Everlasting Love (2 page)

She gestured toward the back of her truck. A bright blue tarp was stretched over the bed to weatherproof it. “We didn't bring much personal gear this trip because I didn't know what was available up here. We mostly need a place with enough outside clearance to set up my portable corrals and a few smaller pens. Nothing fancy.”

“You're really going to go through with this?”

“Of course, I am.” She shot him an incredulous look. “Was there ever any doubt?”

Starting back toward the truck to fetch Roxy, Megan sensed him following, then heard him mumble, “Apparently not.”

Though the words were meant to sound grumpy, she could tell from his tone that he'd finally given in to the smile he'd been trying so hard to suppress. That was definitely a plus. As a mature woman, she was immune to his charms, of course. She just hoped he didn't smile too amiably at her impressionable sister. At fifteen, a girl could fall in love in seconds—or at least believe she had.

Megan was far wiser than that. She'd had plenty of chances to find a mate in college, yet had managed to keep her distance. No way was she going to let fleeting romance jeopardize her opportunity for a formal education. That was what her mother had done, and look what had happened. The woman was alone, uneducated and working for minimum wage, while her ex was earning big bucks and starting a new family.

As Megan saw it, marriage was the least likely way to find bliss, whereas independence meant living life exactly the way she wanted. She was no starry-eyed kid who thought she had to have a man in her life in order to be happy. Her happiness came from using her God-given talents to help others. That was plenty.

W
ith Megan in the lead and Roxy hanging back to chatter at James, they passed cabin after cabin, standing vacant amid the oak, walnut and sycamore trees of the old-growth forest. The mountain air was fresh and clear. Birds sang and flitted above, and in the distance Megan could hear the soft rush of the Spring River. What she didn't hear was children at play.

Shading her eyes with one hand, she paused to peer between the trees, then looked to James. “Where is everybody, anyway?”

“Inside, catching up with schoolwork they missed. Our census is down. We're licensed to take up to thirty wards of the court at one time. Fortunately, there are only six boys in residence now.”

He pointed down the hill. “When we have girls to look after, they bunk in that cabin over there, usually with Inez Gogerty. She and her sister take turns cooking for us and staying the night if we need extra female chaperones. As long as there's no open conflict between the boys, they all get to live in the same cabin.”

“Does that happen a lot? Fighting, I mean.”

“No. Not often. If it does, I take charge of the quarrelsome ones and assign the others to Aaron Barnes. He's a college student who helps me out whenever I need him. I try not to call him too often, though. The more money I can save the taxpayers, the more kids I can afford to help.”

Megan arched her eyebrows. She didn't doubt the man's veracity. It was just that her grant was going to provide extra help, at no cost to Camp Refuge or the state of Arkansas, and yet he wasn't willing to accept her with open arms.
Figuratively speaking, of course.

“I want to help children, too, you know,” she said.

“I know you do. Why don't you take your project and sell it to somebody who really needs it?”

“Like who?”

He shrugged his wide shoulders, reminding Megan of a high school football player Roxy had
had a terrible crush on. Only, James Harris didn't need any extra padding to make his frame formidable looking, did he?

Now stop that!
Appalled at the way her thoughts kept straying to his physical attractiveness, Megan quickly reminded herself that appropriate Christian behavior did not include daydreaming about a man, let alone one she'd just met!

James drew her back into their conversation by asking, “How about handicapped children?”

“What? Oh…” She blinked rapidly to clear her head, happy to tell him more about her work. “Been there, done that. Actually, it was my undergraduate work with a special needs group that prompted me to do my thesis on using animals for emotional therapy. You may as well give it up, Harris. Your board of trustees is on my side, one hundred percent.”

“So I've gathered. Care to explain how you managed that? Those three idiotic old codgers haven't agreed on anything in twenty years.”

“Thirty,” Megan said, watching the camp director's face closely. “At least that's what my college mentor told me when he suggested I propose my project to the other two.”

“Other two? Your mentor is on the board?”

“He sure is. Any more questions?”

“No, just give me a second to get my foot out of my mouth,” James said, ignoring Roxy's giggling as he continued to address Megan. “I hope you don't plan to tell the man I said he was an old codger.”

“I don't intend to say one single derogatory thing about you or this camp. Not as long as you give me your full cooperation.”

“Blackmail?”

“Of course not,” Megan insisted with a wry look, intending it to be more telling than her denial. “We're two intelligent adults who both want what's best for some troubled kids. When I make my final report to the board, I'm sure they'll be pleased at how well we've worked together.” She boldly thrust her hand toward him. “Shake on it, partner?”

Time crept by slower than an ant on an ice cube. There was clearly a dandy struggle going on in that good-looking head of his. When one corner of his mouth quirked with the hint of a smile, however, Megan knew she'd won.

Nodding, James grasped her outstretched hand and cupped his other hand over it. “Okay. Partners. As long as you don't butt heads with me in front of the kids and undermine my authority, I'll put up
with you. Both of you. But one false move and you're out of here. I don't care if you have friends in high places all over Arkansas. Is that understood?”

“Uh-huh.”

Dumbfounded, she stared at their clasped hands. His touch was warm, comforting, gentle. Her skin was tingling worse than the first time they'd shared a handshake. Much worse. A shiver began at the nape of her neck and skittered along her spine, confirming the full extent of her reaction to James's innocent touch.

This was more serious than her earlier tendencies to admire his looks. And a lot more scary. Emotions were her business. She recognized the signs all too well. Apparently, some of the uneasiness she'd attributed to simple nervousness when she'd first met him had had its roots elsewhere in her psyche.

Megan pulled her hand free. The effects of James's touch lingered, making her pulse race. Worse yet, her impressionable sister was standing right there, watching the whole exchange and giving her the kind of look a parent gives a child who's been caught raiding the cookie jar.

Embarrassed, Megan swallowed hard. This was not good. Not good at all. There was more at stake
here than simply preserving her own peace of mind. Preaching to Roxy about virtuous behavior was not going to have any effect if she couldn't set a good example, both in practice and in her heart of hearts.

Megan knew her actions were not going to be too hard to manage, especially if she relied on prayer for extra support. It was her errant
thoughts
that were going to give her fits. Thanks to meeting James Harris, wild notions were already spinning around in her head like dry leaves caught in a whirlwind.

 

The cabin Megan eventually chose was not among the ones James had hoped she'd pick. Naturally. He gritted his teeth. Leave it to her to fixate on a building that had stood empty for years. He'd been associated with Camp Refuge for nearly a decade, first as a part-timer, then as a counselor and finally as its director, and he couldn't recall a time when anyone had occupied the small, outlying cabin. It certainly wasn't appealing, yet the woman seemed unreasonably drawn to it.

“Are you
sure?
” he asked for the third time.

“Positive.” She led the way up onto the porch, looking down and frowning. “You'll need to re
pair these steps. They feel wobbly. I hope the interior is in better shape.”

“I can't promise a thing. We haven't used this row of cabins for anything but storage for years. Why does it have to be this one? There are lots better choices closer to our main bunkhouses and dining hall.”

“Because I
like
this one,” Megan insisted. “It has a big enough yard for my horse pen. Plus, my rabbits will need plenty of shade. These trees will be perfect for that. Right, Roxy?”

The teenager shrugged. “Whatever.”

Frustrated, James stared at Megan. “Did you get up this morning determined to do everything the hard way? Or is it simply a talent of yours to be difficult?”

She laughed softly. “I have lots of special gifts, but I've never been told making trouble is one of them.”

“Well, let me be the first,” he said, turning the front-door key. “This lock is sticking, too. I'll need to make a list of repairs. It'll be a long one.”

“Don't go to any fuss. I can take care of whatever needs to be done inside. Roxy can help me dust and sweep the place out. It'll be fine.”

“I doubt that.”

Pushing open the door on creaking hinges, he
stood back so the others could peek into the interior. As he'd suspected, the cabin not only smelled musty, it was chock-full of items that had been stored for so long, their value was nil. The stacks of cardboard file boxes were bad enough. Worse, extra cots had been piled along one whole wall. From the looks of the bundles of old mattresses, they'd been home to families of field mice for some time.

Megan made a face. Clearly ignoring her sister's muffled squeal of protest she said, “Hmmm. This could take a bit more than dusting.”

“Exactly.” James started to pull the door closed. “So, what's your second choice?”

“I don't have one. I want this cabin.”

“You must be kidding.”

“No. Not at all. Like I said, it's perfect for my needs. Think you can have the junk out of it by Monday?”

He rolled his eyes. This woman was not only stubborn beyond reason, she was also nuts. “Monday? Of next month, maybe. This is already Friday. There's no way I can spare the time to do the hours of work this place will need. It's impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible if you want it badly enough,” Megan argued. “And I want this cabin. If you can't clean it out, we'll do it ourselves.”

“No way! Not me.” Roxy retreated and scurried down the porch steps.

All James could do was shake his head. He'd never met anyone as inflexible as Megan White. Nor anyone so determined. How did all that stubbornness fit into such a compact package? When he'd been tossed out by his parents and shipped off to military school as a young teen, he'd thought those instructors were unbelievably rigid. But they'd been softies compared to this woman.

“I can't let you do that.” He cast around for a plausible excuse, settling on “It's against camp policy” before he realized she'd be privy to the details of actual camp policy through her mentor.

“I'm starting to get the idea you don't want us here,” Megan chided, breaking into a silly grin. “Well, you can forget about scaring us off. Roxy and I are moving in on Monday, with or without your help. Now, where do you want us to put all this junk after we drag it out the door?”

He knew when he was licked. “Okay, okay. I'll help you. Let me go get the old dump truck we use to haul trash. We can back it up to the porch and toss stuff into it from there so we won't have to handle anything twice. I have a bad feeling this place is loaded with spiders, not to mention other crawly things.”

It pleased him to note Megan's barely perceptible shiver. She'd listened to that warning, at least. He was in favor of anything that fostered caution and slowed her momentum. Which gave him another idea.

“You could be settled in one of the regular cabins down the hill in a few hours, you know. Today.”

When she whirled to face him, hands fisted on her slim hips, she didn't have to say a word to inform him his sensible suggestion had been in vain.

He shook his head in resignation. “Okay, okay. You win. I'll go tell Inez and Aaron to keep watching the kids for me and I'll get the truck. Don't try to move anything until I get back. Understand?”

“Perfectly.”

As he started away, Roxy hurried to match his stride. He slowed for her. “Aren't you going to stay and help your big sister?”

“No way. That place is too creepy. I don't do spiders. Or windows, either.”

“I don't blame you for hating spiders,” he said soberly. “I'm not real crazy about them myself.”

“Are you married?”

James faltered and almost tripped. “No. Why?”

“Just wondered.”

“Are you asking for yourself, or did your sister put you up to it?”

“Her? Naw.” Roxy made a face. “Meg doesn't care. She's never had lots of dates like I have. I'm a cheerleader, you know. Varsity.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. How old are the boys who live here?”

“Younger than you,” he said dryly. “And while we're on the subject, I want you to understand something. These kids are already confused and worried when they come to camp. If you do or say anything to upset them further, I'll have to end your sister's project early and send you both away. Is that clear?”

Roxy shrugged. “Sure. It's not my problem. I'm only here because my mother didn't want to be bothered with me.”

“I thought you came to help Megan.”

“Whatever. It wasn't my idea.”

Thoughtful, James refrained from further comment. He hadn't been crazy about the idea of bringing animals into the camp in the first place. Now that Megan had added a troubled teen to the mix, he was even less inclined to endorse the project.

It's only for fourteen days,
he reminded himself.
Two weeks.
Surely, not much could go wrong in that short a time.

 

When James returned with the dump truck he was alone. He handed Megan some leather gloves
and donned a matching pair. “Your sister decided to stay with Inez.”

“Not a big surprise.” The gloves were miles too big. Nevertheless, Megan expressed gratitude as she put them on. “Thanks. It was nice of you to think of bringing these for me. If I'd known I was going to be doing a lot of manual labor today I'd have come better prepared.”

“You're welcome. There's bottled water in the cab of the truck, too. I don't want you using the taps in the cabin until I've had a chance to flush them out. Might make you sick.”

“Aren't you sweet? Thanks.”

“Me? Sweet?” He chuckled. “You're the first person who's ever called me
that.
”

Slightly disconcerted, he reached for a stack of cardboard boxes, looking them over carefully while brushing away spiderwebs with one gloved hand. “All these old records are in our computer system so it'll be okay to pitch them. I'd forgotten this stuff was still around.”

“You've worked here a long time?”

“On and off. I started volunteering when I was still in school. After I got my degree, I went into teaching but it wasn't satisfying enough. I finally chucked it all and came back here to stay. Been here ever since.”