What We Find. Robyn Carr
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“I thought you might not have time to cook,” he said.
“What have you got there?” she asked.
“Look and see. Where’s Sully?”
“He’s checking inventory,” she said. She pulled the foil off one plate. “Oh my,” she said. It was a skinless chicken breast cut in strips, smothered in a light sauce surrounded by broccoli, peppers, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, onions and a couple of baby corns tossed in for color. “Sauce?”
“Yogurt, flavored with spices. Try it.”
She took the offered fork and dipped into it. “Wow. You did this on that little grill of yours?”
“The Coleman stove. I’m a pretty experienced camper.”
“Gee,” she said, chewing and swallowing. “Imagine what you could do with a real stove. Did you go to town today? Shop for dinner?”
“Yesterday.”
“I have to stay open a little later tonight,” she said. “I hope it’s not past your bedtime.”
“I’ll manage,” he said. “Go get Sully.”
After eating at the checkout counter, Sully went back to the house. Maggie washed up the plates and gave them back to Cal. Then she dimmed the lights in the store and they sat on the front porch for a while. They sat side by side, their feet up on the porch rail. The store was officially closed but if someone came down the path and needed something, she’d unlock the door.
Since no one did, they talked. Softly. He put his arm around her again and told her that he admired her ability to shift gears, be flexible during this important time. “That you put his needs above your own for now, that’s generous. A lot of people couldn’t.”
“You thought I was overdoing it a bit,” she reminded him.
“You are,” he said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “But I think it will give you both peace of mind. You’re important to each other. I think you watch over each other. That’s all that matters.”
Maggie was working up a crush. She thought about Cal while she was falling asleep. She was probably a sucker for a soft, calm, confident voice and a steadying arm, she thought. In medical school one learns to worship calm confidence. Especially in surgery and particularly in specialties like hers where no doubt, no tremor, no hesitation could be tolerated. There were occasions she’d had to make a life-altering decision in under a minute. Maggie remembered times her knees had knocked but no one knew. She was decisive.
This was probably not what Jaycee had in mind when she suggested a break, and becoming a caretaker and full-time grocer was certainly not what Maggie had in mind. But Cal was a welcome distraction. Vacations, camping trips and campgrounds like this were ripe for romance and it was no different if you were the proprietor. There was something about the temporary quality, the way one was removed from real life for a time. Having spent many a weekend and vacation here with Sully during high school and college, Maggie had been vulnerable to that vacation dalliance a time or two. And it had been fun. When she was younger, the reality that the young man didn’t follow through, didn’t write or phone or email, stung. But that didn’t last. Now, she knew it for what it was.
The sexy Cal Jones, probably not even his real name, would be no different. Her common sense told her it shouldn’t be. He was lovely and wonderful the way he helped her dad, but he was just marking time and would be on to his next adventure soon. But her attraction to him was real. One of these evenings their twilight beer by the lake or on the porch would go a little further. She hoped.
She couldn’t help that. She hadn’t been in the arms of a loving man in a while, after all.
Sunday at the camp was active. People were trying to squeeze in the last of their weekend fun, then pack up their tents and campers. The store was busy—campers ran out of things to get through their last day: beer, soft drinks, snacks, sandwich fixings. Maggie was ringing up, bagging things, laughing with the customers, telling them she hoped they had a good time, looking forward to dusk when the activity would slow down. A lovely fourteen-year-old girl and her ten-year-old brother came in for eggs—they were staying one more night and then backpacking farther up the trail with their parents. They were beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed angels and the sweetest kids. Apparently their spring break had started and the family—mom and dad both teachers—loved hiking and camping and it was their dream to one day hike the whole CDT as a family.
“We’re getting up early tomorrow, eating breakfast and heading out,” Chelsea Smyth told Maggie. “We’ll probably get in a hundred miles during break.”
“I hope you’re planning to get into really good shape for the CDT,” Maggie said. “It’s a six-month commitment.”
“I think I could do it now,” Chelsea told her.
“So could I!” her brother, Remy, insisted.
“I hope when you do I’m here to cheer you on,” Maggie said, giving the girl her change. “Good luck tomorrow!”
“Maggie?”
She looked up into the beautiful blue eyes of the man next in line, eyes she knew so well. “Andrew. What are you doing here?”
“I took Mindy home a little early and hoped I could catch you. Rob Hollis told me you were here with your dad. You might’ve let me know.”
“Why? We’re fine. Better than fine,” she said, bagging up the eggs for the Smyth kids. “I hope you had a good time here, and have a safe hike,” she said. She waited for the kids to clear the door and then turned on Andrew. “Little busy here. You should have called.”
“Maggie, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, frowning.
“Bagging groceries, mostly.”
“No, what are you doing here? The rumor is you quit!”
“That’s not quite accurate. I decided to take some time off since the practice is closed and I’ve just been picking up hospital shifts here and there. Then Sully needed me, so it’s a good thing I have the time. I don’t have any patients counting on me.”
“When are you going back?” he asked.
“That’s really not your concern, now is it?” she said.
“You’ve lost your mind, is that it? You’re a surgeon. A gifted surgeon. You can’t stay here!”
“I don’t want to talk about it with you. You really should have called. I could’ve saved you a trip.”
“You’re ignoring my calls.”
“Well, there’s a reason for that. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”
“We’re not enemies, I hope. Come on, Maggie. Can we talk? Please? We have things to talk about.”
“This