Virgin River by Robyn Carr Read Free Book Online

concern at the moment was making sure the infant wasn’t ill or in need of emergency medical assistance. She put the box on the exam table, shed her coat and washed her hands. There was a stethoscope on the counter, so she found cottonand rubbing alcohol. She cleaned the earpieces with the alcohol—her own stethoscope was packed in the car. She listened to the baby’s heart. Further inspection revealed it was a little girl, her umbilicus tied off with string. Gently, tenderly, she lifted the baby from the box and cooing, lay her on the baby scale.
    By this time the doctor was in the room. “Six pounds, 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 andwrite 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, rinsingoff 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