What We Find (9 page)

“Did he ever mention war issues, like maybe some PTSD?”

“Huh?”

“He said Vietnam had him pretty messed up. Of course you knew he went to Vietnam, right?”

She nodded and sipped her drink. “I didn’t know there were any issues. Why do you think he told you these things?”

“It seemed spontaneous. It was as if you were on his mind, having just had your little reunion with... What’s the boyfriend’s name?”

“Ex. It’s Andrew.”

“I think that’s why he talked about some personal things. He also said your mother is a pain in the ass.”

She laughed at that. “You won’t be surprised to learn I’ve heard that from him before. At least ten thousand times. And it’s pretty accurate. Phoebe is very high-maintenance. But the universe will catch up with her. Walter is older than Phoebe. He was a wealthy neurosurgeon, and he took very good care of my mother and me. He’s in excellent shape, energetic and healthy and on the golf course whenever he can, but he’s seventy, like Sully. Phoebe is only fifty-nine, not a bad age for a woman in good health. She’s always had to be indulged and taken care of and Walter certainly stepped up to the plate. But she could end up the caretaker.”

“Or she could put him in a nursing home and walk away from it all,” Cal said.

“Walter turned out to be a good guy. If you haven’t guessed, Phoebe has been twice a trophy wife, though I’m sure Sully didn’t realize it. To Sully I think she was just a pretty little thing. I’m sure he never thought she’d be a lot of work. I think she loves Walter. And I know Walter loves her.”

“You know, sometimes age has hardly anything to do with it. Phoebe’s health could fail before his. You just never know,” Cal said, taking a drink. “So, now that Sully is so much better, what are you going to do?” he asked her. “It’s been weeks, can you even remember why you came home in the first place?”

“Oh, Cal, not you, too. Lecturing me to go back to the grind?”

“Did I say that? I asked what you’re doing here.”

“There was a pileup,” she said. “Not only was it getting bigger than I was, I ran out of ways to practice. I ran out of ways to cope. And then Andrew...” She looked away.

“What?” he said.

“He said he couldn’t take it anymore—my plethora of problems. He said I was sucking the life out of him. He broke it off, not me. And the funny thing about that is, we didn’t even live in the same town. We texted, talked, emailed, saw each when we could—every couple of days or weeks. I was having too many problems for anyone, but I looked back through the texts and emails—they weren’t all my problems. There were friendly, chatty little things, affectionate comments, questions about him and his ER and his daughter. In fact, there’s more bitching about his alimony and custody issues than what I’d been dealing with. I realized I wasn’t supposed to have
any
problems. I was supposed to be his mommy and lover and cheerleader. I’d fallen down on the job by getting needy. He wanted me to get professional help so I could get back to work. Not work as a surgeon, work as his support system.” She took a deep breath. “It was my best friend, who is also my doctor, who said, ‘Get out of town for a week or two! Get some rest.’ There was no reason not to. I was grateful for the push.”

“How the hell did he think he was going to get that kind of attention and nurturing from a neurosurgeon? Aren’t you a little too overwhelmed on an average day to take on a little boy and all his little needs?”

She was silent for a moment. “Oh, I do like you, Callum. Where are you from?”

“I’m from everywhere. If he wasn’t doing anything for you...”

“Why was I with him? After he dumped me, I asked myself that question. It was comfortable in many ways. I had someone to talk to, play with, sit next to during a bad movie. Someone to go to a restaurant with, someone to make love to. But then he left me and basically said it was my fault.”

Cal grinned. “You won’t have any trouble filling the position. Maybe around here it’ll be iffy. But when you go back to Denver...”

“Since I’ve been here, since Sully has been doing better, I’m starting to feel almost normal. I’m going to milk this for a little while. Since I don’t have a job.”

“Were you bored with surgery?”

“You don’t get bored with the kind of surgery I do. There’s no margin for boredom. The pressure is too intense and the odds against success, despite our progress, are still too high. Never bored. I think I might’ve been addicted to the rush—it’s damned exciting. I might be making a change, however. I’ll think about that for a while. I like it here. It’s pretty uncomplicated,” she said, leaning toward him for a kiss.

She tasted of Chivas and playfulness and he lapped it up. He was starting to have thoughts of going further.

“And what about you, Calico? You have no job, you’ve been here for weeks, you don’t have a woman, you don’t seem to be doing anything...”

“Shame on you, I dug your whole damn garden. I stock your shelves every day, fish off the dock, hike around the crossing and build a fire for you at night. Then I let you talk. I’ve been very busy.”

“What brought you here?”

“I was looking at the CDT trail map and from New Mexico to Salida across the Rockies it’s frozen. I hate being cold. I’m just waiting for some of that snowpack to melt and then I want to do some serious hiking. I decided when I left Walt’s World to take six months to wander, then I’ll settle somewhere and get back to work. I’m just doing what you’re doing. I’m just taking a break. Thinking.”

“Did you graduate from high school?”

“Yes,” he said, laughing.

“Did you go to college at all?”

“Yes,” he said, trying to look serious. “I studied literature. I’m a romantic.”

“And then went on to get a counseling degree...” she offered.

“I’m afraid not. You shouldn’t ever take my advice or tell me your dreams unless they’re harmless.”

“Did you want to teach?” she asked.

“I did teach for a while. A short, memorable time—six months in what was called a men’s academy, the oldest ‘man’ being seventeen. I think I’m probably better with girls. I really liked that HR job...” He put his hands on her hips and leaned toward her.

“Because it got you laid.”

“I saw that as a perk, not part of the job.”

“I’d really love to see that princess someday...”

He decided it was time to talk less and kiss more. She was every bit as excellent as he was. She was getting closer and closer, her hands caressing his shoulders, neck and head. He loved female fingers in his hair. She was breathing hard and so was he.

“I have a roomy tent,” he said against her lips.

“That probably wouldn’t be smart of me,” she said.

“You worried about Sully?”

“I’m worried about
me
,” she said emphatically. “You’re probably riddled with theme-park diseases.”

He laughed. “Making serious love to you will be hard if you keep making jokes. I’m not riddled with anything. Except, you know, things like lust.”

“How long has this been on your mind?” she asked.

“Specifically?” he asked.

“Just when did it first come to you?”

“I think it was...when you asked me if I was homeless,” he said. “There was a dominatrix quality about it.” Then he smiled against her lips.

“I’m not spanking you, no matter how you beg.”

“Awww...”

“Why do you want to? Besides the fact that you’re a man?”

“You’re so pretty, Maggie,” he said tenderly. He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You have such a hot body, too. And you take such good care of your dad. Okay, that last has nothing to do with sex, it just makes you so much more desirable, that you’re a caring person. Mostly? You’re pretty and clever. I’m such a sucker for looks and brains. Gives me such a hard-on.”

She sighed. “All right, Calypso. But if you leave me in the morning, I might hunt you down. And punish you.”

He put his hands on either side of her face, on her cheeks. “Listen to me, Maggie. I’m going to explore this summer. But I won’t leave you without saying goodbye. Because that would be awful and if you did that to me I would be disappointed. We’ll make love, we’ll laugh, we’ll play and when the weather is warm enough so I’m not caught in some damn avalanche, I’m going up the trail to the divide. I’ve been dying for two things. You and that trail. You most.”

“You promise?”

“Yes. Even though I have a bad track record with promises.”

“You break them?” she asked.

“They usually break me,” he said. “Let’s sneak out the back door.”

* * *

Maggie held his hand and they walked to his little pop-up trailer. It was a tent, really, but it opened up out of a small, flat trailer that he pulled behind his truck. The base was metal, the top was canvas. It was spacious for a tent; she could almost stand up inside. It was not furnished with a king-size bed, however. There were two single but large cots, one on each side with space in the center. “Hopefully we won’t take up too much room,” she said.

“We’ll have all the room we need,” he said. He pulled her down beside him and after their shoes were off, they disrobed each other while they kissed. She was in a hurry and he was slowing her down. “Don’t rush this, Maggie,” he whispered, kissing her neck and chest. “Let’s enjoy it.”

“People can’t see our silhouettes through this tent, can they?” she asked. “They can’t hear us, can they?”

“You grew up in a campground and you don’t know? If you’re really loud, someone might get Sully out of bed and tell him someone’s killing a cat...”

She moaned and lay back on his cot. He pulled off the last of her clothes, her shorts and panties. Life was good, she thought. She’d shaved her legs without the faintest idea there might be sex in her life again. It was a miracle.

She’d been attracted to him since first meeting him, but that didn’t translate into making love for her. She just thought he was very good-looking for a bum. But it was really talking to him that did it to her. He was the clever one. She should have known he was learned in literature; he was so well-spoken.

Her Achilles’ heel was being told she was pretty. Not just pretty,
so
pretty. Maggie wasn’t used to that. People didn’t say that to her. They said things like,
Of course you’re pretty, Maggie
, and
You’re a very attractive woman
. She was ordinary. Not homely, certainly not ugly. But there was nothing special about her looks—brown hair, brown eyes, five-nine, straight teeth. She was always picked first in sports for teams but if there was a school play, she got the part of the aunt or sister while those achingly beautiful girls played Blanche or Cinderella. Those girls who would grow up to work as princesses.

His hands on her were so delicious; his mouth was heaven. He was determined to take his time, stroking and caressing slowly. She moaned and squirmed beneath him, the craving building, but he just hummed as he kissed, sucked, licked, nibbled, caressed. Somehow, he knew exactly how to touch her, how to titillate with his lips and tongue. He brought her nipples to life with those excellent lips. Then he kissed his way down over her belly and between her legs, his miraculous tongue torturing her for a little while as she gritted her teeth to stay quiet, gripping his shoulders. Then he kissed his way back up to her mouth.

“I think I could do this for a living,” he said. “You really turn me on.”

“I’m ready for you to get going here,” she said.

He laughed. “Are you now? You sure you want it bad enough?”

“I’m sure,” she said, running her hands down his smooth back, over his muscled butt. “I think you have a better butt than I do,” she said.

“Not possible. Your butt knocks me out.” He reached down and fumbled around under the cot. She heard him rummaging and he came up with a condom.

“That was convenient,” she whispered.

“My shaving kit,” he said. He knelt between her legs and looked down at her. “Maggie,” he said in a breath. “Look at you. So lovely. Ready for love.” He ran one finger from the hollow at the base of her throat down her body, over her breastbone, over her navel, over her pubis. He gave her clitoris a brief tease, then lowered himself into her. “Whoa,” he said in appreciation. “God, that’s good.”

“Good,” she agreed softly.

With his mouth on hers, his hands on her hips, he slowly rocked with her, gradually setting a pace that grew deeper and deeper, harder and faster. She pushed back against him, embracing him and kissing him wildly, little whimpers of hunger escaping her until before long she froze, lifting off the cot, lifting him in her sudden strength, and she clenched as she came with heat and power. While her insides gripped and quivered he emitted a deep groan and she felt him throbbing inside her. As she was coming down from the experience, he began to move, ramping her up again, making her come again. He was limited to the one, however—so sad for the man, she abstractly thought as she indulged a second orgasm, almost as good as the first.

Then she collapsed beneath him, weak and satisfied. “Oh, Calder,” she finally said. “That was amazing.”

He chuckled and ran a knuckle over her cheek, giving her bruised lips little pecks.