since we were wanderers.” He took a breath and dug around a little bit. “My father is undiagnosed schizophrenic. Mild. Functional. And my mother is his enabler and codependent.”

“It sounds so interesting,” she said, kind of agog. “And you’re an only child, too?”

He shook his head. “The oldest of four. Two boys, two girls.”

“Where’s the rest of the family?” she asked.

“Here and there,” he told her. “My youngest sister was on the farm with my parents last I checked. There’s a sister back East living a very conventional life with a nice, normal husband and two very proper children. My brother is in the military. Army. He’s an infantry major. That’s taken years off my mother’s life, I’m sure.”

She laughed and it was a bright, musical sound. “You are no ordinary camper! What are you doing here?”

He leaned on the spade. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Looking after Sully,” she said.

“Oh, but that’s not all,” he said. “Neurosurgeons don’t just take weeks off when duty calls.”

“True. Not weeks off anyway. I was already here for a vacation. My practice in Denver shut down because two of my former partners are not only being sued but being investigated by the attorney general for fraud and malpractice. I am not being indicted. I had no knowledge of their situation. But I can’t float a practice alone.”

“And that’s not all, either.”

“My father had a heart attack,” she said indignantly.

“I know, but there’s something else. Something that made you run home, run to your father, who is a remarkable man, by the way. There’s at least one more thing...”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

“That little shadow behind your eyes. Something personal hurt you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“A man,” he said. “I bet there was a man. You had a falling out or fight or something. Or he cheated. Or you did.”

“There was no cheating! We just parted company!”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said, grinning at her.

“That’s just plain rude, prying like that. I didn’t do that to you. I was only curious and I asked, but if you’d said it was none of my business, I wouldn’t have pushed. And I wouldn’t have given you some bullshit about something behind your eyes.”

“I think I’m getting a name,” he said, rolling his eyes upward as if seeking the answer in the heavens. “Arthur? Adam? Andrew, that’s it.”

She got to her feet, a disgusted smirk marring her pretty face. “Oh, that was good, Calhoun,” she said.

“Frank told me,” he said. “You weren’t thinking of keeping a secret around here, were you?” He laughed, very amused with himself. “And it’s not Calhoun.”

She brushed off the butt of her jeans. “You’re going to pay for that. I don’t know how yet, but trust me...”

“Someone has to teach you how to have a little fun, Maggie,” he said.

“Well, it’s not going to be you, Carlisle.”

He just shook his head and laughed. Then he worked on tilling the garden plot.

Copyright © 2016 by Robyn Carr

Don’t miss out on other heartwarming reads in #1 New York Times bestselling author ROBYN CARR’s widely acclaimed Virgin River series.

Now a Netflix original series!

   

Virgin River

Shelter Mountain

Whispering Rock

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ISBN-13: 9781488077104

Return to Virgin River

Copyright © 2020 by Robyn Carr

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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