Join Robyn Carr, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Virgin River and Thunder Point series, as she explores the healing powers of rural Colorado in a brand-new story of fresh starts, budding relationships and one womanâs journey to finding the happiness sheâs long been missing
Between the urban bustle of Denver and the high-stress environment of a career in neurosurgery, Maggie Sullivan has hit a wall. When an emergency high-risk procedure results in the death of a teenager, Maggie finds herself in the middle of a lawsuitâand experiencing levels of anxiety sheâs never faced before. She knows she needs to slow down before she burns out completely, and the best place she can think to do that is Sullivanâs Crossing.
Named for Maggieâs great-grandfather, the land and charming general store at the crossroads of the Colorado and the Continental Divide Trails have been passed down through the generations and now belong to Maggieâs eccentric father, Sully. When she shows up unannounced, he welcomes her with open arms, and she relishes the opportunity to indulge in his simple way of life.
But shortly after arriving, Maggieâs world is rocked once again and she must take on more responsibility than sheâd planned. Though sheâs relieved a quiet and serious-looking hiker, Cal Jones, is willing to lend a hand, Maggie is suspicious of this mysterious manâs eagerness to helpâuntil she finds out the true reason for his deliberate isolation.
Though Cal and Maggie each struggle with loss and loneliness, the time they spend together gives Maggie hope for something brighter just on the horizonâ¦if only they can learn to find peace and healingâand perhaps loveâwith each other.
Chapter 1
Maggie Sullivan sought refuge in the stairwell between the sixth and seventh floors at the far west end of the hospital, the steps least traveled by interns and residents racing from floor to floor, from emergency to emergency. She sat on the landing between two flights, feet on the stairs, arms crossed on her knees, her face buried in her arms. She didnât understand how her heart could feel as if it was breaking every day. She thought of herself as much stronger.
âWell, now, some things never change,â a familiar voice said.
She looked up at her closest friend, Jaycee Kent. They had gone to med school together, though residency had separated them. Jaycee was an OB and Maggie, a neurosurgeon. And...they had hidden in stairwells to cry all those years ago when med-school life was kicking their asses. Most of their fellow students and instructors were men. They refused to let the men see them cry.
Maggie gave a wet, burbly huff of laughter. âHowâd you find me?â Maggie asked.
âHow do you know youâre not in my spot?â
âBecause youâre happily married and have a beautiful daughter?â
âAnd my hours suck, Iâm sleep-deprived, have as many bad days as good and...â Jaycee sat down beside Maggie. âAnd at least my hormones are cooperating at the moment. Maggie, youâre just taking call for someone, right? Just to stay ahead of the bills?â
âSince the practice shut down,â Maggie said. âAnd since the lawsuit was filed.â
âYou need a break. Youâre recovering from a miscarriage and your hormones are wonky. You need to get away, especially away from the emergency room. Take some time off. Lick your wounds. Heal.â
âHe dumped me,â Maggie said.
Jaycee was clearly shocked. âWhat?â
âHe broke up with me. He said he couldnât take it anymore. My emotional behavior, my many troubles. He suggested professional help.â
Jaycee was quiet. âIâm speechless,â she finally said. âWhat a huge ass.â
âWell, I was crying all the time,â she said, sniffing some more. âIf I wasnât with him, I cried when I talked to him on the phone. I thought I was okay with the idea of no children. Iâm almost thirty-seven, I work long hours, I was with a good man who was just off a bad marriage and already had a child...â
âIâll give you everything but the good man,â Jaycee said. âHeâs a doctor, for Godâs sake. Doesnât he know that all youâve been through can take a toll? Remove all the stress and you still had the miscarriage! People tend to treat a miscarriage like a heavy period but itâs a death. You lost your baby. You have to take time to grieve.â
âGospel,â Maggie said, rummaging for a tissue and giving her nose a hearty blow. âI really felt it on that level. When I found out I was pregnant, it took me about fifteen minutes to start seeing the baby, loving her. Or him.â