“He does more than a lot of people would do,” Jack said.
She smiled. “This is rough country.”
“It can be,” he said.
“Not a lot of resources out here.”
“We do pretty well with what we’ve got. But you have to remember, the old boys in that little camp don’t seem to want resources so much as to be left alone,” he said. “I know that’s hard to stomach, but most of this area is the opposite—thriving and healthy. Did that trip out into the woods make your desire to get out of here even more desperate?”
“It sure opened my eyes. I thought small-town medicine would be peaceful and sweet. I never thought it had that other side—as hopeless as some of our worst inner city problems.”
“Don’t know that it is,” he argued. “The sweet and peaceful will far outnumber the hopeless. I swear on it. You’re welcome to see for yourself and call me a liar. But you’d have to hang around.”
“I made a commitment to stay till the baby is placed,” she said. “I’m sorry I can’t promise more.”
“No promises necessary. Just pointing out the options.”
“But thank you, for taking care of the baby for me.”
“She’s a good baby,” he said. “I didn’t mind at all.”
After she’d gone back to Doc’s, Jack said to Preacher, “You okay here? I’m thinking about a beer.”
Preacher’s bushy black brows shot up in surprise, but he didn’t say it. Didn’t say, “Another beer? So soon?” He finally said, “I’m okay here.”
Jack knew that if he didn’t say anything at all to Charmaine for a few weeks, she wouldn’t know there was anything to be said. He also knew that despite the fact Mel had captured his thoughts, it didn’t mean anything would ever happen, didn’t mean she’d make it even another week in Virgin River. That wasn’t really the point. The issue was that it was wrong to go to Charmaine at all, ever, if he wasn’t into Charmaine. It was a point of honor with him. Even though he never thought in terms of commitment, he certainly didn’t think in terms of using someone.
Then there was another matter. A fear that he’d be having sex with Charmaine and behind his closed eyes, see another face. That couldn’t happen. That would insult both women.
When she saw him walk into her tavern, her first reaction was one of pleased surprise and she smiled at him. Then she immediately realized how unprecedented this visit was and her smile vanished.
“Beer?” she asked him.
“Talk?” he answered. “Can Butch cover for you for ten minutes?”
She actually took a step back. She knew what was coming and sadness seeped into her brown eyes. Her face actually fell. “Is that all it’s going to take?” she asked. “Ten minutes?”
“I think so. There isn’t too much to say.”
“There’s someone else,” she said at once.
“No. There isn’t. Let’s take a table.” He looked over his shoulder. “That one over there. Ask Butch.”
She nodded and turned from him. While she spoke to Butch, Jack moved to the table. Butch took the bar and Charmaine joined Jack. He reached across and took her hands. “You’ve been a wonderful friend to me, Charmaine. I never for one second took that for granted.”
“But…”
“My mind is on other things,” he said. “I won’t be coming to Clear River for a beer anymore.”
“There can only be one thing,” she said. “Because I know you. And you have needs.”
He’d thought about this long and hard on the way over, and it wasn’t in his mind to lie to her. But there wasn’t anyone else. Mel wasn’t someone else—and might never be. Just because she’d taken over his consciousness didn’t mean it would ever materialize into something more. She might stick to her word and leave Virgin River at the first opportunity, and even if she didn’t, you don’t show your hand this early in the game. His reason for breaking this off wasn’t just about having Mel, but about not misleading Charmaine. She was a good woman; she had been good to him. She didn’t deserve to be strung along while he waited to see what the other woman was going to do.
The cabin in Virgin River might be ready, but Mel sure wasn’t. The baby at Doc’s was keeping her in town for now, but it was impractical to think of her caring for Chloe out at the cabin—there was only the one Plexiglas incubator, no car seat for traveling back and forth, no phone. Of course, it was no punishment to have her living right across the street. But he wanted her in the cabin he’d renovated, he wanted that real bad.
Charmaine was so right—he had needs. But somehow when he looked at this young Mel, he knew it would never be like this—an arrangement for sex every couple of weeks. Jack had absolutely no idea what it might become, but he already knew it was going to be more than that. He had a very long history of not getting hooked up, so this disturbed him. The chances were real good he was casting adrift in a sea of sheer loneliness. Because Mel had complications. He had no idea what they were, but that occasional sadness in her eyes came out of the past, something she was trying to get over.
But he wanted her. He wanted all of her; he wanted everything with her.
“That’s the thing,” he said. “I have needs. And right now I think what I need is completely different from what I’ve needed in the past. I could easily keep coming here, Charmaine. I sure don’t suffer, you’re awful good to me. But the past two years when I’ve been here, I’ve been here completely. It shouldn’t be any other way.”
“The last time was different,” she said. “I knew something was wrong.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s really the first time my head wasn’t connected to my body. You deserve better than that.”
She lifted her chin and gave her hair a toss. “What if I said I didn’t care?”
God, he felt so bad doing this. “I do,” was all he could say.
She got teary. “Okay, then,” she said bravely. “Okay, then.”
When he left he knew it was going to be a while before he felt all right about what he’d just done. That business about playing it fast and loose, about having no ties or commitments, that wasn’t really how it was. All that no commitment bullshit meant was that you didn’t talk about it, you never took it to the next level. He had had a contract of sorts with Charmaine, even if it wasn’t a formal one, a legal one, even if it was pretty casual in the give-and-take department. She had stuck to the contract; he had just broken it. And let her down.
Five
In the mornings, after the baby had that first really early feeding and was settled back to sleep, Mel liked to take her coffee out to Doc’s front porch and sit on the steps. She found she enjoyed watching this little town wake up. First the sun would create a kind of golden path through the tall pine trees onto the street, slowly lighting it. The sound of doors opening and closing could be heard. A Ford truck drove slowly from the east to the west down the street, tossing out papers—the Humboldt News. She liked getting the paper early—though it was hardly akin to the L.A. Times.