What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)

Cal retrieved his truck and pop-up camper, put the camper behind the storage shed and parked the truck next to Maggie’s car. He started working through Sully’s list. He hadn’t been kidding about getting a little behind. Cal scraped out old grout in the public showers, bathroom and laundry room, regrouted, painted the building inside and out, scoured the whole thing until it was like new. He painted and covered the porches and stairs on both the store and house with rain repellant. He graded the driveway and parking areas, cleaned out grills, collected trash, raked campsites, cleaned cabins, changed and washed the linens, tended the garden and helped in the store.

It crossed his mind Sully was trying to wear him out so he’d be too damned tired to have sex with Maggie. Ha! No such luck, Sully!

Maggie was irresistible and he felt like a teenager again, always ready. Maggie was also always ready.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered to her deep in the night.

“You’ll be fine,” she whispered back.

“Sully gives me shit about my nights in his house,” Cal said. “Subtle innuendo. He thinks he’s very clever. But the miracle is that I can still get it up after a day of doing chores for him and letting him needle me.”

“And you do so very adequately. I know about these things. I’m a doctor.”

When Cal had been back at Sullivan’s Crossing for about a week, Maggie took off for the day to meet with her lawyers in Denver. It was a long day so she planned to stay overnight. She met Jaycee for sushi, something they used to do regularly. Then she had a nostalgic visit with her house.

It was a great single woman’s house, large enough to give her plenty of room, small enough to hug her when she was there. Even though her schedule hadn’t allowed her a great deal of time at home, she had gone to great trouble and considerable expense in decorating. Her furniture was contemporary and comfortable, dark walnut tables and accents, her sectional cozy and deep velour.

She had a wonderful mattress that she had missed, but she missed Cal more. Sometime in the middle of the night she went to the guest room bed and found it slept just as well.

When Maggie returned to Sullivan’s Crossing she was driving a rental truck that she could return in Leadville and she was towing her car. In the truck was a thick area rug and the furniture from her guest bedroom. She brought a bookcase and reading lamp. Sully already had an old leather chair and ottoman that had been his father’s—it was a beautiful, comfortable relic.

“What’s this?” Cal asked.

“We’re moving downstairs. Into Sully’s rumpus room.”

“Will he know everything we’re doing if we’re down there?” Cal asked.

“Only if he has a nanny-cam.”

Cal’s eyes lit up with pleasure. “Oh boy. We’re going to rumpus our brains out!”

Cal was quickly absorbed into summer at the crossing. Guests and campers greeted him by name. He asked kids if they were having fun, checked to see if there was anything he could do for their parents. He worked with Tom on the care of the grounds and did any heavy lifting that had to be done if he caught it before Sully did. He also got better acquainted with the neighbors and friends who stopped by. People who worked at other campgrounds on the lake liked to grab a beer or drink at Sully’s store; first responders dropped by now and then to see how things were going, get the latest gossip, grab a beer if they were off duty.

“Tom’s got a lot on his plate. I can take on his Wednesday jobs,” he suggested to Sully. “I can keep up with the grounds.”

“I couldn’t do that to Tom,” Sully said. “He supports four kids on his own. He does every job he can manage and he’s a search-and-rescue volunteer besides. He depends on his paychecks. And now he’s helping Jackson with college.”

Cal was impressed—this responsibility to each other people around the crossing shared. His own family was barely capable of that. They checked on each other and one would think, given the unbalanced lifestyle in which they’d grown up, they would cling to each other for survival, but it seemed to go the other way. Once they broke free, their contact was steady but minimal. It was every man for himself. He liked his brother-in-law, Sedona’s husband, and his niece and nephew were great, but they didn’t see each other often. Dakota, being a military man, wasn’t easy to keep up with; he had deployed three times in the past ten years. If they didn’t all have cell phones, they would hardly be in touch at all. They didn’t exactly have family reunions.

“Family reunion?” Sedona had once said. “Doesn’t that sound like a day in hell?”

“Nah,” Cal had replied. “Just a day at the loony bin.”