The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones (19 page)

“Oh, but it is. I married the jerk.”

A headband held her hair off her face. A single strand drifted over her eyes and she brushed it away. Her expression was defeated. He wanted to comfort her, but somehow doing that had been easier with Allison. Maybe because his relationship with the child was less complicated.

She reached into the box and pulled out several flashlights. “This isn't the first time Nelson has done this to her. But it's never been with something this big. I thought—” She shook her head. “This is her first campout. I'd had such hopes for her. What is she going to remember when she looks back on this?” She drew in a deep breath. “It doesn't matter. I swear, that little girl is going to have the time of her life. I'm going to make sure of it. I've already arranged for Jonathan to stay with a friend.”

“You're going in Nelson's place?”

She nodded. “They need some mothers to come along, anyway. I wasn't going to go because I didn't want to be in such close quarters with Nelson. Now that's not a problem. My only concern is that Allison is going to be the only girl there without an adult male along. Some of the girls don't have fathers, but they all have uncles or big brothers or something.”

“We've already talked about this, Cindy. I'm happy to go.”

She gave him a weary smile. “That's really nice but not necessary.”

“I don't mind.” He didn't. Allison was a sweet kid. He enjoyed her company. The idea of spending four days with Cindy was torture, but not the unpleasant kind. Besides, fifty or so little girls would be great chaperons.

“You're crazy.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I've never been around children. I just assumed I didn't like them, but that's not true. I like yours. I like the kids in the neighborhood.” Selfishly, when Allison remembered her first campout, he wanted her to remember him. It was as close as he could come to belonging.

She tilted her head. “What do you know about camping?”

He grinned. “Everything. I used to be a marine.”

“So if enemy forces attack the beach, you'll know just what to do?”

“Exactly.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I'm great with camp food.”

“Do you know how often little girls have to go to the bathroom in the night? They always wake up an adult. They aren't allowed to do anything by themselves. Everything is the buddy system. Are you prepared for that?”

“This isn't about me, it's about Allison. If I went, she would fit in with the other girls. She wouldn't be the only one without a guy. I might not be her father, but I'm a pretty good substitute.”

Cindy blinked several times. It took him a moment to figure out she was fighting tears. “You've only known my children six weeks, but you're already a better father than Nelson ever was.” She sniffed. “Thanks, Mike. I really appreciate your offer and I hope the campout isn't too horrible for you.”

“It'll be fun.”

She moved close to him. “Let's go tell Allison. She'll be thrilled.”

Her gaze met his. He could see the tears darkening her irises to the color of emeralds. Her mouth trembled. He wanted to claim it with his own. Not because he wanted her—although he did—but to comfort her. Because he cared.

Caring scared him more than a psycho with a .45. It scared him more than dying.

Chapter Eleven

“I
s everybody ready?” Cindy asked.

Six little girls looked at her and nodded earnestly. She raised her hands to cover her ears and yelled, “Go!”

Instantly, the loud, high-pitched scream of whistles filled the air. The seven-year-olds kept blowing until Cindy could feel the pounding start high in her temples. She forced herself to keep smiling. She'd learned a lot of tricks on camping trips with Jonathan and this was one of them.

“What are you doing?” Mike yelled over the sounds of the whistles.

She couldn't hear what he was saying, but she read his lips. “Getting it out of their systems. They have to wear their whistles at all times and blow them if there's an emergency. It's just too much temptation for most kids. This way—” The sound stopped. Cindy lowered her hands to her sides and glanced at the girls. They giggled together. After one or two short peeps, there was blissful silence.

“This way,” she continued in a normal voice, “they've had their fun. Now they can ignore the whistles unless there's a problem.”

He shook his head. “It's not like the marines.”

“I'll bet.”

She followed his gaze and saw about sixty little girls and their fathers milling through the camp. The kids were sleeping in platform tents. Most of the tents had yet to be erected. Fathers, some experienced campers, most not, argued with one another and their children over the best way to put up the tents.

The adults slept on the ground. Mike had already taken care of putting up their two small tents and Cindy was grateful. Camping wasn't her favorite activity, but she was willing to be here for Allison. Helping her daughter have a good time was all that mattered.

The crowd had no order, no leadership. Loud voices rose. Some of the girls were already crying. “You want to take over as drill sergeant?” she asked.

“Don't tempt me.”

Cindy returned her attention to the six girls. Each small group had a woman assigned to them. It meant the fathers didn't have to deal with personal business such as supervising showers. Not that the girls were going to bathe very much over the next four days.

Most of the men were talking to one another and not their children. Cindy supposed they didn't know what was expected of them. There was going to be a general meeting in about a half hour, then dinner. At the meeting, the camp director, Mrs. Stewart, would explain the rules of the camp.

“We should probably get the cook fire started now,” Cindy said. “That way the coals will be ready when the meeting is over.”

“Coals?” He raised his eyebrows. “You guys really rough it, huh?”

“They are just little girls.” She smiled. “Wait until you see dinner.”

“Fast food?”

“No, prepared plates. I made one for you. Everything is cooked. We just heat it over the fire. Sort of like an open-air microwave.”

“You're kidding?”

She leaned close. “Did you expect them to hunt for their meals? Maybe eat grubs and berries?”

His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “At least they'd learn something that way.”

“Yeah, they'd learn they didn't like camping.”

They exchanged a look of understanding and connection. Cindy felt the pull clear to her belly. She tried to resist it as much as she could. There was no reason for them to impress anyone here with their supposed relationship. They could drop the act and go back to being friends. But she found she didn't want to. She liked Mike putting his arm around her and holding her close. She liked the way he looked at her as if he thought she was pretty. She liked pretending it was real.

A very dangerous line of thought, she told herself.

Before she could say or do something, she was rescued by a pretty woman holding a can of bug repellent.

“Hi, Cindy. I don't know if you remember me. I'm Pam,” the woman said. Her thick brown hair was cut short. Green eyes danced with humor.

“Of course I do.” Cindy grinned. “You were at the last campout I came on. It was all boys then.”

Pam nodded. “Girls should be a lot easier. At least we won't have that snake-catching contest.”

Both women shuddered.

“Is your husband with you?” Cindy asked.

Pam laughed. “Are you kidding? Pass up an opportunity to sleep in dirt and fight with fire ants? He wouldn't miss it.” She glanced at Mike. “And this is...?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Mike Blackburne, this is Pam East. Mike is a friend of the family. He's my daughter's substitute father for the weekend.”

They shook hands. “Nice of you to come along,” Pam said.

“I wanted to,” Mike told her.

Pam held up the can of spray. “I'm responsible for insect dieting. If you haven't sprayed up, you need to. The girls, too. Any of you need an extra dose?”

“No, thanks. We coated the girls before we let them out of the car.”

“See you,” Pam said and walked to the next group of children.

Cindy watched her go. “It's not fair,” she said when the other woman was out of earshot.

“What isn't fair?”

“Pam and Steve. They're a great couple. I met them the last time I came camping. They accompany several campouts each summer, giving up their vacation time.” She looked at Mike and grimaced. “They don't have any kids of their own. They've been trying for years, but nothing. They're hoping for a private adoption. Who knows how long that's going to take.” She drew in a deep breath. “Last I heard, they'd about given up. It's a shame. There are parents like Nelson who don't even care about their kids, then there are people like Pam and Steve who can't have them.”

“You mean, they come on the campouts just because they want to help?”

He sounded so startled, she laughed. “Yes, Mike. Some people like children.”

“I don't dislike them. I'm just surprised.”

“That there are good people in the world?”

“Maybe. I don't see a lot of them in my line of work.”

She wanted to go to him and hold him. Before she could give in to the impulse, a call came for the camp meeting. Cindy and Mike collected the girls and walked slowly toward the open meeting area.

A small platform had been built at one end. Everyone settled on the ground. Cindy sat down cross-legged and realized her butt was too old to be comfortable without a real chair. Mike struggled to find a comfortable position. If the look on his face was anything to go by, the healing muscles in his thigh weren't happy about being stretched out. Allison shimmied between them and plopped onto the ground.

She grinned. “I like camping.”

Cindy brushed Allison's bangs out of her face. “You haven't actually done any yet.”

“But I still like it.”

“I'm glad.” She kissed her daughter's forehead.

The camp director, Mrs. Stewart, stepped up onto the platform. She welcomed everyone to the father-daughter camp, then proceeded to read from a list of rules. Cindy knew most of them by heart. The most important one was the buddy system. No child was to go off by herself. Anywhere. Not even to the rest room. The talk went on.

Cindy glanced around the open area. It had been cleared of brush and trees. There were patches of grass, but by late July, hundreds of campers' feet had worn most of it away. Tall trees ringed the camp. In another half hour or so they would provide shade from the sun. Cindy wiped her forehead. It wasn't too bad, only in the eighties. For a Houston summer, that was practically chilly. The humidity was low, too, which was a pleasant change.

“The beach is off-limits tonight,” Mrs. Stewart was saying. “The alligators are out.”

“Alligators?” Mike asked quietly.

“Sure. They're in the river.” She smiled. “This is swampland, what did you expect?”

“You camp near alligators?”

“It's a great punishment if the kids get out of hand. We just hold them by their ankles and dangle them over the water.” She could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but she kept her face serious.

Allison looked at her. “Really?” she asked, her eyes big.

Cindy nodded.

“I'll be good, Mommy.”

“I know you will.”

“So that's how it is,” Mike said and winked.

It was a silly meaningless gesture that made her tingle all the way to her toes.

When the meeting was over, Allison and her friends scrambled to their feet. The parents rose more slowly. Mike stood up and held out his hand. Cindy placed her fingers against his and allowed him to pull her up. She brushed off her shorts, then grimaced.

“We forgot to start the fire for dinner. The girls are going to be hungry and cranky.”

“No problem,” he said. “I saw starter cans in with the cooking supplies.”

When they got back to their section of the camp, three men had collected around the fire pit. They were arguing over the best way to start the fire. One little girl stood nearby, her expression mutinous.

“But, Daddy, we
can't
use starter fluid. It's against the rules.”

“Do you want to follow the rules, or do you want to eat?” the man asked, obviously annoyed.

“Try these,” Mike said, handing him a starter can. He then showed the man how to stuff newspaper into the can, followed by charcoal briquettes. Mike lit the paper on fire. After a few minutes, he used tongs to pull away the can.

Allison laughed and clapped her hands together. “They're already red.”

Cindy smiled. “I'm impressed, Blackburne.”

The children got out their prepared dinners and set them on the grill. One girl had a whole yam. Mike looked at it, then at her. “Honey, this isn't going to cook until morning.”

“Mommy said it would be good for me. Lots of vitamins. I don't have anything else.” Her voice trembled.

Allison spoke up. “I'll share my dinner,” she said. “I have lots.”

The two girls sat next to each other on a log. Mike stepped around it and moved next to Cindy. “Don't ever question your abilities as a parent.”

She stared at her youngest, then shook her head. “I'd like to take credit for that, but I think it's just her. She's a sweet kid.”

Slowly, all the meals were heated and everyone sat down to eat. Several of the men jockeyed for position, as if one's status at a campout was as important as the hierarchy in a boardroom. A few fathers ignored the posturing and settled beside their daughters, clearly enjoying the time with them.

Mike stayed near Allison and her new friend. He made sure they had enough to drink, then brought Cindy her meal. When everyone had eaten and the plates had been cleared away, he and Steve started the marshmallow detail so everyone could have S'mores.