…Jack wasn't there to stop the attacker?

Mel is lost in thought as she enters the kitchen and begins rinsing out the coffee pot. She is startled by the sound of the backdoor opening, and she spins around to see a strange man standing there, a crazed expression in his eyes.

He asks for drugs, something she knows they do not have on the premises. Her mind reels as she tries to think of something they do have that might appease him, or at least knock him out. He reaches for the knife on the counter and she puts her hands up, backing slowly away from him.

"We don't have what you want," she tells him.

"You're a lying bitch, I'll kill you!" he says, lunging for her. She screams as they struggle, and he wraps his forearm around her neck, keeping her in a choke hold, the knife poised at her throat. "Show me where the drugs are, and I'll let you live."

Mel is shaking with fear as she points in the direction of the locked cabinet that Doc stores all of the medications that they keep in the clinic. He walks them forward, his body pressed up firmly against hers. He pushes himself into her, breathing into her ear, "Get me the drugs, and then maybe you and I will have a little fun.

A wave of nausea passes over Mel as she nervously fumbles with the keys to the cabinet, her hands shaking as she tries to open it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"I'm in love with her, man," Jack tells Preacher, and his friend nods in understanding. Jack thinks for a moment at how easily he admitted this to his friend, and his thoughts drift back to Mel. He missed her while she was away, and he realized that he didn't want to be without her. He stands and gets his coat and car keys, deciding to go and see her.

The cabin is dark when he drives up, and her car isn't in the driveway. He tries texting her, but she doesn't reply. Frowning, he gets back into his truck and wonders if maybe she might be working late tonight. When he arrives at the clinic he is relieved to see her car parked outside. He heads to the front door and knocks, but it is locked. "Mel?" he calls when there is no answer.

"Jack!" he hears her voice calling him from inside, and he can tell by her tone that something is very wrong. He takes a few steps backward and charges the front door, hitting it open with his shoulder.

"Mel?" he calls, scanning the rooms for her.

"Jack!" she calls again, and he tracks her voice to Doc's office. He finds her there, lying on the floor, blood dripping from her head, her shirt torn and bloody. He rushes to her side, kneeling on the floor beside her.

"What happened?" he asks, looking over her frantically. He grabs his cell phone and immediately calls Doc, who says he'll be right over.

"A man came in through the backdoor. I forgot to lock it. He wanted drugs. He had a knife. He said he was going to kill me. He said he would…" she trails off, gesturing to her lower half.

Jack feels a flash of anger so powerful it almost knocks him over. "He pushed me to the floor, and I bumped my head. His eye was injured so I got my hand free and I scratched at him. He must have gotten scared and run away."

"Did he hurt you?" Jack asks as she sits up. "Oh Mel, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you."

"It isn't your fault," she insists. "It isn't your job to protect me."

He doesn't say anything, just watches her as she grimaces while trying to stand up. He offers a hand to her which she accepts gratefully. "It's no big deal," she tells him as she walks into the kitchen, grabbing a broom to start cleaning up the broken glass from the coffee carafe.

"Let me get that," he says, reaching for the broom. "You should sit down. Doc is on his way and he is going to check you."

"Jack, that's not necessary," she replies, "I'm fine."

"You're covered in blood!" he exclaims.

"Yes, but some of it isn't mine," she replies. He continues sweeping and is almost finished when Doc enters.

"I called the Sheriff," he tells them as he looks over at Mel. "Now come on over here and go sit on the exam table, we need to take a look at that head injury of yours."

"It's fine, really," she says again, but he shakes his head, pointing in the direction of the examination room. She sighs but does as she is told.

Doc cleans and checks the wound on her head, and luckily, she doesn't need any stitches. He shines a light into her eyes and asks her a few questions about how she is feeling. "I'm trying to see if she has a concussion," he explains to Jack. "That was a pretty nasty bump. I'd like to hold you overnight for observation," he says to Mel.

"No," she replies. "I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed," she says, her voice pleading.

"I can take her home and stay with her," Jack offers, and Doc nods in agreement.

"Now, you know the drill," Doc says to Mel. "Don't go to sleep just yet, until we can be sure that you don't have a concussion. If anything seems off, you call me." Doc pulls Jack aside, explaining to him the signs to look for, and Jack walks Mel toward the door. "I'll have my phone right next to me all night," he reminds them both. They thank him, and Jack helps Mel into his truck.

"You know," she says to him, "You don't have to do this. I really am fine."

"I know," he says softly, looking at her. "This is as much for me as it is for you. I need to know that you're safe." Their eyes lock for a moment before he looks down, starting the truck and heading in the direction of the cabin.

They drive in silence, Jack's brain swirling with thoughts of anger and revenge. He knows he will not rest until he finds out who did this to her. The idea of someone else even putting their hands on her fills him with rage.

"You didn't recognize him?" he asks quietly as they pull up in front of the cabin.

"No," she says.

"Doc called the sheriff," Jack says. "So tomorrow he'll probably want to ask you a few questions. But I think you should take it easy tonight."

He opens the door to the truck and steps out, walking around to her side to help her. She holds his hand for balance but releases it as they walk up the path to the cabin. She opens the door, and they step inside, hanging up their coats by the door. Jack moves to light the fireplace, and she heads toward her dresser.

"I'm just going to change," she tells him as she gathers up a shirt and pants and disappears into the bathroom.

Jack is unsure of what to do. Should he sit in a chair and watch her sleep? Should he keep her up all night just talking to her? His concern for her overshadows every rational thought. He just wants to be close to her, comfort her.

She emerges from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. She looks at him awkwardly standing by the fireplace. "Can I get you anything?" she asks.

"No, I'm ok," he says. "So, Doc says I need to keep you up for a little while at least," he begins.

"Yeah," she says, grabbing a blanket and heading toward the sofa. She sits down, beckoning him to sit beside her, and spreads the blanket over their laps.

He gazes at her intently. "What?" she asks, unnerved by the intensity of his stare.

"It's just that," he begins, taking a deep breath, "If anything ever happened to you, I don't know what I would do."

"Jack," she whispers, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thank you for staying with me."

"You're welcome," he says, giving her hand a squeeze back. They stare at each other for a moment before he clears his throat. "Do you think it could have been one of Calvin's guys?" he asks.

"It's possible," Mel answers. "Or it could have been someone passing through town. I don't really think he intended to hurt me, just that he was desperate to get what he wanted. Once I fought back, he panicked." She runs her thumb lightly over the back of his hand. "I should have locked the back door."

"It's not your fault," he replies. "You shouldn't have to worry about things like that here. You should feel safe."

"I do with you here," she says softly.

"I wanted to thank you," he says, "For your help with Charmaine. I know she hasn't made things easy for you."

Mel pulls her hand away, not meeting his gaze. "You're welcome," she replies. She is silent for a moment, clearly deep in thought. "You know I don't know what I would do if I lost you, either."

"Mel," he says, leaning towards her.

"That's why it's easier if we just stay friends," she explains.

"Easier for who?" he replies. "Because it isn't easier for me."

Something in his voice causes her to turn and look at him. "It isn't easier for me, either," she admits quietly. Their eyes lock, and she feels the way she always feels whenever she is near him, like some invisible force is pulling them together. She leans forward slightly, and he takes this as an invitation, brushing his lips against hers lightly. He kisses her gently before leaning back, running his fingers over her jaw. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him, allowing him to hold her.

"I'm going to find whoever did this to you," he says quietly, and she sits up so that she can look at him.

"No, Jack," she replies. "I'm really ok. He was just some addict strung out on drugs. I don't think he'll be back."

The image of her torn clothing flashes through his mind and he frowns, "I hate that someone did this to you. It could have been so much worse, Mel. He could have forced himself on you. He could have killed you. I can't do nothing. Just the idea of it makes me so angry…"

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. She snuggles back into his side. "I know," she whispers. Her hands are fidgeting in her lap, drawing his attention to the new purplish bruises now forming on her arms. His hands clench into fists.

"It's ok, Jack," she says quietly, seemingly able to read his mind. He kisses the spot just above the bandage on her forehead. "I am safe now."

He can tell that she is exhausted, but she needs to stay up a little while longer. He knows he is going to need to keep the conversation going.

"I'm really glad you came back to Virgin River," he says. "I missed you when you were gone."

"I missed you, too," she admits, smiling a little. "You know Hope told me that you were out of sorts while I was in L.A. and I'm really sorry that I left without telling you. Charmaine being pregnant brought up a lot of feelings that I wasn't prepared to handle."

"And now?" he questions.

"And now I'm realizing that L.A. doesn't feel like home anymore to me. Home is right here, with you, in your arms. It's the only place where I feel like I can breathe."

He stills his movements, unsure of how to respond to this revelation. "I feel the same way about you," he admits quietly. She tilts her head up and kisses him lightly at first before deepening the kiss. He lets out a low moan in the back of his throat. He can't help it. He has missed her so much. She breaks the kiss after a few minutes, leaning her head against his and breathing heavily. He knows that as much as he wants her, tonight is not the night, with her being injured.

"Will you stay with me? Hold me?" she asks tentatively, looking at him through her eyelashes and biting her lip nervously, which does nothing to quell his desire for her.

"Of course," he replies. Because he would do anything for her.

"You can make yourself comfortable," she tells him, rising to stand and walking over to the bed. She gets in, pulling the blankets over her and looking at him expectantly. "Come here," she says, lifting her arms to him.

He complies, grateful that his jeans are somewhat concealing his obvious arousal for her as he walks over to the bed and climbs into the other side. She immediately moves toward him, curling her body into his side and laying her head on his chest. Eventually, he hears her breathing even out, and he knows that she is asleep.

He stays very still, not wanting to wake her as he watches her sleep, feeling a wave of contentment just being close to her. Words like 'forever' and 'always' flit through his mind, and he is again in awe of the affect this woman has on him. She is unlike anyone else he has ever met. He presses a gentle kiss to her temple, vowing to always keep her happy and safe.