“That’s it.” His grin was suddenly mischievous. “See you on the other side.” With that, he pushed off the platform and went sailing through the trees, leaving her sputtering in his wake.
What did he think he was doing? Because if he thought she was going to join him, he was sorely mistaken.
Great. She looked around, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She eyed the clip attached to cable. All she had to do was figure out how to undo that, then she could climb down off the platform. Problem was, Daniel had attached the thing so quickly, she hadn’t seen how it was done.
Standing on her tiptoes, she eyed the clip above her head. “That’s nothing more than a carabiner.” Not very secure, if you asked her. When she tried to open it, though, it wouldn’t budge.
“Problem?” Daniel hollered from the opposite platform some fifty yards away.
“How do I release this?” She motioned toward the carabiner.
“You have to—” A breeze blew through the trees just then, rustling leaves and pine needles and making it impossible to hear what he was saying.
“...twist the release,” she heard him say when the wind subsided. Something easier said than done. She couldn’t get the thing to turn.
Now she was getting annoyed.
“You could always join me over here,” he shouted.
“Or you could come back and help me.”
If you’re not cut out for this type of work...
Daniel’s words played across her mind, tormenting her. He thought she was a wimp.
Okay, so maybe she was used to playing it safe. But it wasn’t totally her fault.
Her parents had sheltered her, especially after her cancer diagnosis. And while it had initially bothered Blythe, she’d eventually come around to their way of thinking, choosing to push herself academically. Setting goals and doing whatever it took to attain them. Still, they were safe.
This—she stared at the ground some forty feet beneath her, then the expanse of cable that stretched between her and Daniel—this was way out of her comfort zone.
But it might be fun.
Where had that come from?
She recalled that summer she went to camp. The way she’d pored over the camp’s brochure prior to going. There had been one thing she’d wanted to try more than anything. But her dream of zip-lining had never come true.
Again, she stared across the expanse. Imagined flying through the trees. Could she really do it?
Life’s an adventure, Daniel had said.
She swallowed hard. She was not a wimp. And camp was about the kids.
She eyed Daniel across the way. She’d show him.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed off the platform. Exhilaration and a strange sense of freedom overtook her in those moments. And she had a feeling she’d never be the same again.
Chapter Four
Daniel had waited a long time for this day to arrive. Years of planning, prayers and dreams were about to come to fruition with the arrival of their first campers.
Except in his dreams, it was always warm and sunny. While today was cold and rainy.
Taking another sip of coffee, he watched raindrops pelt the windows of the chow hall. This was insane. The whole region was in the middle of a drought. The county hadn’t had any measurable rain all year. Barely any snow the past winter. Yet today it rains.
His heart sank. He could imagine the campers’ dismay as they slogged across the wet ground to their cabins.
God, I don’t understand it, but I know You’ve got a reason. And though he believed that with his whole heart, he still wished he knew what that reason was.
He turned as the front door opened. To his surprise, Blythe practically bounded inside, looking more relaxed than ever in her green Camp Sneffels rain poncho. She brushed off the hood, revealing a sassy ponytail in the place of the pristine bun she’d worn since the day she arrived. Her smile added a definite sparkle to her extraordinary eyes.
Shaking his head, he puffed out a chuckle. Whatever had transpired on that zip line yesterday had brought out a side of Blythe that seemed to surprise even her. By the time she’d joined him on the second platform, she’d been a different person—one fearless enough that she’d practically demanded they attempt the challenge course before heading back for dinner.
Spotting him now, she made her way across the stained-concrete floor. “When are the kids supposed to be here?”
“Between eleven and two.” Downing the last of his coffee, he peered over the rim of his cup to see her gaze narrowing.
“What’s wrong?” Her brow puckered. “I thought you’d be bouncing off the walls, eagerly anticipating their arrival.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Blame it on the rain.”
After a sharp glance toward the window, her eyes cut to him again. “What’s that got to do with anything? It’s barely more than a drizzle.”
“It’s enough to keep the kids from participating in all of these cool events waiting for them.”
Raindrops glistened off her poncho as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Daniel Stephens, I cannot believe you said that. Where’s your faith? It’s not like it’s going to rain all week. Matter of fact, I checked the weather app on my phone, and this should be out of here in a few hours.”
“I know. It’s just not the way things were supposed to go. I’ve been racking my brain, trying to come up with alternative ideas.”
“I thought that’s what this was for.” She swung her arms wide, sending a spray of droplets to the floor as she indicated the large open space where they stood. “Don’t you have some sort of backup plan?”
“Yes, however I don’t think watching a movie with a bunch of strangers would be much fun. I’ve been trying to come up with a game or something that would force the kids to interact with each other.”
Her arms fell to her sides. “And thereby get to know one another.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, why don’t we all put our heads together and see what we can come up with.”
“We?”
“Yes. You, me and the rest of this motley crew.”
He eyed the staff and volunteers scattered about the space. “I hate to ask them to give up what little is left of their free time.”
“Are you kidding? These people are invested in this camp. Don’t you know that they want to help?” Walking away, she headed toward the coffee station where Teri was huddled with several other volunteers who ranged from age nineteen to sixty.
He watched as Blythe chatted with them. Seeing the excitement in their eyes, he suddenly realized that he’d underestimated them. These folks had put their own lives on hold for almost three weeks, given up time with friends and family to devote themselves to those kids who would be joining them later today. How could he possibly leave them out?
Cup still in hand, he crossed to where Blythe was gathered with the other companions, feeling more positive about this little change in plans than he would’ve imagined.
“All right, let’s grab some coffee, pull up a chair and do a little brainstorming,” he heard her say as he approached.
Everyone scattered, some heading for coffee while others made themselves comfortable at a table.
Turning, Blythe almost bumped into Daniel. “Oh, you’re here.” Her hazel gaze lifted to his.
“I am. And I think this brainstorming session is a stellar idea.”
“You do?” Her perfectly arched brows lifted in surprise.
“Yes.”
“Oh. Well...” She reached for the creamer as though suddenly trying to busy herself. “The great thing about sharing ideas is that one may come up with something the rest of us would never think of.”
“That’s an excellent point.” He refilled his cup, wishing he’d thought of it, instead of allowing the rain
to derail him.
Watching her stir her coffee with a little wooden stick, he hoped his momentary lapse hadn’t cost him. Because despite stepping into the role of camp companion, Blythe was still the overseer for the Ridley Foundation. And he was the camp director, the one who was supposed to have everything figured out.
“Shall we?” Touching Blythe’s elbow, he urged her toward the group.
While she sat, he remained standing. “I appreciate each and every one of you, not only for volunteering here at Camp Sneffels, but for offering to help us figure out a way to turn what looks to be a rather damp arrival into something that will start these kids’ camp experience off with a bang.”
“Maybe they could roast marshmallows in the fireplace.”
“Good idea.” Daniel addressed the college-age fellow. “No camping experience is complete without roasted marshmallows.”
“What about some games?” a young woman offered.
“Games are a great idea,” he said. “But not just any game, because if you think about it, this could be a great opportunity for the kids to bond. Instead of going their different ways, they’ll all be together in here. We need to come up with some games that encourage them to talk and get to know one another.”
“Kind of like our team-building exercises yesterday,” said Teri.
“Exactly.” Blythe scanned the group. “Anyone know of some games that would be good for seven-to twelve-year-olds?”
Since Daniel’s internet search hadn’t yielded anything, he listened intently, particularly when Cindy, one of their companions, as well as an elementary school teacher, gave her input. He even made notes on his phone, wishing he had consulted someone like her when he was initially planning things. And if he was fortunate enough to have Camp Sneffels continue next year, he definitely would.
Forty-five minutes later, they had an entire afternoon of fun planned. They’d even given it a name. The Camp Sneffels Welcome Roundup. Juanita had agreed to make some special snacks, Levi was off to gather supplies for the games and Daniel found himself grateful to all of them for helping him on such short notice.
“Thank you.” He moved alongside Blythe as the group dispersed. “You took the bull by the horns and gathered everyone together. Now we’ve created the perfect opportunity for the kids to start bonding right away.”
“And isn’t that what you want?” She peered up at him. “I mean, half the fun of camp is making new friends.”
Her energy made him grin. “Sounds like you went to a camp or two back in your day.”
Her smile faltered a little. “I went once. And the best thing that came out of it was that I made a really good friend.”
“That’s cool. Are the two of you still friends?”
Blythe blinked, her expression suddenly vacant. “We will always be friends.” She drew in a breath. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
As she turned away, Daniel was pretty sure he saw tears in her eyes.
* * *
Blythe had to find a way out of this funk.
Rain continued to trickle from the late-morning sky as she lined up with Daniel, Teri and a handful of volunteers a little more than an hour after their meeting. Shivering beneath her rain poncho, she waited for the first campers to appear.
What was going on with her? First, she’d left her comfort zone by taking a leap of faith on the zip line, then the next thing she knew, she was making a tearful escape from the chow hall. She hadn’t cried in years. Of course, she hadn’t thought of Miranda in years, either.
Blythe peered up at the towering pines, their needles a vibrant green from the moisture. She and Miranda had been in their early teens when they met at camp and became fast friends. Afterward, they’d chatted daily via phone call or text and, since they didn’t live far apart, seen each other almost weekly. Blythe had never had a friend like Miranda, before or since. She’d been the only person Blythe could talk to frankly about life, boys, cancer...and the possibility of dying.
Then Miranda’s cancer returned. And within a year, she was gone, leaving Blythe to navigate the uncertainties of life by herself.
Lowering her gaze, she toed the dampened ground with her sneaker. She still wondered why God took Miranda and not her. Blythe had always been bitter about her cancer, while Miranda accepted hers. Miranda hadn’t deserved to die. No kid did. It just wasn’t fair.
She drew in a fortifying breath. After Miranda’s death, Blythe learned to keep everything inside. Call it self-preservation. All she knew was that if she didn’t feel, she wouldn’t hurt. And, over the years, she’d become a master. Which made these stupid tears even crazier.
Now, as the first vehicle headed their way, her armor was back in place and she could hardly wait to meet the seven-to twelve-year-olds she’d be spending this week with. She wanted to see these kids having the time of their lives and was beyond grateful to play just a small role in making sure they did.
She eyed Daniel then, recalling the disappointment she’d seen in his blue eyes earlier. Not to mention the spark of joy and excitement as the corporate input evolved into the Welcome Roundup. His passion for this camp and its campers ran deep, and she couldn’t help wondering why.
A silver minivan rolled to a stop, pulling her from her thoughts. When the side door slid open, an energetic little boy wearing an oversized Broncos baseball cap on his bald head hopped to the ground.
“Well, hello there.” Daniel’s blue eyes flickered with excitement as he stepped forward. “Welcome to Camp Sneffels.” His smile seemed to grow wider by the moment.
“I’m Micah.” The boy thrust out his hand. “And I’m eight.”
A tall, slender woman with medium-length brown hair chuckled as she emerged from the front seat to join her son. “He just celebrated his birthday.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Micah.” Daniel shook his hand. “I’m Daniel, and I’m a lot older than you.”
While the staff giggled, the boy simply peered up at Daniel with his snaggletoothed grin.
“You don’t look very old.”
Daniel winked and laid an arm over the boy’s fragile shoulders. “Micah, I have a feeling you and I are going to get along just fine.” He glanced at the man still in the driver’s seat. “You can park over there.” He pointed toward the open area to his right. “Then we’ll get Justin—” he waved the college student forward “—to show you all to the chow hall so we can get Mr. Micah checked in.”
“What about his meds?” Micah’s mother’s smile faltered momentarily, and Blythe noticed the trepidation in her dark eyes. She could only imagine how nervous the woman must be, entrusting the care of her child, who was in the fight of his life, to strangers for an entire week.
“Yes, you’ll take those with you. The medical staff will be there to make sure everything is in order.”
The woman’s quick nod had Daniel dipping his head to catch her gaze.
“Hey, he’ll be fine,” Daniel quietly assured her. “By the time you pick him up on Saturday, Micah will have so many memories to share, he might not stop talking for a week.”
Blythe was taken aback by his thoughtfulness. This tender side of Daniel was unexpected—not at all like the man who’d argued with her yesterday. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, his sensitivity to this mother’s feelings spoke volumes about his character.
“You’re probably right about that. He does like to talk.” Micah’s mother glanced toward her husband and son as the back of the minivan opened to reveal Micah’s bedding and luggage. “I’ve just never been away from him for this long before.”
“Tell you what,” said Daniel.
Blythe watched as Daniel pulled a business card and a pen from his pants pocket.
“Here’s my number.” He jotted it on the back of the card. “If you feel as though you can’t take it anymore, give me a call and I’ll let y
ou know everything he’s been doing.” He handed the card to Micah’s mother.
She accepted it with a relieved smile. “That’s very sweet of you. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The woman had taken the words right out of Blythe’s mind. It was very sweet of him to do that. Daniel genuinely cared. Something she would have scoffed at only a day or two ago.
Gravel crunched under tires, and Blythe turned as an SUV eased into a parking space. Moments later, another family stepped out, this time with a young girl. Blythe, Teri and Allison, the volunteer coordinator, went to greet them.
“Hello!” they said in unison.
Allison bent toward the girl. “Welcome to Camp Sneffels. I’m Allison, and these—” she gestured toward them “—are my friends Blythe and Teri.”
The girl Blythe guessed to be around nine or ten sported post-chemo blond hair and sparkling blue-green eyes. She bashfully looked up at them. “I’m Chloe.”
“We’re so glad you’re here, Chloe.” Allison glanced at her clipboard. “Oh, and how great is this? Blythe is your companion for the week.”
As she looked into the child’s beautiful eyes, Blythe’s heart pounded. Chloe had been entrusted to her for the next week. What if Blythe failed or did something wrong? Even worse, what if she opened her heart?
She looked away. No. She could not—would not—allow that to happen. She’d been capable of suppressing her emotions and keeping people at arm’s length for years. That wasn’t about to change.
Returning her attention to Chloe, she felt something shift inside of her. The angst that had gripped her for the last hour was gone, just like that, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation. Blythe would get to spend the entire week with this beautiful child. Suddenly, she understood why Daniel had been so bummed about the rain. Just the thought of all the fun things she’d get to experience with Chloe sent a wave of excitement racing through her. She was here to make sure Chloe had fun, and that was exactly what Blythe intended to do.
Giving herself a stern shake, she said, “I can hardly wait to get started.” Blythe took the girl’s suitcase from her father, then slipped an arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “We are going to have so much fun this week.” She could do this. She would do this. For Miranda, for Chloe and for every other child with cancer who faced a life of uncertainty. She would see to it that this girl had the best week ever.
Her Rocky Mountain Hope Page 4