She's Got a Way (14 page)

“Because it's not real. It's temporary. It's them being out of their element and under different supervision … temporarily.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “And you're convinced none of these cooperation skills could possibly transfer to their Briarwood lives?”

“I'm sure they
could
. But I'm just as sure they won't make it happen.”

“I'm not.”

She paused to look at him as he watched the girls put out the fire, covering the coals with dirt and water, just like he'd taught them.

“I appreciate your optimism, Luke, as misplaced as it might be.”

He half smiled, like he found her more amusing than the herd of girls he'd shepherded up the mountain.

“Well, misplaced optimism or not, it's been a good day, right?”

“Yes.” She'd allow him that. “It's definitely been a good day.”

“An-nd they're definitely too scared now to take off at night, right? So it'll be a good night, as well?”

“Definitely possible.” She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to say something about one-day-at-a-time being a camp mantra now?”

“I wasn't.” He shrugged. “But I could. We've made some baby steps here, Gabi. And that's something. Don't discount it. There's a long month ahead. Plenty of time for us to see what more we can do.”

“We?” She heard the word come out before she could stop it.

He turned toward her. “Or you. I'm not jumping in on your job here. Just offering to help, when you need it.”

“Okay.”

“But if you're ready to dismiss me, I'll just head on down the mountain and wait for you guys at camp.” He grinned.

“Not funny, Luke.”

“See? You do need me. At least a little.”

He turned, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't stop herself from letting her eyes travel his body.

Oh, she needed him, all right.

She just didn't
want
to, dammit.

 

Chapter 13

The next morning, Gabi and the girls slogged into the dining hall at seven o'clock, having been jogged out of bed by a bugle Luke had unearthed from God-knows-where. Gabi was not amused, but less amused were the girls, who still thought they should get to sleep in at least on the weekends.

“Good morning, ladies!” Luke called from the kitchen. “Bright eyed and bushy tailed, I see!”

Gabi looked at him, and before she could stop herself, swallowed hard. Clad in his customary cargo shorts and a dark blue T-shirt, with his hair still damp from the shower, he stood at a big griddle, spatula in one hand and coffee mug in the other. Yes, it was a summer camp dining hall, but it was such a sweet domestic picture that Gabi had to blink hard to shut down the thoughts it triggered.

The girls slithered onto picnic table benches and put their heads down on the table, groaning about the early hour, while Gabi made her way to the coffeemaker.

“A bugle? Really?”

Luke grinned. “Forgot I had that old thing.”

“Could you please forget again?”

“Nah. The girls kept getting up later every day. Had to nip it in the bud. We've got a lot to do today.”

Gabi took a long sip of her coffee. “It's the weekend, Luke. Do you ever give it a rest?”

“Nope. Saturday's just as good a day to work as any other. No way that project list will get done on five-day weeks, especially if we keep taking time out for hikes and stuff.”

“The hike was your idea, mister.”

“Yep. And it was a
good
idea.” He pointed to the girls. “Look at these exhausted young ladies. I love it!”

Waverly raised her head, but just barely. “Gabi? Are you paying him to be this annoying?”

“Nope.” Luke grinned. “I come by it naturally. Now, let's all eat some breakfast so we can head out and finish up that bathroom. If all goes well, I suspect we might, just might, be able to get this thing done today.”

“Really?” Madison raised her head. “Seriously?”

“Depends on how you ladies do, but it's definitely possible. Leach field and septic tank are all set. All you girls need to do is the above-ground part of the job.”

Gabi saw Sam crack a smile as she slid off the picnic table bench and headed for the plates. “I'd love for the rest of Briarwood to know the true way to your heart is a flushing toilet, princess.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Madison rolled her eyes and got up as well, followed by Waverly.

Gabi sighed. “An-nd we're back.”

“Nah.” Luke sipped his coffee. “Leave it to me.”

“That phrase should really, really scare me.”

He turned off the griddle and tossed the spatula into the soapy sink. “Piper said you need to do some laundry? And that you don't care to use the lake? Which I can hardly believe?”

Gabi smiled. “Yes. We have
piles
of laundry. And no, I have no desire to wash clothing in the lake. Piper said I could use her washer and dryer this morning, but that would mean leaving the girls with you.”

“And you're not sure that's a good idea?”

“Well … I'm more afraid that it's an incredible imposition.”

“You afraid for them? Or for me?”

She laughed. “Little bit of both, maybe?”

“Understandable.” He shrugged, pointing out the window to where the bathroom stood framed on its cement pad. “I've got eyes enough to watch them, and Oliver's here to call 911 if somebody slices off a finger. We're good to go.”

Gabi took a deep breath. “Do you
try
to be like this?”

“Nope.” Luke winked. “We're fine. Go do laundry. Have lunch in town. Take a break, Gabi. I imagine you don't get too many of those.”

The tone of his voice was sweet, caring … almost affectionate, and Gabi wasn't sure how to react. One week ago he'd stood beside the van with his arms crossed, obviously wishing he could turn them right around and send them back to Briarwood, and today? He was practically ordering her to go do something nice for herself while he did her job.

“Are you sure? I still have a thing about power tools. Just saying.”

He patted her shoulder gently. “I know you're paid to be a worrywart, but I officially give you permission to stop. They won't get hurt. And if they do, we have hospitals.”

“Luke.”

“Go, Gabi. We'll be fine, and just think—tonight? You'll have a bathroom.”

She turned toward her little crew, but before she could open her mouth to give them the list of dos and don'ts for while she was gone, Sam put up a hand to stop her.

“We know. Just go.”

Luke laughed, then covered his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Fine.” She smiled. “I'm gone. I'll expect running water when I get back, girls.”

They mock saluted as she headed out the door, but she stopped on the third step. With a sigh, she headed back up the stairs and poked her head through the door.

“Luke? Any chance you could tell me where Piper lives?”

*   *   *

“I never thought a hot shower could feel so good.” Gabi walked into Piper's living room, toweling her hair off. “Thank you so much.”

“You're so welcome.” Piper handed her a cup of coffee. “Come sit on my deck. I have a whole two hours off, and I intend to spend it sitting on my butt beside the river.”

Gabi laughed. Piper's condo was in a riverfront building that had housed a tiny mill, long ago. Its walls were aged brick, and sturdy wooden beams outlined the tall ceilings. The river-facing wall was almost entirely glass, and with the French doors open, the cascading water made a soothing, hypnotic sound.

They settled on lounge chairs, and Gabi let her head fall back, eyes closed. Yes, the camp cots were more comfortable than the plywood floor of the tent, but still. Cots left a lot to be desired. She was pretty sure, given ten straight minutes, she could fall asleep right here on Piper's chair.

She opened her eyes, lest she do exactly that. “I don't know how you ever
leave
your house, Piper.”

“I know.” Piper nodded. “Someday Noah and I will build a log cabin on a hill, but for now, this is pretty perfect.”

“It'd be hard to give up, even for a house on the hill.”

“Well, we almost had a house on the lake, right next to Camp Echo, but that went up in a poof of regulatory smoke.”

“Oh, no. What happened?”

Piper set down her mug. “When Noah moved here, he and Luke had this grand plan to buy the property next to the camp. They were going to turn it into a corporate team-building type of place, where leadership teams would come and find their Zen by doing all of these high-risk activities and stuff.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Gabi sipped her coffee, picturing Luke working with corporate clients the way he'd been leading her girls the past few days.

“It was. Or it would have been. They were
this
close to signing the paperwork last spring when a title search turned up something screwy. Long story short, they lost their loan, and after a lot of legal wrangling, the property ended up in a nature conservatorship of some sort. Can't ever be developed.”

“And now my rich-chicks' school has bought Luke's camp property.” Gabi nodded, things suddenly becoming clearer. “He's not having a very good year, is he?”

“That would be putting it mildly.”

“Does he really think Briarwood aims to turn Camp Echo into a little lakeside paradise for the rich and richer?”

Piper raised her eyebrows. “You don't?”

“No. Why would they? We, I mean? It's an investment property, as far as I can tell.”

“Exactly. And how much return on that investment do you think they'll get if they continue to cater to underprivileged kids?”

“I'm sure it's not about … profit.”
Was it?

“Does Briarwood do a lot of other community-support types of things? Because if you do, that might be something Luke would really like to hear. Might make him believe things are remotely on the up and up here.”

Gabi nodded. “Of course we do.” She'd sat through enough board meetings where a hundred dollars was approved for the food bank, or fifty bucks went to the homeless shelter, but she cringed internally when she pictured Priscilla asking—
every
damn time—whether Briarwood would get public credit for the donation.

Then she pictured Laura, the board chair, gaveling Priscilla.

And really? Was fifty dollars here or there really making a difference in anyone's universe? Gabi knew the size of their endowment. It was crowed in every annual report. But what did that money actually get used for? Priscilla's salary? Renovations on a dorm that didn't need them? A BMW van, for goodness' sake?

When she'd first heard last week about the purchase of Camp Echo, she'd entertained momentary hope that finally this endowment was being used to actually serve a needy population … that Briarwood was finally embracing a role as a steward of a community that needed one.

That
was
what they were doing here. It had to be.

She took a deep breath. “I had no involvement in the purchase, obviously, but I guess I'd like to think my school is acting in good faith.”

Piper looked at her sidelong. “I don't want to insult your school, Gabi, but have you seen the list of projects they gave Luke? It doesn't look like they have
any
intention of keeping things running the way they've always been run.”

“I've only seen a list that Luke showed the girls one day when they were prioritizing projects, but it had silly stuff on it like a TV lounge and a performance stage. It was just a joke list he printed up so they'd all agree that a bathroom was top priority.”

Piper looked out at the river, and Gabi could tell she was trying to choose her next words carefully. “That wasn't a joke list, Gabi.”

“What?” Her stomach jumped. No way. “It had to have been.”

“That's the list they presented Luke with when they did the site visit in May … the same site visit where they told him they were shutting the place down for the summer.”

“Oh, no.” Gabi's head spun as she pictured a bunch of suits walking the camp property with Luke, then handing him that ridiculous list as they tried not to make eye contact with each other, lest he smell a rat.

“So you can see why he'd be worried.”

“I'm—this can't be—I don't know what to think. Couldn't it be possible that they're just trying to improve the property? Bring it up to the standard of others in the area?”

“With a performance stage? A workout facility?” Piper's eyebrows were heading higher up her forehead, and Gabi didn't know what to say to bring them back down. It didn't look good. It really, really didn't look good.

She lifted her coffee cup to her lips, staring at the cascading water. Was Piper right? Was
Luke
right? Was Briarwood turning this decrepit—yet gorgeous—little property into some sort of sparkly girls' camp, without being honest with Oliver and Luke?

Her voice was unsteady as she replied. “I'm not sure that's automatically damning, though I can see why it would have Luke's and Oliver's hackles up. But boys use stages and workout rooms, too. Maybe they're really trying to improve the place.”

“It's possible.”

“But not likely.” Gabi nodded slowly. “I can hear that loud and clear in your tone.”

Piper shrugged. “I just call it as I see it. And what I see doesn't look good for Oliver and Luke, which makes it really hard to sit back and watch it happen.”

“How long have they been at this? How long's the camp been here?”

“Thirty years.”

Gabi felt her eyebrows fly upward. “Seriously?”

“Yup. Oliver used to be a victims' advocate in the court system. After a few years, he figured he could do kids more good by trying to intercept them before they
got
to the court system, so he applied for a slew of grants, and dumped every last cent into buying this piece of property. He ran it as a normal camp for a lot of years while he built it up, and then as time went on, he narrowed the focus so it catered to at-risk boys, mostly teenagers.”