Everlasting Love (5 page)

James snorted derisively, thinking about life in general and his boys in particular, as he dressed. Making the right choices could be hard for adults, too. He ought to know. He'd struggled with the same fundamental principles of good versus evil for a lot longer than he wanted to admit. If it hadn't been for a teacher who had cared what happened to him and intervened on his behalf, there was no telling what he might have eventually done with his life.

Continuing that example of caring and concern was a big component of his journey into a career of service. It was going to be a long time—if ever—before he'd feel he'd adequately repaid the enormous debt he owed Ralph Clarkson.

And speaking of owing—if his suspicions proved true, he owed Zac plenty.

Instead of putting on his shoes and socks, James walked barefoot and silent to the closed bathroom door. He listened. There was a soft scuffling and tittering on the opposite side of that door, further convincing him that his icy shower had been no accident.

Slowly, cautiously, he closed his hand over the knob, then jerked the door open without a word.

Bobby Joe and Mark tumbled into the room. The others managed to keep their balance and immediately scattered, squealing and shouting.

James righted the two boys, released Mark and concentrated on Bobby Joe. “Where's your brother?”

The blond-headed child's lower lip was quivering. “Over—over there,” he whispered, pointing toward the laundry room.

“Okay. Now shush,” James said, placing his index finger across his lips. “Stay right here.”

It wasn't hard for James to approach the laun
dry area without being heard. He paused at the open door and peered past the washing machines. There was Zac, kneeling at the base of the water heater and fiddling with the valve on the line that fed the boys' dorm.

James paused long enough to stop grinning, then stepped into view with a gruff “Hey! What're you doing?”

The boy sprang to attention. “Um, nothin'. Nothin' at all. I was just—”

“Save it,” James countered. “I know what you did.”

“You do?”

“Sure. You heard me holler and you wanted to make sure the water heater was working right, so you came in here to check on it for me. That's right, isn't it?”

“Ummm…if you say so.”

Half of James's repressed smile returned in spite of his determination to play out the scene seriously. “Would you say it's working now?”

The boy backed away with a shrug of his thin shoulders. “Beats me. I don't know nothin' about plumbing.”

“Well, I do. And it looks to me like that valve is only partly open. Maybe that's why I ran out of hot water in the shower this morning.”

Another shrug. “Maybe.”

As he bent to check the water heater, James said, “Just so you'll know, in case this problem comes up again, if you shut off the intake instead of the outflow, you can run the holding tank dry and maybe burn out the heating element. If that happened, by accident of course, we'd all be taking cold showers.” His voice lowered. “Understand?”

“Hey, why tell me? I don't have nothin' to do with keeping this dump running.”

“No, but I do.” James stood and laid a hand on the boy's bony shoulder. “The next time you think something needs fixing around here, I want you to come tell me, not take matters into your own hands. Okay?”

“Okay. Sure. No sweat.”

Shepherding Zac out of the laundry room and back to the dorm, James was thankful the prank hadn't caused any lasting damage. He knew he should reprimand the boy, but no real harm had been done. There would undoubtedly be plenty of other instances when Zac would need his wings clipped. James figured he'd save any show of serious displeasure for a more important infraction.

Besides, he mused, there was no way a kid as sharp as that really believed he'd gotten away with
the prank. He knew full well the camp director was on to him. And he also knew James had accepted being given a cold shower. It was all part of the unofficial game they played while feeling each other out, trying to find a common ground without having to give in too much.

James knew the game well. He'd played it for years on the side of the underdog. Now that he was the authority figure, he didn't want to lord it over the boys. He'd decided long ago that the best way to prove he deserved respect was to earn it by being fair rather than insisting on absolute obedience. All the rules, all the threats in the world weren't going to make a kid like Zac behave for long unless he truly wanted to. There was a very fine line between being the boy's mentor and his jailer. That was the line James intended to walk.

W
hen Megan arrived back at Camp Refuge she was pulling a loaded stock trailer.

She parked by the cabin, helped Roxy move the rabbit hutches into the shade so the animals wouldn't be stressed by the heat, then headed down the hill to report their arrival to James.

He almost flattened her when he threw open the door of the main hall and burst out.

Off balance, Megan staggered back at the edge of the top step, arms windmilling. “Ahhhh!”

“Oops.” James caught her neatly. Steadied her. “Sorry. I thought I heard somebody drive in. I was on my way to see if it was you.”

“It's me, all right.” She straightened, disengaged his hold and smoothed her shirt over her clean jeans. “I just wanted you to know we'd arrived.”

“Have you looked at the cabin yet?”

“Not closely. Why?”

“No reason.”

His expression was hard for Megan to interpret. One moment he looked smug and the next almost embarrassed. The swing from enigmatic to endearing unsettled her almost as much as his brief but necessary touch had.

She gave him a nervous smile. “What did you do—rig it so I'd get a bucket of water dumped on my head when I opened the door or something?”

“Me?” He made an obvious pretense of wounded feelings. “I assure you, I never play practical jokes, Ms. White.”

Megan hesitated an instant, then said, “Okay. Sorry. It shouldn't take me long to get my animals settled in. You can bring the kids up later, after lunch, and I'll give them an idea of what I'll expect when they work with me.”

“You mean
if,
don't you?”

Disappointment colored her response. “My mistake. I'd forgotten you were so dead set against my project.”

“Hey, I didn't say that.”

“You most certainly did.”

She knew the best thing to do was leave him before she gave in to the urge to blurt out something
she'd be sorry for. Considering the way she was feeling at the moment, it wouldn't be long. Besides, keeping company with James when she didn't have to was bound to give Roxy more erroneous ideas about their nonexistent relationship. That was the
last
thing she wanted.

Megan stood proud. “If you'll excuse me, I have work to do. I don't want to leave my animals in the trailer any longer than necessary.”

Whirling, she clomped down the steps and crossed the dirt lane that passed for a road inside the campground. If James Harris thought he could thwart her by keeping those kids away, he had another think coming. Nobody was going to stop her. Nobody. She was in the right and she was
not
going to back down. The gall of that man. “
If
they choose to come see me! Ha!”

Increasing animosity gave her feet wings as she climbed the hill to her cabin. She didn't care what he'd done to the place in her absence, what kind of awful furniture he'd dug up for her. She was not quitting. Not if she and Roxy had to sleep on the floor and store their clothes in cardboard boxes!

Megan's jaw was firmly clenched, her lips pressed into a thin line as she breezed past her surprised sister. She grabbed the knob, threw open the
door to the cabin—and froze. Her heart sank. Her breath caught. Oh, dear! It was worse than she'd thought. Much worse.

James had not only given her the things she'd asked for, he'd added so many other amenities, the place already looked like a warm, welcoming home. There was a settee, complete with throw pillows, a reclining chair beside a combination end table and magazine rack, a small dinette set with two matching chairs, and regular twin beds instead of the cots she'd expected.

This was
awful!
She'd practically spit in his eye just now, assuming he'd tried to sabotage her comfort, when he'd actually done the opposite.

Sadly, there was only one thing to do, and the sooner the better. It was time for another apology. A humongous one. And this time, it had to come from her.

Roxanne had trailed her into the room. “Oh, wow! I can't believe the difference.”

“Neither can I.”

“So what's your problem? You look like you just ate a bug or something.”

“No, but I am about to have to go back down the hill and eat my words. Buckets hasn't shed all her winter coat yet but she's a tough little mare. She'll be fine waiting in the trailer till I get back.
So will Beethoven. But move Rocky's cage into the house for me, will you? And let Wiggles go with you so he can sniff around and make himself at home. Just keep him on a leash for now.”

The teenager gave a snort of disgust. “Anything else? Want me to put up the big corrals by myself, too, while I'm at it?”

Megan chose to avoid an argument by overlooking the sarcasm in the girl's voice.

“No, thanks. We can do that together as soon as I get back. I don't expect to be gone for more than a few minutes. It doesn't take long to eat crow.” She pulled a wry face. “I just hope all those feathers don't get stuck in my throat while I'm trying to swallow my pride, too.”

 

Megan found James in the main hall, supervising the boys. Some of them were studying while the others worked on craft projects that reminded her of activities in a normal summer camp. Flat wooden sticks, colored paper scraps and dots of white that looked suspiciously like glue littered the floor.

He smiled and started toward her as soon as he realized she'd come back. “Hi. How was the cabin?”

“It's wonderful,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

The younger boys had followed him and crowded around to offer their own greetings. Megan would have preferred to speak to James alone, but since they had an audience she figured she owed it to him to confess in the presence of the children. After all, what better way to teach than by good example?

She put a finger to her lips to shush their eager babbling, smiled and led everyone over to the homework table where the older boys, Zac and Mark, were still seated.

“Everybody please listen for a second, okay? I came to tell you I'll be ready to show you my animals soon.”

As soon as the chorus of “Yeahs” subsided, she continued. “And I also came to apologize to Mr. Harris.”

Serious, subdued, she turned to James. “I'm sorry I misjudged you. You fixed up my cabin much better than I deserve, especially after the way I spoke to you. I truly am sorry.”

James gave her a lopsided smile. “Apology accepted. Actually, it wasn't entirely my idea. Inez made a few suggestions and the boys and I did the work.”

“Yeah!” Bobby Joe piped up. “I helped.”

“Me, too! Me, too!” Kyle echoed.

Megan was even more touched. She crouched and opened her arms to them. “How sweet of you all. Thank you.”

To her chagrin, none of the youngsters accepted her offer of a group hug. Even the littlest ones, Robbie and John, held back.

She quickly straightened and pretended nothing unusual had occurred. Clearly, these children were not used to displaying affection—or receiving it. They were like the hospitalized babies she'd read about. Ones who were given daily massages gained weight much more rapidly than expected and were ready to be discharged a lot earlier than others. Loving touch made all the difference. Sadly, when children were not cuddled as babies, they often had trouble forming interpersonal relationships for the rest of their lives.

That kind of emotional damage was one of the things she hoped to overcome with her companion animal study. Yet it was much more than that. Megan wasn't sure exactly when the change in her focus had taken place but she knew her work had long ago ceased to be a simple scholarly study. Her heart and mind were now so intertwined with what she was doing, it was impossible to separate
herself from her goals. Which was probably why she'd taken James's negative opinions so to heart.

Looking into his eyes, she sensed a depth of understanding beyond what she'd expected. He hadn't missed the importance of what she'd learned when the children had held back, nor was he condemning her for trying to embrace them. He seemed almost appreciative of her efforts, though clearly not surprised at the rebuff.

Megan smiled slightly and nodded at him. “Well, I've disturbed you enough. I hope you can find the time to bring everybody up to my camp later.”

“What time?” he asked.

“Around three? That should give us time to set everything up.”

“Do you need any help? Aaron isn't here today but I can have Inez watch the boys if you need me.”

“I appreciate your offer but we can handle it. Roxy and I loaded the horse panels ourselves. They're not heavy. Just cumbersome.”

“Okay. Then three o'clock, it is,” James said. “We're looking forward to it. Aren't we, gang?”

Another chorus of children's shouts punctuated his statement.

Megan reached out and laid her hand lightly on
his arm to reinforce her parting words. “Thanks. And again, I'm really sorry I misjudged you.”

“No problem.”

The muscles she felt beneath his warm skin twitched. He pulled away abruptly.

Comparing his reaction to what she'd just experienced with the children, Megan blinked. New possibilities nibbled at the fringes of her imagination. Was James Harris good at his job because of his formal education? Or did he understand the children in his care so well because he was like them?

Her heart instantly went out to the stoic man. Perhaps there were adult emotional walls as well as youthful ones that needed breaking down at Camp Refuge.

If that were the case, she was up to the challenge. She had to be. The good Lord would not have placed her here if He hadn't been sure she was capable of accomplishing whatever He asked of her.

Feeling positive and in control of the situation, Megan bid everyone a polite goodbye and started back for her cabin.

By the time she was halfway up the hill, however, she'd begun to question her conclusions. Her fingers still tingled from where they'd brushed his
bare forearm, and her pulse was far too rapid to have been boosted into orbit by the easy climb to her camp. Therefore, she had to be reacting in a personal way to being around James Harris again.

Okay, fine. She could accept that. So he happened to affect her sympathies the same way a wounded or mistreated animal did. So what? That didn't mean she had to behave any differently toward him than she would toward the children she'd come to help.

And it certainly didn't mean Roxy had been right when she'd envisioned a budding romance between them. No, sir.

It was normal to feel love for her parents, her sister, her pastor and innumerable fellow Christians—men, women and children—so why not share the same brotherly affection with someone like James?

In theory, that sounded perfectly plausible to Megan. In practice, however, she wasn't sure she was going to be able to pull it off without getting too involved. There was something very special about the camp supervisor. Something compelling she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something that struck her as the kind of attraction that might prove dangerous to her own peace of mind—if she let down her guard for an instant.

 

It was well after three o'clock before Megan saw James leading his charges up the hill. When she'd learned that Aaron wasn't currently in residence, Roxy had retired to the cabin to read a romance novel, which left Megan alone to greet her visitors.

She ordered her mottled gray Australian shepherd to heel, then called out a pleasant, “Hi. I was beginning to worry you might have changed your mind.”

James didn't smile. “We were delayed.”

“Why?”

“There was another fight.”

“What about?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I do.” Megan scowled.

“Okay. Mark and Kyle were arguing over who'd get to ride the horse. I don't know who threw the first punch but by the time we were through, I was almost ready to cancel this afternoon's visit.”

“You can't blame me for that.”

“If I did, we wouldn't be here now,” James said flatly. “Any disturbance in our daily routine can have the same kind of upsetting effect. That's one of the things I've been trying to explain to you.”

“Then your so-called routine is too rigid,” she countered. “Kids need to have fun.”

“There's reassurance in sameness.”

“Balance is better.” Glancing at the overly subdued boys who were still standing in line behind him like baby ducks trailing their mother, she lowered her voice to ask, “Precisely what makes you think otherwise, Mr. Harris?”

“Besides my time in the school of hard knocks, you mean?” He made a soft sound of derision. “I have a master's in education. Will that do?”

“I wasn't questioning your abilities. I was just trying to figure out what makes you tick.”

“I don't tick. Neither does Camp Refuge. It hums like a well-oiled machine. At least it did until recently.”

Megan wasn't about to let him get away with a remark like that. She grinned. “Oh? Well, you know what happens to even the most expensive engine if you never change the oil. It grinds itself to death. And I think your oil needs changing, mister. You're starting to grind something awful.”

The resulting look on his face was so comical she had to giggle. Some of the boys began to chuckle, too. At her side, the spotted shepherd wagged his gray stub of a tail so vigorously his
whole body shook, yet somehow held his place by her side as she'd instructed.

She laid a steadying hand on the dog's head. “Good boy, Wiggles. Stay.”

The boys looked as eager to make the dog's acquaintance as he was to make theirs. Megan smiled broadly. “Does everybody here like dogs?”

Each child nodded in turn as she singled him out and waited for an answer. Satisfied, she said, “In that case, I'd like you to meet Mr. Wiggles. He loves everybody so you don't need to worry about anything but his kisses. Ready?”