nine ounces,” she reported. “Full term. Heartbeat and respirations normal. Color is good.” The baby started to wail. “Strong lungs. Somebody threw away a perfectly good baby. You need to get Social Services right out here.”
Doc gave a short laugh just as Jack came up behind him, looking into the room. “Yup, I’m sure they’ll be right out.”
“Well, what are you going to do?” she asked.
“I guess I’m going to rustle up some formula,” he said. “Sounds hungry.” He turned around and left the exam room.
“For the love of God,” Mel said, rewrapping and jiggling the baby in her arms.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Jack said. “This isn’t L.A. We don’t put in a call to Social Services and get an immediate house call. We’re kind of on our own out here.”
“What about the police?” she asked.
“There’s no local police. County sheriff’s department is pretty good,” he said. “Not exactly what you’re looking for, either, I bet.”
“Why is that?”
“If there’s not a serious crime, they would probably take their time,” he said. “They have an awful lot of ground to cover. The deputy might just come out and write a report and put their own call in to Social Services, which will get a response when they’re not overworked, underpaid, and can rustle up a social worker or foster family to take over this little…” He cleared his throat. “Problem.”
“God,” she said. “Don’t call her a problem,” she admonished. She started opening cupboard doors, unsatisfied. “Where’s the kitchen?” she asked him.
“That way,” he said, pointing left.
“Find me towels,” she instructed. “Preferably soft towels.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to wash her.” She left the exam room with the baby in her arms.
Mel found the kitchen, which was large and clean. If Jack was delivering the doctor’s meals, it probably wasn’t used that much. She tossed the dish rack onto the floor in the corner and gently laid the baby on the drain board. Under the sink she found cleanser and gave the sink a quick scrub and rinse. Then she tested the temperature and filled the sink with water while the baby, most annoyed at the moment, filled the kitchen with the noise of her unhappiness. Fortuitously, there was a bar of Ivory soap on the sink, which Mel rinsed off as thoroughly as possible.
Rolling up her sleeves, she lifted the naked little creature into her arms and lowered her into the warm water. The cries stopped. “Aw,” she said. “You like the bath? Does it feel like home?”
Doc Mullins came into the kitchen, dressed now, with a canister of powdered formula. Behind him trailed Jack, bearing the towels he was asked to fetch.
Mel gently rubbed the soap over the baby, rinsing off the muck of birth, the warmth of the water hopefully bringing the baby’s temperature up. “This umbilicus is going to need some attention,” she said. “Any idea who gave birth?”
“None whatsoever,” Doc said, pouring bottled water into a measuring bowl.
“Who’s pregnant? That would be a logical place to start.”
“The pregnant women in Virgin River who have been coming here for prenatal visits wouldn’t give birth alone. Maybe someone came from another town. Maybe I’ve got a patient out there who gave birth without the benefit of medical assistance, and that could be the second crisis of the day. As I’m sure you know,” he added, somewhat smugly.
“As I’m sure I do,” she returned, with equal smugness. “So, what’s your plan?”
“I imagine I will diaper and feed and become irritable.”
“I think you mean more irritable.”
“I don’t see many options,” he said.
“Aren’t there any women in town who could help out?”
“Perhaps on a limited basis.” He filled a bottle and popped it in the microwave. “I’ll manage, don’t you worry.” Then he added, somewhat absently, “Might not hear her in the night, but she’ll live through it.”
“You have to find a home for this baby,” she said.
“You came here looking for work. Why don’t you offer to help?”
She took a deep breath and, lifting the baby from the sink, laid her in the towel being held by Jack. She cocked her head in appreciation as Jack took the infant confidently, wrapping her snugly and cuddling her close. “You’re pretty good at that,” she said.
“The nieces,” he said, jiggling the baby against his broad chest. “I’ve held a baby or two. You going to stay on a bit?” he asked.
“Well, there are problems with that idea. I have nowhere to stay. That cabin is not only unacceptable for me, it’s more unacceptable for this infant. The porch collapsed, remember? And there are no steps to the back door. The only way in is to literally crawl.”
“There’s a room upstairs,” Doc said. “If you stay and help out, you’ll be paid.” Then he looked at her over the rims of his reading glasses and sternly added, “Don’t get attached to her. Her mother will turn up and want her back.”
Jack went back to the bar and placed a call from the kitchen. A groggy, thick voice answered. “Hello?”
“Cheryl? You up?”
“Jack,” the woman said. “That you?”
“It’s me. I need a favor. Right away.”
“What is it, Jack?”
“Weren’t you asked to clean that McCrea cabin for the nurse coming to town?”
“Uh… Yeah. Didn’t get to it though. I had… I think it was the flu.”
It was the Smirnoff flu, he thought. Or even more likely, the Everclear flu—that really evil 190-proof pure grain alcohol. “Can you do it today? I’m going out there to repair the porch and I need that place cleaned. I mean, really cleaned. She’s here and is staying with Doc for now—but that place has to be whipped into shape. So?”
“You’re going to be there?”
“Most of the day. I can call someone else. I thought I’d give you a crack at it first, but you have to be sober.”
“I’m sober,” she insisted. “Totally.”
He doubted it. He expected she would have a flask with her as she cleaned. But the risk he was taking, and it was not a pleasant risk, was that she would do it for him, and do it very well if it was for him. Cheryl had had a crush on him since he hit town and found excuses to be around him. He tried very hard never to give her any encouragement. But despite her struggle with alcohol, she was a strong woman and good at cleaning when she put her mind to it.
