She could have this baby if she could find a way to conceal her pregnancy, or at least the time of conception. She had left Grants Pass, returned to Los Angeles, called a lawyer and signed the papers within a couple of weeks—but it was another month before she was a single woman—and a good OB could determine the due date extremely closely with the use of an ultrasound. Any doubt would send her to court, which would cost even more. Abby wasn’t a millionaire rock star, she was a flight attendant whose income was completely eaten up by her living expenses, her savings and equity in her small town house zapped by legal fees. She’d have to go into deep cover; she couldn’t even return to her family in Seattle to wait out the delivery.

She decided quickly. She was going to give birth, but no one would know about it until it was over and the baby, hopefully, a few months old at least.

When Paul Haggerty decided to relocate part of his construction company to Virgin River from Grants Pass, his mother’s only requirement was that he bring the grandchildren back to visit once a month. The only child since his union with Vanessa so far was little Matt, her son from her previous marriage, but to Marianne Haggerty, little Matt was as much her grandson as if he was Paul’s very own. And for Vanessa, these little trips to Paul’s family were a delightful respite. In fact, she used the trip to make sure Mattie had at least an afternoon with his biological grandparents, Carol and Lance Rutledge, as well.

On this particular early-November weekend, Matt wasn’t finding the visit quite as enjoyable as usual. He’d been teething and had developed diarrhea and a bad cold. When, on Saturday morning, a scary-sounding cough settled into his chest, Vanni and Paul were strongly considering a trip to the emergency room.

But Paul wanted the baby treated by a doctor he knew he could trust. On impulse, he picked up the phone and called Cam. “It’s Paul Haggerty, Cameron. Hey, man, I’m real sorry to bother you at home, but we’re visiting my folks here in town and the baby’s sick. He’s got a fever, diarrhea and an awful thick cough. Any chance you’re on call? Or maybe you could recommend someone for us to take him to?”

“I’m not busy, Paul. Bring the baby over to the office and let’s have a look,” Cameron said. “I’ll be there in half an hour to unlock the door.”

“Hey, man, you don’t know how much I appreciate this. I think Vanni’s getting herself worked up. Hell, what am I saying—I’m getting worked up.”

Cameron beat them to the peds office and when Vanni and Paul arrived with the baby, Vanni was tearing up from worry. “Hey now,” Cameron said, dropping an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s not get all upset until we know what to get upset about, huh? Hey, big fella,” he said, taking the baby out of her arms. “Wow, you’ve just about doubled in size!”

“Cameron, I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. “I was doing fine until he started coughing.” Right on cue, Mattie let go with a large, deep, gravelly cough that turned him red in the face.

Cameron put the baby on the exam table and listened to his chest first. He took his temperature, looked in his ears and throat, and palpated his chubby little body. “Is he still on the breast?” Cameron asked.

“A couple of times a day. Maybe three—morning, afternoon nap, bedtime.”

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do—he’s not going to love this. This could be croup. At least bronchitis. His color is still good and he isn’t having trouble breathing, but that crowlike barking cough is a dead giveaway. I’ll need an X-ray, but I’ll call ahead for you—I don’t want him sitting around a roomful of sick people, or infecting a roomful of people with sprained ankles. I’m going to give him antibiotics and a little oxygen before you leave here, and a nice big dose of baby Tylenol for the fever. You’re going to have to keep him on clear liquids—Pediolyte works. No breast milk, no formula, no juice, no food. Antibiotics tend to cause diarrhea and you’ve already got some of that going on—we don’t want to aggravate it. When you get home, I want you to spend a lot of time in a steamy shower to loosen up his chest. Do that as often as you can stand it.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Watch him closely. If he has trouble breathing at all or if his color takes on a bluish tint, call me to meet you in the E.R.—I’ll give you my cell number. But I think we caught it in time. Lots of clear liquids, Vanni. Tylenol every four hours. Do you know what to do if he spikes a high fever?”

“Cool bath?” she asked.

“Not cold, not warm. Tepid,” he said. “Don’t leave him in there long, just give him a nice dunk, run a cloth over his little body and dry him off. He’s only 101.4 now, before the Tylenol—not scary high for his age. If he gets close to 103, call me immediately. You should be able to keep it under control with regular Tylenol.”

Cameron dosed the baby from his drug cabinet. Then he hooked up the oxygen and, holding the baby on his lap, managed to get the cannulas in the baby’s nostrils despite his squirming. He held him while the oxygen drifted in and the baby calmed in his experienced hands. “When are you planning to head back to Virgin River?”

“We were going to go tomorrow afternoon,” Paul said.

“I’d like you to stick close until it’s clear he’s recovering. You don’t want to be out on the road and have this thing rear its ugly head. I can’t think of anything more likely to bring that on than hours on his back in a car seat. Attacks of croup tend to come in the night—you might not get much rest tonight or tomorrow night. Can you shoot for Tuesday for going back?”

“We’ll do whatever you say,” Paul said, slipping an arm around Vanni’s waist.

“Okay, if you don’t have to bring him back to me before, let me take a look at him, listen to his chest, on Tuesday morning. If it sounds good, you can hit the road. You should probably have Doc Mullins take a look when you get back to Virgin River. He’s probably treated a bucketful of croup in his years there.”

Paul and Vanni exchanged shocked looks, then turned those very expressions back to Cameron. “Jesus, Cameron, I’m sorry,” Paul said. “I guess you’d have no way of knowing—Doc Mullins died a little over a month ago.”

“What?” Cameron asked, surprised. “What happened?”

Paul shrugged. “Not entirely sure. Mel found him facedown on the clinic floor and tried to revive him with CPR, but he never came around. The new baby, little Emma, was lying on the floor right next to him, like maybe he’d been holding her when he had a heart attack or something.”

“Aw, Jesus,” Cameron said. “That’s awful. Emma?”

“Fine. Thank God.”

“How’s the town holding up?”

“Kinda shaky,” Paul said. “Mel’s doing her best at the clinic. Vanni’s cousin Shelby has been visiting for a while now and she’s going in to the clinic every day to help out with the kids, patients and paperwork. Docs Stone and Hudson from Grace Valley are taking the patients Mel can’t cover. But just going through Doc’s stuff—over forty years’ worth—has really taken its toll on Mel. She’s grieving and overworked—and little Emma is barely six months.”

“At least she’s got Shelby. For now,” Vanessa said. “But Shelby is just visiting. She was planning to leave after the holidays. God, Cameron, I’m sorry we didn’t think to call you.”

“Why would you, Vanni?” Cameron said. “I met the man once, talked with him for less than an hour. I got a big kick out of him in that short time and it was obvious he was a crackerjack small-town doc who cared about his people. Besides you two, we didn’t have any mutual friends. But damn, that’s a great loss for Virgin River.” Matt had drifted off in his arms and was breathing well, coughing less with the oxygen. “I’m so sorry to hear about it.”

“Mel has advertised for a new doctor for the town, but who’d want to come to a town that size? I have no idea what the pay is—I guess it’s whatever you get. I know Mel and Jack put a lot of produce, wine and meat in the bar from patients paying with what they get off the land.”

Cameron chuckled. “Sounds kind of nice, actually. It’s gotta beat wrangling with the insurance companies.”

Paul laughed. “That’s not a problem in Virgin River. Not many folks have medical coverage.”

Cameron put the stethoscope in his ears and listened briefly to Matt’s chest. “That’s a little better,” he said. He held the baby a while longer. “Please give my condolences to Mel,” he said. His eyes focused on the baby, he said, “Doc was a little snarly, but I bet he had a heart of gold.” Then he looked up at Vanessa and Paul and gave a little smile. “How are you two getting along?”

“Good,” Paul said. “I’m building in Virgin River. I’ve got a house under construction for Vanni in addition to a couple of other properties.” He kissed her temple. “I think Vanni can convince you she didn’t make a big mistake on me.”

She smiled at Paul, confirming that she was happy. “We’re still living with Dad,” she said. “But the house will be ready before Christmas—and it’s on Dad’s land so we’ll be close, but not too close.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“We’re starting to think about the next baby,” she said.

“You should. Get ’em while you can,” Cameron said.

“Paige delivered last summer, a little girl. Brie’s due around Christmas.”

“They just keep coming,” Cameron said, shaking his head with a chuckle.

“I’ve heard Virgin River is a fertile place,” Vanni said, laughing.

“You fish, Cameron?” Paul asked.

“I haven’t done much but doctor in a long time,” he said.

“Come on down and fish,” Paul invited. “Take a couple of days. I’ll take you out to the Virgin. The salmon are starting to run. The sturgeons fat.”

“Sounds nice. You fishing a lot?” Cameron asked.

“Nah. I’ve got houses going. But if you come down, I’ll knock off for a couple mornings—I have good supervisors now. Or I’ll send Jack out there with you. Jack loves any excuse to get out on the river.”

“I’ll think about that,” he said. He pulled the cannulas out of the baby’s nose. “Okay, now hear me on this, Vanessa. No matter how much he fusses, only clear liquids. If we don’t treat the diarrhea along with the upper-respiratory problems, he’ll dehydrate. And get in the steam, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, taking the baby from him. “What do we owe you?”

“Come on.” Cameron laughed. “How about a day out on the river?”

“Deal,” Paul said, smiling. He stuck out his hand. “You came in real handy, buddy. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this.”

“I’m glad you called me. This little guy needs to feel better.”

Cameron Michaels didn’t call anyone in Virgin River. He had three days off and just drove down. He went first to the clinic, walked in and found Mel at the computer. “Hey,” he said.

“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.”