What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)(30)

“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.”