“Hey,” she returned, standing up from the desk. “What brings you down here?”
“I don’t know if Paul or Vanni mentioned, I just heard about Doc. I had a few days off and wanted to deliver my condolences in person.”
“Thanks. He’s a hard one to lose.”
“How’s your search for a new doctor coming?” he asked.
“No response,” she said with a shrug. “But that’s not a surprise—we barely started looking. Plus, Hope’s been looking for a doctor to help Doc for years and no one ever responded. I was the closest thing and honestly, if I hadn’t had special circumstances, I might not have considered Virgin River, either.”
“Can I ask—about the special circumstances?”
“Sure,” she said. “How about a cup of coffee?”
“That’d be great,” he said with a smile.
“Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”
Shelby was in the kitchen, sitting at the table sorting some paperwork while the kids slept—one in a playpen, one in a portable crib. Mel poured coffee and invited Shelby to join them in Doc’s office so as not to wake the children. Once there, she introduced them, and Cameron expressed his condolences again.
“I’ve been boring Shelby with stories from my years in L.A.,” Mel said. “I was widowed when I met Jack. My husband was an E.R. doctor. We worked together for years before he was killed. I was looking for a new start, out of L.A. I found Virgin River at the nurses’ registry where I’d placed my résumé. I came here, sight unseen.”
“And found it perfect for you?” Cameron asked.
“Far from it,” she said. “The town was misrepresented, the pay miserable, the cabin that was to be my rent-free home was a falling-down hovel—but just as I was running for my life, a baby was abandoned on Doc’s porch and I stayed a while.” She shrugged. “I became attached in no time. Then I fell in love with Jack. Now I’m committed. Medicine here is a whole new scene from what I was used to in the city. It’s like taking care of family. These people are my friends. And of course, if Jack is here, I’m here.”
“But what’s it like doctoring here?” Cameron asked.
“We have to be inventive and flexible. Boy,” she said, laughing, “we could sure use a pediatrician, couldn’t we, Shelby?”
“Boy howdie, as Mel would say. The babies are flowing into this town.”
“I don’t like our chances of getting a new doctor, and I’ll be honest—I lose a lot of sleep over that. I don’t want to be their only resource if something big happens, like a bad MVA,” Mel said. “Sorry, Shelby,” she said. “That’s a motor vehicle accident.” Looking back at Cameron, she said, “Or some hunting accident. But this is no place for a doctor to prosper financially. A lot of our patient fees come from services and produce from ranches, farms and vineyards. More food than I could ever eat, less cash than it takes to get by. I’ve written a grant proposal to cover malpractice insurance. The county is covering mine—they see the merits of having a certified midwife around here. And if you can believe it, Doc was never covered. Never sued, never covered. He always figured if someone got pissed off and put him out of business, so be it.” She shrugged. “I’m hopeful that if a physician can be found, the county will step up. I’ve been contacting medical schools—offering a place for a brand-new family-practice resident to practice rural medicine—he or she could intern here under John Stone or June Hudson. If you know anyone…”
“I might,” he said. “I’ll talk it around.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when I lose Shelby.”
Cameron looked at the younger woman.
“I’m here temporarily,” Shelby said. “I cared for my mother who suffered from ALS for a long time and now, before I move on to my own nursing college, I’m staying with my Uncle Walt.”
“Walt Booth?” he asked.
“Uh-huh. I’m Vanni’s cousin.”
“From Bodega Bay,” he said. “Yeah, your name was mentioned.”
“No kidding? You know them?”
“I was introduced,” he said simply. “Nice people.”
“I can help Mel for a while longer, but I’ve been sending out my applications. Nursing is kind of a natural progression for me, given my years as a caregiver. It’s going to be hard,” she said. “I’ve been out of school and work for years.”