Return to Virgin River (Virgin River #19) - Robyn Carr Page 0,109
“Sorry about the heart trouble, Sully. Glad to see you’re doing so well. To tell the truth, you look better than ever.”
“What the devil you doing here so long?” Sully asked, shaking his hand.
“Well, I could say I was here to help out, but that wouldn’t be true. I’m waiting for better weather to check out the CDT. Since I was here, I tried to lend Enid a hand.”
“He did a great job, Sully,” Enid said. “He’s been bringing in the heavy boxes from the storeroom, helped stock shelves, swept up, hauled trash, the kind of stuff that’s on your schedule.”
“That’s awful neighborly,” Sully said. “We’ll cut you a check.”
The man chuckled and ducked his head with a hint of shyness that Maggie was immediately taken with.
“No need, Sully. I didn’t mind helping out. It gave me something to do.”
“If you’re camping, you must have had other things on your mind to take up time.”
“To tell the truth, I messed up my planning. I thought I’d pick up the CDT out of Leadville but where it’s not icy, it’s flooding. A few chores weren’t anything. Enid took care of me. I appreciate the hospitality.”
“Are you planning to leave your vehicle in Leadville?” Sully asked.
“That was the plan.”
“Well, you can leave it here if it suits you and pick up the trail just over that hill,” Sully said, pointing. “Whenever you’re ready and no charge. No charge on the campsite, either.”
“You don’t have to do that, but it’s appreciated. In fact, this being your first day home, I’ll stick around a few days in case you need a hand. I don’t have urgent plans.”
“Are you homeless?” Maggie asked.
Everyone stared at her.
“I mean, you don’t need money and you’re in no hurry and you’re happy to help and... It’s unusual. Not that people aren’t friendly, but...”
He flashed her a beautiful smile. His front teeth were just slightly imperfect and it gave him a sexy, impish look. “No problem. In fact, I am homeless. I’m on the road, probably till fall. But I have the truck, the camper, I’m always on the lookout for places to charge up the laptop and phone and I think Enid gave me special treatment—some of the meals I got here were way better than what’s for sale in the cooler. I have what I need for now. And yes, I can pay my way.”
“Independently wealthy?” Maggie asked. And for someone who didn’t mean to be rude, she realized she certainly sounded it. “Trust-fund baby?”
“Maggie!” Sully reprimanded. “She might be a little cranky, Cal, on account of I turned out not to be the best patient on record.”
“No problem at all. I’m the suspicious type myself. No, not a trust-fund baby, Dr. Sullivan. Just a little savings and a lot of patience.” He shifted his gaze to Sully. “Right now I have time for a game of checkers. Any takers?”
“Don’t do it, Sully,” Frank said. “He’s brutal.”
“That makes it irresistible, now, don’t it?”
That’s when Maggie wandered off to the house.
* * *
Sully’s house was over a hundred years old. It had been built when Maggie’s great-grandfather was a young man, before he and his wife had their first child. The improvements and changes since it was originally built were haphazard at best. When old refrigerators died, new ones appeared and they never matched the original kitchen color or design. The washer and dryer started in the basement but eventually made it up to the back porch; the porch was finally closed in so a person wouldn’t freeze doing laundry in winter. Furniture was replaced as it wore out but never was a whole room remodeled. It was long overdue.
But the design was surprisingly modern for a house built in 1906 and Sully himself had reroofed it. There was a living room, dining room and a kitchen with nook on the main floor. There had been three bedrooms and a bath but Sully had installed a master bath attached to the largest bedroom. He had burrowed into the third bedroom for the space, which left a smaller than usual room, so it became his office. Over time he’d finished off the attic into a cozy loft bedroom but Maggie had no idea why. He didn’t marry again. It wasn’t like there were offspring wrestling for space. He’d recently remodeled the basement into what he called a rumpus room. “For the grandchildren I guess I’ll never get,” he said. “No pressure.”
“It’s not really too late,” Maggie said. “If I ever