What We Find (10 page)

“Did we rock the tent?” she asked.

“Who cares? I don’t care. I’d be happy to rock this camper all night, entertain the neighbors.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t stay all night. The bed is too small, for one thing.”

“You can stay a little while, till I get a second wind. I’m not like some people, on a hair trigger and able to throw out an orgasm a minute. That’s a very neat trick, by the way. I bet I enjoyed that as much as you did.”

“Highly doubtful,” she said. She rubbed her hands over his shoulders. “You’re very good at that, like a man with tons of practice. Lucky for you I have to stay right here until my bones grow back.”

“We came together like old pros,” he pointed out. “Like lovers with a routine. I love that. It’s kind of kismet, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she muttered. She ran her hands over his chest. “You’re so smooth. I never saw this coming...”

“You didn’t?” he asked. “The second I saw you I knew we’d end up like this. Waiting for you was hard.” He moved a little inside her. “It’s hard again...”

“You don’t have to wait now, Caleb,” she said.

Every man has a property in his own person.
This nobody has a right to but himself.

—John Locke

Chapter 6

Maggie had no idea how long Sully had been up when she finally rolled
out of bed at seven thirty....on about four hours of sleep. She stumbled to the bathroom and purposely didn’t look in the mirror, a little afraid she’d see Cal’s brand on her. She started the shower and got in while it was still cold.

Holy mother of pearl, what a night that was. He was an amazing lover. But also, he was such a sweet, smart, funny man. Of course he had to be some strange duck who was taking six months off to do odd jobs and camp. He couldn’t be some ordinary, stable, reliable person, like a truck driver or forest ranger. But then, what type of man did she think she could have a comfortable fit with? Sergei, the Ukrainian artist, had been a disaster. Andrew, the doctor, should’ve worked—they had so many things in common—and it had been a worse disaster.

Even running her own hands over her body as she sudsed up in the shower brought delicious tinglings from the night before, little shudders of aftershocks.

When she was out of the shower she braved it, looked in the mirror. Her cheeks were either flushed or chafed from Cal’s beard. Her lips were rosy from hours of kissing, sometimes so wildly she could hardly catch her breath. She lost control more times than she could count and she was pretty sure she bit him once. His fault, really. He could drive her so far into ecstasy she lost her bearings and became nothing more than a writhing body responding to a powerful force and lost all sense. She wondered if she just rocked and wailed in that little pop-up all the damn night. For all she knew the other campers brought their folding chairs over to Cal’s site and created an audience. At least it had been Sunday night, the weekend warriors gone, the population down.

She put lotion on her face and some lip gloss, blew out her hair and got dressed. She was going to have to think of what to say to Sully. She’d never faced that before—worry over explaining to her father. She’d had a fling or six at the crossing, and there was Andrew—she’d never explained him. She had just said they were seeing each other and they’d be staying in one of the cabins. Something about this was different. It was probably because he’d had a heart attack, she thought. Or it could be because she hardly knew Calvert, the handsome, good-natured bum and princess molester. Better go easy on Sully.

Funny, this had never been an issue. Until she was out of pre-med, aged twenty-two, she’d been very careful with her behavior around Sully. He was so proud of her, she hadn’t wanted to disappoint him. Then that summer before med school, self-designated as an independent adult, she had a little summer romance at the crossing. He was a biology teacher on summer break, living in his RV for several weeks, studying the flora in the Rockies, and she flirted with him. He flirted with her. They were drawn by common interests and lust and she stayed out all night a few times, cozy in his RV.

Sully had said nothing. Nothing at all. It was as if they’d come to the mutual understanding that it was time for her to lead her own adult life, take responsibility for her actions without his guidance or interference. Silent acceptance.

She found him on the porch with Frank, having coffee and a not very heart-healthy pastry. But she’d been out most of the night and had therefore relinquished the right to comment on his diet choice.

She got a cup of coffee and sat down. “How’d you sleep, Sully?”

“Slept like a rock. Didn’t even hear you come in at three thirty.”

“That was subtle,” she said. Like she really needed Frank in on this.

“Mail run yesterday brought in four packages,” Sully said. “They’re for thru-hikers, so it’s starting. Cal’s in the storeroom moving things around and getting ready for some restocking, making room for the packages that are going to start coming in now—hikers on the trail are moving this way now that the snowpack is melting.”

“Oh.” She sipped her coffee.

“I’d be in there working, but I’m taking it one step at a time. Some of those boxes weigh forty pounds.”

“I’m glad you’re not doing that.”

“You know more about the post office end of things than Cal. Can you go check and see if he’s making sense of the storeroom? Looked like he was doing okay, but...”

“When did he get here?”

“Around six thirty, I think.”

Show
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off
, she thought. “You give him a raise or something?” she asked.

“Funny. Jackson is starting this afternoon. I’m going to use him Saturday, Monday, Tuesday and then his sister, Nikki, Friday, Sunday and Thursday. No extra help on Wednesdays. Sounds decent, doesn’t it?”

“Doesn’t Tom usually show up on Wednesdays?”

“For cleanup around the grounds,” Sully said. “That’s going to get more important as spring ripens. Few more weeks and I’ll be doing it mostly on my own.”

She wasn’t so sure he’d ever be as active as he once was. It wasn’t just the surgery, it was the surgery plus being seventy. “I’ll go check on Cal,” she said, taking her coffee with her to the storeroom.

When hikers planned to take on one of the long trails like the Colorado or Continental Divide Trail, meticulous planning was required. They couldn’t carry a lot of water with them—water is heavy. They had to know precisely where they could get fresh water along the trail. And they had to try to plan strategic stopping points. They could camp along the trail for four to as many as ten nights if there was plentiful water along the way, but they couldn’t carry enough nourishment or changes of clothing for longer than that. They would plot their trek by towns and campgrounds like the crossing. At the crossing they could get showers, wash clothes, pick up parcels they’d mailed ahead as well as packages sent to them by friends or family. They’d meet with other hikers, share news, drink a few beers, grill some burgers and load up on protein. They’d charge their phones, check their email. They exchanged more than news—sometimes they’d trade off equipment or supplies to both lighten their load and pick up items they needed. They often exchanged books—Sully had a shelf set aside for that. Long-distance hikers didn’t carry more than one book at a time. They’d also do some shopping for anything they’d used up, lost or forgotten—batteries, first-aid items, lighters for campfires, protein snacks, water-purification kits.

She walked into the storeroom where Cal was stacking boxes containing food and supply items on one side of the room and leaving some shelves empty to give their postal items more space.

“Sully said you were here at six thirty this morning,” she said.

He turned toward her with a very large smile. His eyes were a little sleepy. Sexy and satisfied. He took her coffee cup out of her hand, placed it on the shelf and pulled her closer. “And I think your complexion has cleared up,” she added.

He kissed her. Long and lovingly. Yes, this guy was a little gift. She would try not to fantasize spending every night of her life getting trimmed up like she had last night.

“I have to rent a cabin,” he said when he released her.

“Oh? And why is that? I thought you liked the tent.”

“I think we weakened the struts that hold up the sides last night. And I want to stretch out a little bit.”

“How soon will you be checking in, sir?”

“By this afternoon,” he said. “They have a bathroom, shower, etc., right?”

“They do. But we’re coming into our busy season, so I don’t think a free cabin is in your future, even though I have a feeling I’d somehow benefit.”

His lips quirked in a superior smile. “I’m capable of paying my way. Didn’t I explain that?”

“I wasn’t sure whether to believe you,” she explained.

He cocked his head. “I don’t think you got enough sleep. You could thank me for melting your bones last night but never mind, let me play the gentleman. I’ll thank you. I see your talent extends far beyond the operating room. You are a riot in bed. Thank you. I’ve never felt better.” He laughed. “God, you’re blushing.”

“I think it’s whisker burn,” she said.

“Even better,” he said, laughing. “Now, can you get me a cabin or do I have to go through the boss?”

“Oh, please don’t,” she begged. “Bad enough that he heard me stumble to my room at three thirty.”

“I need some time off after I finish in the storeroom and stocking shelves. I have a few errands. But since I’m going to town, want me to cook for you and Sully tonight? I’d like to.”

“That would be very neighborly. Would you like to borrow a kitchen?”

“Nah, I’ll make do. But tell me about these hikers?”

“On their way, it seems. When the parcels start coming we know they’re marching up the divide. They don’t like to hit the Colorado border before the first of May but they start sending stuff before they begin.”

“Are there big groups of them?”

She shook her head. “Very rarely. There might be a couple or few together, but mostly individuals. Sometimes they meet along the way and begin to watch for each other.”

“How many?” he asked.

“How many hikers? Hundreds, but they’re not all long-distance hikers. The number that will spend six months on the CDT are relatively few, but they all plot their own course. They might hike for a few days or a few weeks or maybe just through Colorado. Some get on the CDT on the Mexican border and head north, some hit the trail as far away as Banff to head south and there’s every possibility in between. All through summer you’ll see them. They get off the trail at different points—we have about five foot-and cattle paths and a north-south road all converging here. They usually get off the trail just five miles north or south and march up the road. Every once in a while some crazy fool comes down that footpath behind the house from the Hallelujah Trail straight down from the Rockies.”

“Hallelujah?” he asked.

“It’s a demanding trip around and down the peaks. It used to be called Dead Man’s Trail but that was bad for business.” Then she smiled. “Rock climbers love that area.”

“I bet people get in trouble out there,” he said.

“For the most part it’s inexperienced people, people who haven’t prepared, who run into trouble. But there’s always the random accident or illness. It’s very isolated. Sometimes they sit for a long time until another hiker can get word to first responders—rangers or fire and rescue. Occasionally, someone gets lost and search and rescue goes out. There’s a lot of federal land out here, fire stations, forest service, public land that’s remote. Then there’s wildfires, avalanches, floods. And the odd wildlife issues.”

“I’m going to have to get out there pretty soon,” he said. “As soon as I’m sure I’ll be warm.”

“You’ve said that all along,” she said. “I’m going to hate that day. For obvious reasons.”

He grinned his wicked grin. “That’s very flattering, Maggie. That day is not coming too soon. Also for obvious reasons,” he added.

“It would be kind of you to at least let me get tired of you.”

“But, Maggie. What if you never do?”

She just sighed. The one thing you always secretly hope for can become your biggest fear.

“Any special requests for dinner?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Something very lean, please. Sully’s eating a pastry.”

* * *

Maggie’s cell phone, left at the house, was beeping with a message. Her primary attorney, Steve Rubin, asked that she call him.

Her heart beat a little faster as she prayed.
Please let it be news that the lawsuit is dropped!

“How are you doing, Maggie? How’s your dad?”

“He’s good, Steve. What’s up?”

“Well, it looks like we’re going to trial. It should be in about a month. Maybe two.”

“Crap,” she said. “Crap, crap, crap!”

“I don’t see this as terrible news. In fact, it will look better for you if you win this one rather than settling. I know it’s a little traumatic but our case is looking strong. Are you still at your dad’s?”

“I am. I think he could manage without me now if you think it would appear better if I went back to work...”

“Maggie, it makes no difference. The closing of your practice has no bearing on this case. And if your father is recovering from a heart attack and you’re the only relative, you have a perfectly good reason to be on leave. Unless you’re bored out of your wits or he’s driving you nuts... If you’re comfortable there, relax and try to enjoy the time off. However, you have to feel good about yourself and if working helps that, by all means, go back to work. I don’t consider it risky and neither do the many colleagues who have asked you to fill in for them.”

“They haven’t been emailing or calling, begging me to come back...”

“I know the kind of blow this is to your confidence, but I’m sure your colleagues are leaving you alone to rest and tend to family matters. With any luck we’ll have this behind us at about the same time you feel comfortable leaving your dad. Just do what keeps you sane for right now.”

“I’m not entirely sure I know what that is,” she said. But she was thinking she could stand a couple more weeks near Cal.

“One day at a time, Maggie,” he said. “I’m going to need some of your time as we get ready for a trial. I’ll need pretrial conferences, I’m sure the plaintiffs will want to depose you, and I’ll want to prep you before the trial begins. Call me in a few days and let me know if there are any changes in your work status.”