Shelter Mountain by Robyn Carr Read Free Book Online Page A

“There we go,” she said softly, snapping. She put the gown back up. Then she went to the other shoulder, slowly, gently, quickly getting the picture. One body part at a time; her back, her thighs, her arms, her chest above her breasts. Last, her face, and in that picture, Paige’s eyes were closed.
    After the pictures were taken, Mel asked for a complete medical history. “But with no last name. It’s only for medical purposes, so you can be treated if itbecomes necessary. After we’re done, you should lie down. Where would you like to go?”
    “What about Christopher?”
    “Maybe he’ll nap a little bit. Or we can keep an eye on him. Between us—my husband, me, Preacher, Doc—we can keep him occupied. Girl,” she said, “you have no idea what a piece of luck it was that you stumbled into Virgin River. This place doesn’t have so much by way of technology or shopping, but you won’t find a town with more heart.” She smiled. “Or better food.”
    “I don’t want to burden my problems on this little town,” she said miserably.
    “Well,” Mel said, gently touching her hand, “you would hardly be the first.”

Three
    J ack was behind the bar having coffee while one of his breakfast regulars was eating when Paige and Christopher came in. Paige stopped inside the door, looking across the room tentatively. Jack gave a small smile and a nod. “Preacher’s in the kitchen,” he said.
    She looked down as she walked past him into the kitchen. Jack gave her a few minutes, refilled Harv’s cup, then went to the kitchen. Preacher was alone; he’d just lifted a rack of glasses out of the dishwasher. “If you say it’s okay, she’s going to stay a couple of days. Till the kid feels better,” Preacher said.
    “Is that all it is?” Jack asked. “She in some trouble?”
    Preacher shrugged and put the rack on the counter.
    “You don’t know her, Preacher. Don’t know who did that to her face.”
    “I’m not worried about who, ” he said. “Jesus. I’d love to see who. ”
    “If you want her to stay, she stays. I’m just saying…”
    “This is your place,” Preacher said.
    “Do I make you feel like that? That it’s my place? Because—”
    “Nah,” Preacher said. “You’re good that way, even ifit really is your place. I just don’t want you to make her…them…feel bad about it.”
    “I won’t do that. Don’t screw with me. You know I consider us partners. This is your place, too. That’s your room.”
    “Okay, then.” Preacher took the rack of glasses out to the bar.
    Jack followed. “If you’re okay here, I’m going to step out.”
    “Sure.”
    “I’ll be right back,” Jack said.
    Jack walked across the street to Doc’s. There were no patients, but Doc and Mel were inside the front door where, behind the reception counter, Doc was sitting at the desk, eyes focused on the computer.
    Mel stood behind Doc, her hand on his shoulder. She looked up when Jack entered and inclined her head slightly, indicating he should come behind the counter. Her eyes were so troubled and angry, he went toward them. Mel glanced back at the computer screen.
    Jack had never done anything like this before; Mel had never pulled him into her medical business, even though confidentiality was as safe with Jack as with either of them. She didn’t confide medical issues with her husband because that was an ethic she was firm about.
    There on the screen were the pictures from the digital. Paige’s battered body was on display in many different angles. The bruises were astonishingly bad. If he saw bruises like that on Mel, it would be impossible for him to keep from killing someone.
    “Good God,” he said in a breath. He wondered if Preacher knew there was a lot more to his houseguest than a little bruise on her cheek.
    Mel looked up at her husband and saw the grim set ofhis jaw, the pulsing of a vein in his temple. His narrow eyes. “This goes no further,” she said.
    “Of course not.”
    “Do you