“You hunt?” Mel asked, trying to keep the shock from her voice.
“You hunt?” Jack asked, grinning.
“Waterfowl. Duck and geese.”
“Jack shoots deer.”
“I could try that,” she said. “But you can’t use dogs for that and I love working the dogs. I’ve always had a dog.” She squinted at Mel. “You look familiar.”
“We met once. I don’t expect you would remember me—first of all it was years ago. But I lived in L.A. before moving up here and we went to the same day spa for a while. I saw you there a couple of times. I think we might’ve had the same aesthetician.” Jack was frowning in total confusion again. “Facials,” she told him.
“Fantastic,” Muriel said. “Who do you use around here?”
“Well, there are some decent beauty shops in Fortuna and Eureka, but probably not what you’re used to. Nothing here in Virgin River.” Mel glanced at Muriel’s perfect nails. “You’re going to go a long way for a good manicure.”
Muriel followed her eyes. “I can kiss these goodbye. I’m going to be busy redecorating.”
“Really? You’re planning to do some of it yourself?”
“Most of it,” she said rather proudly, lifting her chin. “What brought you up here?”
“Ah, long story. I was looking for a change. I was a nurse-practitioner and midwife in L.A. and took a job here—population just over six hundred. It was supposed to be for a year, but Jack got me knocked up.”
“We are married,” he said, shaking his head at her. “Tell the woman you’re happy about that, Melinda.”
“Perfectly happy. Jack worked out.” She grinned.
“Muriel has the ranch just across the pasture from the Booth place. About six miles by car, or a mile and a half down the river on a horse.”
“Oh, fantastic. You’re going to love that family,” Mel said. “Walt’s a retired general with a couple of grown kids and a new grandson. Great people. In fact, Virgin River is a whole town of really nice people. I’ll look forward to introducing you around.”
“That’s real nice of you.”
“Mind you,” Mel continued, “once Madge and Beatrice over there get on the phone, formal introductions won’t be necessary. Maybe we should put them out of their misery. Would you like to go over and say hi before they go into shock?”
“Lovely,” Muriel said.
“Ah, wait a second,” Jack said. “Are we going to have a lot of those reporters and photographers around here?”
“Paparazzi?” Muriel asked. “I highly doubt it. I’m old news. The wild, half-dressed young girls are keeping them very busy these days.” And then she flashed him a dazzling smile.
With Tom at Brenda’s, and Vanni gone to Grants Pass with Paul for a few days, Walt faced two choices for dinner—throw a piece of meat on the grill, or get something at Jack’s. He got in the car.
There were about ten people in the bar when Walt arrived, all of them sitting at tables except Doc, who was up at the bar. Walt joined him there, leaving one stool to separate them. Doc and Walt merely nodded at each other; Doc wasn’t usually given to deep conversation. Jack grinned at Walt and slapped down a napkin. “Well, now. What can I do for you, sir?”
Walt peered at the empty baby pack Jack was wearing. “Lose a rider, son?”
“David’s off being ‘refreshed,’” Jack said with a laugh.
“How about a beer while you tell me what Preacher’s got cooking tonight?”
Jack drew the draft and put it in front of him. “Sunday special—pot roast. I don’t know what the man uses for seasoning, but it’s so damn good. And the gravy’s almost like tar, it’s so dark. He cooked it with vegetables but he’s serving whipped potatoes on the side. They’re like silk.”
“Perfect,” Walt said, lifting his beer.
“You want takeout for the family?”
“Just me tonight. Vanni’s gone up to Oregon with Paul for a few days, and I don’t rate much time with Tom while he’s on Brenda’s dance card.”
“Oregon?” Jack said with a lift of his brow. “You don’t say? What do you suppose they’ll find to do in Oregon?”
Walt smiled at him. “Funny.”
Jack chuckled. “Sounds like maybe some things got sorted out. This mean we won’t be seeing too much of that nice Dr. Michaels around here?”