle being driven by the man who probably had it set up. Hopefully, the Paulis camp is deserted and their plants left behind. We saw ’em, Mel—and there’s no question—those old squatters didn’t bring a semi in, bury it, camouflage it and set up a grow. But someone did—and there could be more of those. There’s real trouble way back in there—on federal land. We’re not going that far back. We’ll stay out of their business. We’ll leave that up to the professionals.”

“It just seems so vigilante-like,” she said.

“Naw, we’re not going to do anything illegal, Mel. We’re just going to send a little message. You don’t want to give our women, our towns, any reason to feel they have to fight back. Understand?” She didn’t answer. “If there’s anything like that near enough to threaten Virgin River, we’ll give them a chance to run for their lives before we disclose their location to authorities. It’ll be fine. We’ll be home by dark.”

She said to Jack, “I’m going to be scared to death all day.”

“Do I have to stay here with you, so you won’t be
scared?” he asked her. “Or can you believe in me one more time?”

She bit her lip, but nodded. He slipped an arm around her waist and lifted her up to his mouth, kissing her deeply. “You taste so good in the morning,” he said, smiling down at her. “Is that normal?” he teased.

“You’d better be careful,” she said. “Remember that I love you.”

“I don’t need any more than that,” he said, putting her back on her feet.

Preacher came to the porch. He nodded at her, bushy brows drawn together in a frown that made her almost shudder. “Just send him in,” Mel said. “That’ll scare them all away.” And to her surprise, Preacher smiled so big, for a moment she didn’t recognize him.

When they had finally left in a grand parade, Mel called June. “Do you know what your husband is doing?” she asked.