Author: Robyn Carr
An hour later the lights came on and Preacher was on Jack’s front porch, looking for information. John had helped clean Mel up and washed the baby, helped Jack get clean sheets on the bed and was ready to leave them. “There’s no point in taking them out in this weather,” John said. “They’re in good shape. You need a sedative, man?” he asked Jack, laughing.
“I could use one, yeah. Got a good single malt in that bag there?”
“Wouldn’t that be convenient?” He slapped a hand on Jack’s back and said, “You did a good job, buddy. I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah? What choice did I have? It was all her.”
“Show Uncle Preach the baby. I’m going home. And I think you have like tons of laundry to do.”
“Tons.” Jack laughed.
Jack carried the baby to the living room and let Preacher have a peek. “You deliver him?” Preacher asked.
“It wasn’t my idea,” Jack said.
Preacher grinned hugely. “Looks like you did okay.”
“I’m not looking to do it again, however,” Jack said. But he smiled. Where’s Paige? Chris?”
“Rick’s standing guard,” Preacher said. “Wearing my sidearm. He’s a little too happy about it.”
“Yeah? Well, you better get back there. Disarm him.”
Jack put the baby back in the cradle next to Mel, whose face had resumed those soft, beautiful lines that had been there prior to her hard work. He went around the house collecting clothes, towels, sheets. He laundered, he cleaned, he set the house back in order. At nine o’clock there was a soft knock at the door and he opened it to find Preacher had returned. He lifted a bottle. “John said you might need a sedative,” he said.
“Yeah. Come on in. Be real quiet.”
Jack found a couple of glasses and Preacher tipped the bottle over them. Then he lifted his glass, Jack lifted his, and Preacher whispered, “Congratulations, Dad.”
Jack threw back the shot and when he brought back his head, his eyes were misting over. “My wife,” he said in a whisper. “You have no idea the strength that took. She was amazing. I watched her face—she went to a place of power I’ve never been. And then, when I handed her the baby, when she put my son against her breast…” He took another swallow. “When she nursed my son, she was in another place—there was such peace and love…. God,” he said.
“Yeah,” Preacher said. “That was God.” Preacher opened his arms and gave the man a huge hug, patting his back.
“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,” Jack whispered.
Preacher clamped strong hands on Jack’s upper arms, giving him a little shake. “I’m real happy for you, man.” And then he left, Jack quietly closing the door behind him.
At midnight, Jack blew out most of the candles and sat in the rocker by her bed. By his bed. He lifted the baby to Mel at two in the morning and watched, mesmerized, as she nursed him for a few minutes on each side, burped him and handed him back to Jack with sleepy instructions to change him. Which he did.
At 5:00 a.m. he repeated the process of lifting his crying son to his mother’s arms, again watching as she breast-fed him. Again, changing him and cleaning him up. He held him and rocked him for an hour before putting him back in his cradle. At eight in the morning, it happened again, a feeding and changing, and Jack had not taken so much as a nap. He had watched every rise and fall of his son’s chest, each breath, frequently reaching out to gently touch his perfect little head.
At nine in the morning he heard the sound of saws and he went to the front porch. He couldn’t see that far down the road because of the fallen tree, but he knew what was happening—Preacher was having the road cleared.
At noon, Mel got out of bed. He was astonished by the fact that she sat up, put her feet on the floor, stood up and stretched. “Ah,” she said. “I think I’ll have a shower.”
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I feel so much better.” She put her hands in the small of her back. “My back doesn’t hurt anymore.” She walked into his arms, hugged him close and said, “Thank you, Jack. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Yeah, I think you could have.” He looked down the length of her.
“What’s the matter?”
“After seeing what you did last night, I can’t believe you can stand.”
She laughed softly. “Amazing, isn’t it? The way a woman’s body can open up and deliver a child that size? You don’t realize it yet, but that was a very wonderful experience you had. Delivering your own child.”
He kissed her brow. “What makes you think I don’t realize it?”
She touched his face. “Have you slept?”
“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m still too wired.”
“Well, maybe you do realize it. I’m going to get cleaned up a little, then I have things for you to do.”
“What things?” he asked. “I did my laundry.”
She laughed at him. “Jack, we haven’t eaten anything. And you have phone calls to make. You have to go into town. I heard saws—you think your truck will be pulled out by now?”
“It’s sitting in front of the cabin.”
She shook her head. “This place. The way people just act on instinct, without being asked. Okay, I’m starving. I’m going to clean up.”
When she got out of the shower, he had a bowl of hot soup waiting for her. “You sure you’ll be all right here by yourself?” he asked her.
“I can take it from here, cowboy,” she said, diving into her soup.
Jack hurried through his phone calls while Paige and Preacher packed up a nice takeout for him—a scrumptious stew, bread, some sandwiches, fruit and pie. He quickly foraged for some groceries from the kitchen—eggs, cheese, milk, juice. Jack couldn’t be away from them for long—he hurried back to the cabin. He found Mel and the baby napping, so he stoked the fire and leaned back on the couch, his feet stretched out in front of him on the chest that served as a coffee table. A kind of mellowness had settled over him, almost like having had a tranquilizer. He thought he might be visiting heaven, it was so sweet.
A couple of hours later, he felt her fingers threading through his hair and he opened his eyes. She was sitting on the couch beside him, holding the baby. “Has he eaten?” Jack asked.
“And eaten and eaten and eaten.”
“Give him to me,” he said, reaching for his baby. He kissed his head. “God,” he said. “I still can’t believe it. You know how I feel? Like I’ve never been happy before in my life, because this is so…This is just so much bigger than the happiest I’ve ever been.” He touched her cheek. “No one’s ever done anything this great for me, Melinda.”
“That’s good to know, Jack,” she said with a laugh.
“Kiss me,” he said, leaning toward her. She obliged him, covering his lips in a deep and loving kiss.
“Did you make your phone calls?”
“Uh-huh. Joey’s coming, but I hope you don’t mind—I asked her to give us a few days. I want to be here with you, alone, for a little while.”
“That’s fine. Till you come down to earth. How about things at the bar? Aren’t you needed there for Paige?”
“Ron and Bruce are taking turns, hanging around. Am I going to come down to earth? It doesn’t feel like it’s going to happen.”
“It’s going to happen,” she said. “But I hope not right away. I really like you like this. All sweet and overwhelmed.”
“I like me like this, too.”
After school, Rick went to Mel’s cabin instead of to work. He tapped softly at the door and it was opened by Mel. She smiled sweetly. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m wonderful,” she said in a whisper. She put a finger to her lips and reached for his hand, drawing him inside. “Be very quiet,” she whispered. “Come here.”
She led him into the living room. Jack was asleep on the couch, his feet up on the trunk. She gestured to the chair. “Give me your jacket and sit,” she said. He shrugged out of it, handing it to her, and did as he was told while Mel left the room. She was back in seconds, carrying the little bundle. She took the baby to Rick and put him in his arms. Then she went down on one knee, very nimbly for a woman in her condition, and put her arm around Rick’s shoulders, her face near his face.
Rick held the new life, Jack’s son, and admired the handsome round head, the little, pink, heart-shaped mouth. The baby squirmed a little in his arms, making precious little noises.
Jack opened his eyes but didn’t move. He looked the short distance across the small room and saw Rick holding the baby and Mel holding Rick. There was a slight glistening on Rick’s cheek.
“This is how it’s supposed to be,” Rick whispered.
“This is how it will be,” Mel whispered back. She pressed a soft kiss to Rick’s cheek. “All in good time.”
Then she went to the couch and curled up next to Jack. His arm lifted automatically to bring her close against him, and they remained like that, the four of them, for almost an hour.
Eighteen
Mike Valenzuela had a friend in Parole and Probation, a man he’d used as a source of information when he was in the gangs unit. It was an excellent way of keeping tabs on gang members who’d been released from prison and were back on the street, with parole obligations. Even though he was no longer on the job, it was still a simple matter to ask questions about someone meeting probation requirements. Mike had been a highly respected officer. He was trusted.
“He’s making his weekly appointments, bringing in his chits for attending daily meetings at AA,” Mike told Paige and Preacher. “He’s working two nights a week in a soup kitchen and trying to get his old job back.”
“Soup kitchen?” Paige asked. She shook her head. “Hard to imagine.”
“This will be easier for you to imagine. He’s already trying to get his community service commitment bumped down and his probation appointments dropped from weekly to monthly. And…he’s living with a woman he met in treatment.”
“Oh, God,” Paige said. “Brie said something like that might happen….”
“It’s predictable, in fact,” Mike said. “They discourage any kind of involvement during the first year of sobriety—involvement with anybody, but especially another addict. Yet it happens all the time. Paige, it’s impossible to believe he’s forgotten about you, but his focus seems to be on lightening his sentencing burden right now. And maybe, a new woman.”
“He hasn’t called or anything,” she said. “You thought he might.”
“I did,” Mike said. “If his mission was still custody or having you reconsider the relationship, I would have expected a call before anything else, the reason being a phone call could really annoy the judge, but if he sets foot in Virgin River to harass or threaten you in any way, he’ll serve time. It’s a pretty good deterrent—especially to a man who’s been in jail. It ain’t pretty in there.”
“You think we can relax?” she asked.
“Just a little, maybe. Try to be alert. I think he’ll turn up again someday. Guys like him, they nurse grudges, rarely abandon obsessions, and I don’t believe they change. But he’s pretty busy right now. It could be ten years before you have to deal with him again.”
Preacher put his arm around her, pulling her close against him. “Just the same, will you check sometimes?”
“Absolutely,” Mike promised. “Every week.”
