Robyn Carr - What We Find

“It’s not really too late,” Maggie said. “If I ever find the time.” And the right man...

“There wasn’t that much to do in winter so I worked on the house a little bit,” was all he said.

She loved the house, though it was in serious need of a face-lift.

She spent the afternoon settling their belongings into their rooms. Sully didn’t make an appearance. It crossed her mind to check on him, to make sure he wasn’t doing too much, but she trusted Enid to keep an eye on him.

She came back across the yard to the store a little after four and found Sully sitting by the stove with only Beau for company.

“Tired?” she asked him.

“I never been the nap kind of man but I’m starting to see the merits,” he said.

“Did you send Enid and Frank home?”

“Nothing going on around here, no need for them to stay. We can close up early. After we have a little nip.” He lifted his bushy salt-and-pepper brows in her direction. “Your friend the doctor, he said that’s all right.”

“Did he, now? You wouldn’t lie about that, would you?”

“I would if need be but he did indeed say that.” Sully got up, a bit slower than he used to, and walked through the store to the little bar. He went behind while she grabbed a stool. “What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

“Is there a cold white wine back there with the cork out?” she asked.

“No, but it would be my pleasure to uncork this really nice La Crema and let you steal it. You can take it back to the house with you.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Now, I’d like you to do something for me, Maggie.”

“What’s that, Dad?”

“I’d like you to go out to the porch where that nice Cal Jones just sat down, and invite him to join us. Right after you apologize for being such an ass.”

“Dad...”

“You think I’m kidding around? Really, I didn’t raise you like that and maybe Phoebe did but I doubt it. She’s snooty but not nasty. I’ve never seen the like.”

She took a breath. “After your behavior in the hospital...”

“After you get your chest sawed open, we’ll compare notes. For now, the man was decent enough to help Enid and we’re grateful. Aren’t we, Maggie?”

She sighed. “You know what this is like? This is like getting in trouble at school and being marched back to the classroom to humbly take your medicine. How do you know he’s not a serial killer?”

“I’m not,” said an amused voice.

“Don’t you just have the worst habit of sneaking up on people!” she said. “This old man is a heart patient!”

“That’s no way to worm back into my good graces, calling me old,” Sully said. “Besides, I saw him coming. Say what I told you, Maggie.”

“I might’ve been a little impatient today,” she said. “And perhaps I didn’t show my gratitude very well...”

“She was an ass,” Sully said. “Not like her, neither. You want a little pop, son?”

“You’re on,” he said, sitting on one of the stools. “How about a Chivas, neat, water back.”

While Sully pulled the cork out of the wine, he talked. “So, Maggie here is very tough but tenderhearted and usually very good with her manners. Much better than I am. But I think putting up with me for three weeks since this operation just plain ruined her.” He pushed a glass of wine toward Maggie. “She isn’t going to do that again. Unless you give her trouble. Don’t give her trouble, son. She’s very strong.”

Maggie the bold and strong, she thought.

“I don’t have any trouble in me, Sully,” Cal said with a chuckle. “I’m just checking out Colorado.”

“And what are you doing here?” she asked. When both men looked at her, she held up a hand. “Hey, no offense, but people usually have a reason for finding themselves at Sullivan’s Crossing.”

“No offense taken,” he said. “I’ve been doing some hiking here and there. Hiking and camping. There’s a lot of stuff online about hiking the Divide, but you don’t want to hit the Rockies before May, and that might even be too soon...”

“Not this year,” Sully said. “It’s an early thaw. We damn near washed into the lake one year with an early thaw. The snowpack flows to the west but we’re not without our wash. I gotta figure out how to get that garden in without lifting a finger.”

Maggie laughed. “Once again, he talks about me like I’m not even here. Of course I’ll help with the garden. So, you think you might hike the whole CDT?”

Cal shook his head. “I don’t think so, just a little piece of it, but I’d like to get up there and see what I see. I’ll hike and camp for a few weeks, then I’ll decide what’s next. Montana, maybe. Or Idaho. Canada. But not in winter.”

Over the years, Maggie had learned that you don’t ask a hiker why they take on something like the Appalachian Trail or the CDT. They’re driven. They want to be stronger than the trail, to break it or maybe just survive it. “The CDT is the longest one,” Maggie pointed out. “It can get lonely out there.”

“I know. I like the solitude. I also like the people I run into. People who want to do that are... I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like they have things to understand about themselves and every single one of them has different things to figure out.”

“And what do you have to figure out, Mr. Jones?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Nothing too deep. How about what to do next? Where to settle?”

That sounded like true freedom to Maggie—choosing something new. She’d eventually have to go back to work in Denver. Right now she was using Sully’s rehabilitation as an excuse. She was needed here.

“If you like solitude, then that must be why you chose this campground in March,” Sully said, sipping from his glass and letting go a giant ahhhh as he appreciated it. Maggie and Cal laughed. “Doc says this is all right but you can bet your sweet ass that bitch of a nurse didn’t bring me no nightcap!”

“Dad!”

“You expect me to apologize for saying that? That was a simple, true statement!” He shook his head. “That one nurse, the one at night with the black, black hair and silver roots, she was mean as a snake. If I die and go to hell, I’ll meet her there.”

Cal looked at Maggie and with a wry smile said, “Long convalescence?”

“Three weeks of my life I’ll never get back,” Maggie said.

No man can, for any considerable time,

wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude,

without finally getting bewildered as to which

is the true one.

—Nathaniel Hawthorne

Chapter 3

Once Sully had gone to bed, Maggie got on her computer. She might not be a trained investigator but she was damn sure an experienced researcher. She started by collecting the possible variants on the name Cal. Calvin, Calhoun, Caleb, Callahan, Calloway, even Pascal. Then she tried just plain Cal Jones. She found several obituaries but not a single reference that could be their camper, so if he was a serial killer he was still an unknown one. She wasted two hours on that.

She heard her phone chime with a text. She was surprised to see it was from Andrew.

I heard about Sully. Is he doing well? Are you?

We’re fine, she texted back.

There was no response and she went back to tinkering on her laptop. About ten minutes later her phone rang and she saw the call was from Andrew. She sent it to voice mail. There was a ping—message received.

There were so many times over the past three weeks she had wished to hear Andrew’s confident and reassuring voice. To feel his arms closing around her. She had a few close women friends. There was Jaycee, her closest friend. Jaycee had called or texted every day to see how they were getting along. There were a few of the women she worked with, but Andrew had been the only man in her life for a long time. Since Sergei. And Sergei had been a total mistake. An artist of Ukrainian descent who, she eventually realized, wanted to marry an American doctor or someone of equal income potential. He’d had the mistaken impression she came from money because of the show Phoebe and Walter could put on. Walter could affect an image of aristocracy.