Virgin River by Robyn Carr Page B

been here. I heard the helicopter came for the guy who almost died in the truck accident. I think the helicopter got as much notice as the accident.”
    “God, I hope these people are healthy until he gets back,” she said. Mel dug into the eggs. This seemed tobe a Spanish omelet, and it was just as delicious as the one she’d eaten the day before. “Mmm,” she said appreciatively. “Here’s another thing—I can’t get any cell phone reception here. I should let my family know I’m here safely. More or less.”
    “The pines are too tall, the mountains too steep. Use the land line—and don’t worry about the long distance cost. You have to be in touch with your family. Who is your family?”
    “Just an older married sister in Colorado Springs. She and her husband put up a collective and huge fuss about this—as if I was going into the Peace Corps or something. I should’ve listened.”
    “There will be a lot of people around here glad you didn’t,” he said.
    “I’m stubborn that way.”
    He smiled appreciatively.
    It made her instantly think, don’t get any ideas, buster. I’m married to someone. Just because he isn’t here, doesn’t mean it’s over.
    However, there was something about a guy—at least six foot two and two hundred pounds of rock-hard muscle—holding a newborn with gentle deftness and skill. Then she saw him lower his lips to the baby’s head and inhale her scent, and some of the ice around Mel’s broken heart started to melt.
    “I’m going into Eureka today for supplies,” he said. “Need anything?”
    “Disposable diapers. Newborn. And since you know everyone, could you ask around if anyone can help out with the baby? Either full-time, part-time, whatever. It would be better for her to be in a family home than here at Doc’s with me.”
    “Besides,” he said, “you want to get out of here.”
    “I’ll help out with the baby for a couple of days, but I don’t want to stretch it out. I can’t stay here, Jack.”
    “I’ll ask around,” he said. And decided he might just forget to do that. Because, yes, she could.
     
    Little baby Chloe had only been asleep thirty minutes after her morning bottle when the first patient of the day arrived. A healthy and scrubbed looking young farm girl wearing overalls in the middle of which protruded a very large pregnant tummy, carrying two large jars of what appeared to be preserved blackberries. She put the berries on the floor just inside the door. “I heard there was a new lady doctor in town,” she said.
    “Not exactly,” Mel said. “I’m a nurse practitioner.”
    Her face fell in disappointment. “Oh,” she said. “I thought it would be so nice to have a woman doctor around when it’s time.”
    “Time?” Mel asked. “To deliver?”
    “Uh-huh. I like Doc, don’t get me wrong. But—”
    “When are you due?” Mel asked.
    She rubbed her swollen belly. “I think about a month, but I’m not really sure,” she said. She wore laced-up work boots, a yellow sweater underneath the overalls and her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked twenty years old, at most. “It’s my first.”
    “I’m a midwife, as well,” Mel said, and the young woman’s face lit up in a beautiful smile. “But I have to warn you—I’m only here temporarily. I’m planning to leave as soon as—” She thought about what she should say. Then, instead of explaining about the baby, she said, “Have you had a checkup recently? Blood pressure, weight, et cetera?”
    “It’s been a few weeks,” she said. “I guess I’m about due.”
    “Why don’t we do that since you’re here, if I can find what I need,” Mel said. “What’s your name?”
    “Polly Fishburn.”
    “I bet you have a chart around here somewhere,” Mel said. She went behind the counter and started opening file drawers. A brief search turned up a chart. She went in search of litmus, and other obstetric supplies in the exam room. “Come on back,