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It had been just Mel and Joey for a long time now. Joey was four years her senior and had been married to Bill for fifteen years. Their mother had died when Mel was only four—she could barely remember her. And their father, considerably older than their mother had been, had passed peacefully in his La-Z-boy at the age of seventy, ten years ago.
Mark’s parents were still alive and well in L.A., but she had never warmed to them. They had always been stuffy and cool toward her. Mark’s death had brought them briefly closer, but it took only a few months for her to realize that they never called her. She checked on them, asked after their grief, but it seemed they’d let her drift out of sight. She was not surprised to note that she didn’t miss them. She hadn’t even told them she was leaving town.
She had wonderful friends, true. Girlfriends from nursing school and from the hospital. They called with regularity. Got her out of the house. Let her talk about him and cry about him. But after a while, though she loved them, she began to associate them with Mark’s death. Every time she saw them, the pitying looks in their eyes was enough to bring out her pain. It was as if everything had been rolled up into one big miserable ball. She just wanted to start over so badly. Someplace where no one knew how empty her life had become.
Late in the day, Mel handed off the baby to Doc while she took a badly needed shower, scrubbing from head to toe. After she had bathed and dried her hair and donned her long flannel nightgown and big furry slippers, she went downstairs to Doc’s office to collect the infant and a bottle. He gave her such a look, seeing her like that. It startled his eyes open. “I’ll feed her, rock her, and put her down,” she said.
“Unless you have something else in mind for her.”
“By all means,” he said, handing the baby over.
Up in her room, Mel rocked and fed the baby. And of course, the tears began to well in her eyes.
The other thing no one in this town knew was that she couldn’t have children. She and Mark had been seeking help for their infertility. Because she was twenty-eight and he thirty-four when they married, and they’d already been together for two years, they didn’t want to wait. She had never used birth control and after one year of no results they went to see the specialists.
Nothing appeared to be wrong with Mark, but she’d had to have her tubes blown out and her endometriosis scraped off the outside of her uterus. But still, nothing. She’d taken hormones and stood on her head after intercourse. She took her temperature every day to see when she was ovulating. She went through so many home pregnancy tests, she should have bought stock in the company. Nothing. They had just completed their first fifteen-thousand-dollar attempt at in vitro fertilization when Mark was killed. Somewhere in a freezer in L.A. were more fertilized ovum—if she ever became desperate enough to try to go it alone.
Alone. That was the operative word. She had wanted a baby so badly. And now she held in her arms an abandoned little girl. A beautiful baby girl with pink skin and a sheer cap of brown hair. It made her literally weep with longing. The baby was healthy and strong, eating with gusto, belching with strength. She slept soundly despite the crying that went on in the bed right beside her. That night Doc Mullins sat up in bed, book in his lap, listening. So—she was in pain. Desperate pain. And she covered it with that flip wit and sarcasm. Nothing is ever what it seems, he thought, flicking off his light.
Chapter Three
M el woke to the ringing of the phone. She checked the baby; she had only awoken twice in the night and still slept soundly. She found her slippers and went downstairs to see if she could rustle up some coffee. Doc Mullins was already in the kitchen, dressed.
“Going out to the Driscolls’—sounds like Jeananne might be having an asthma attack. There’s the key to the drug box. I wrote down the number for my pager—cell phones aren’t worth a damn out here. If any patients wander in while I’m gone, you can take care of them.”
“I thought you just wanted me to babysit,” she said.
“You came here to work, didn’t you?”
“You said you didn’t want me,” she pointed out to him.
“You said you didn’t want us, either, but here we are. Let’s see what you got.” He shrugged on his jacket and picked up his bag. Then jutted his chin toward her, lifted his eyebrows as if to say, Well?
“Do you have appointments today?”
“I only make appointments on Wednesdays—the rest are walk-ins. Or call-outs, like this one.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to charge,” she argued.
“Neither do I,” he said. “Hardly matters—these people aren’t made of money and damn few have insurance. Just make sure you keep good records and I’ll work it out. It’s probably beyond you, anyway. You don’t look all that bright.”
“You know,” she said, “I’ve worked with some legendary assholes, but you’re competing for first place here.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said gruffly.
“That figures,” she answered tiredly. “Incidentally, the night was fine.”
No comment from the old goat. He started for the door and on his way out, grabbed a cane. “Are you limping?” Mel asked him.
“Arthritis,” he said. He dug an antacid out of his pocket and popped it in his mouth.
“And heartburn. Got any more questions?”
“God, no!”
“Good.”
Mel got a bottle ready and while it was in the microwave, she went upstairs to dress. By the time that was accomplished, the baby started to stir. She changed her and picked her up and found herself saying, “Sweet Chloe, sweet baby…” If she and Mark had had a girl, she was to be Chloe. A boy would be Adam. What was she doing?
“But you have to be someone, don’t you?” she told the baby. When she was coming down the stairs, the baby swaddled and held against her shoulder, Jack was opening the front door. He was balancing a covered dish on his hand, a thermos tucked under his arm. “Sorry, Jack—you just missed him.”
“This is for you. Doc stopped by the bar and said I’d better get you some breakfast, that you were pretty cranky.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “I’m cranky, huh? He’s a giant pain in the ass! How do you put up with him?”
“He reminds me of my grandfather. How’d it go last night? She sleep?”
“She did very well. Only woke up a couple of times. I’m just about to feed her.”
“Why don’t I give her a bottle while you eat. I brought coffee.”
“Really, I didn’t know they made men like you,” she said, letting him follow her into the kitchen. When he put down the plate and thermos, she handed over the baby and tested the bottle. “You seem very comfortable with a newborn. For a man. A man with some nieces in Sacramento.” He just smiled at her. She passed him the bottle and got out two coffee mugs. “Ever married?” she asked him, then instantly regretted it. It was going to lead to him asking her.
“I was married to the Marine Corps,” he said. “And she was a real bitch.”
“How many years?” she asked, pouring coffee.
“Just over twenty years. I went in as a kid. How about you?”
“I was never in the marines,” she said with a smile.
He grinned at her. “Married?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes and lie, so she concentrated on the coffee mug. “I was married to a hospital, and my bitch was as mean as your bitch.” That wasn’t a total lie. Mark used to complain about the schedules they kept—grueling. He was in emergency medicine. He’d just finished a thirty-six hour shift when he stopped at the convenience store, interrupting the robbery. She shuddered involuntarily. She pushed a mug toward him. “Did you see a lot of combat?” she asked.
“A lot of combat,” he answered, directing the bottle into the baby’s mouth expertly.
“Somalia, Bosnia, Afghanistan, Iraq. Twice.”
“No wonder you just want to fish.”
“Twenty years in the marines will make a fisherman out of just about anyone.”
“You seem too young to have retired.”
“I’m forty. I decided it was time to get out when I got shot in the butt.”
“Ouch. Complete recovery?” she asked, then surprised herself by feeling her cheeks grow warm.
He lifted a corner of his mouth. “Except for the dimple. Wanna see?”
“Thanks, no. So, Doc left me in charge and I have no idea what to expect. Maybe you should tell me where the nearest hospital is—and do they provide ambulance service to the town?”
“That would be Valley Hospital—and they have ambulance service, but it takes so long to get here, Doc usually fires up his old truck and makes the run himself. If you’re desperate and have about an hour to spare, the Grace Valley doctors have an ambulance, but I don’t think I’ve seen an ambulance in this town since I’ve 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 to be 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.”
