Secrets & Seductions

by Pamela Toth

  Jeff and Derrick had dealt with skinned knees, blisters, insect bites, scratches and a sprained wrist. Morgan had mediated a couple of quarrels and meted out extra chores for minor rule infractions.

  His temporary office consisted of borrowed space in the lodge. It contained a scarred wood desk, two chairs, one of which wobbled on unsteady legs, and a file cabinet. Brief histories on each camper were kept in its one locking drawer.

  Morgan did paperwork by lantern light. Someday, he thought, he’d probably go blind from the strain, but watching the changes taking place in his charges was easily worth the sacrifice. The smiles and sounds of laughter kept him coming back every year.

  He sealed an envelope, stuck a stamp on the front and thought about calling his parents. After their recent visit to Portland, they’d gone home via Highway 101 down the Oregon coast.

  He glanced at his watch, surprised at the time. His parents turned in early and rose with the dawn for an early walk, so maybe he’d call tomorrow instead.

  Pushing back his chair, he stretched his arms overhead to ease the kinks. In the morning he was taking the older boys on a hike. If he was lucky, none of them would try sneaking a smoke. Summer forest fires were always a danger. Camp rules about contraband were strictly enforced, bags searched upon arrival and violators sent home early. Despite every precaution, the stuff still found its way in. Kids thought they could outwit the grown-ups.

  Morgan got to his feet and bent from the waist, letting his arms hang limp. As the blood rushed to his head, he peered between his bare legs and saw two feet in sturdy shoes appear in the doorway.

  “You busy?” asked a familiar female voice.

  “Just hanging around,” he quipped before straightening back up and turning around. His face felt hot.

  “Ha ha,” Emma said dryly, but at least she smiled.

  “Come on in,” he invited, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

  He was pleased with the job she’d been doing. Not only did she appear to fit in easily with the other adults, but her warm manner seemed to endear her to many of the children, as well. She had brought up a few of her concerns during staff meetings, but this was the first time she had sought Morgan out alone.

  “Am I interrupting?” She held up two mugs. “I brought you some decaf, black with one sugar.”

  She handed it to him as he pulled out a chair.

  “I’ve just finished,” he replied, flattered that she had noticed his preference. “Have a seat.”

  For a moment they studied each other silently as they blew on their steaming mugs. There was a line he didn’t cross when it came to female co-workers, either here or at the agency, but the tug of attraction he felt toward Emma was persistent despite his attempts to ignore it.

  He couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.

  “Have you gotten anywhere with Heather?” he asked. The young teen’s file indicated that a temporary placement had recently gone sour and she’d been sent back into foster care. Emma was concerned that she might be anorexic.

  “She doesn’t eat much,” Emma replied. “I know it’s the style to be thin, but she seems so withdrawn. Franny’s keeping an eye on her, but I’m thinking about sending a report to Heather’s caseworker when we get back. I’m not an expert, though. What do you think?”

  “That would be appropriate,” Morgan replied.

  Despite her obvious concern, Emma’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm when she talked about a couple of the other campers. “Emily and Petie seem to have bonded. Petie makes friends easily and she draws shy Emily along with her.”

  “I’m glad you came with us this year,” Morgan blurted, trying not to stare at her soft lips. Realizing that she might take his remark personally, he quickly added, “You’re great with the kids and you work hard.”

  “Thanks, boss,” she replied, smiling widely as though they were sharing a joke. “Sounds like I can count on you for a good recommendation.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” he asked, sipping his decaf. “It can’t be merely for the generous salary and the employee benefits.”

  She set down her coffee with a considering expression. “It pays better than the video store where I was working and I thought it would be a terrific addition to my résumé,” she reminded him after a moment.

  Morgan ignored the whisper of disappointment. What had he expected her to say? And what would she do if he leaned forward and kissed that satiny mouth? If she didn’t pull away, would it be because she liked him or because he was the boss and she had no choice?

  “Any job leads?” he asked.

  She shook her head with a rueful expression. “All the school districts seem to be facing budget constraints, but something will come up.” Sitting back, she pushed at her hair with both hands. The motion emphasized the shape of her breasts in the gray Husky T-shirt.

  He wanted to ask if she’d gone to the University of Washington, but figured it would make her aware of the direction of his gaze. Instead he dragged it back to her face.

  He noticed a smile playing at the corners of her full mouth. Was she flirting? He would have to be more careful to hide his own attraction. After everything she had been through, she must feel vulnerable. He would never take advantage.

  “I think it’s really wonderful what you’re doing here,” she said. “It’s nice to see someone taking the time to make a difference.”

  The part of him struggling to overcome his desire to pull Emma into his arms ached for her to see him as a dynamic and desirable male rather than a kindly scout leader. “It’s a group effort,” he reminded her. “The Logans have been especially supportive.”

  “Well, it’s great.” Emma glanced at her watch and shot to her feet. “I’d better let you finish up,” she said, her cheeks pink. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long.”

  “I appreciate the decaf,” he said, holding up his empty cup as he, too, stood up. “Was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

  The play of the lantern light against her face cast a soft glow on her exquisite bone structure while the shadows turned her eyes to mysterious pools. He felt a jolt of regret that he must not act on his attraction, but he quickly brushed it aside. As long as they were here at the camp, his hands were tied. But afterward he might see whether she returned his interest.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” Emma replied, her warm smile restored as she reached out for his mug. “I’ll wash these out.”

  “Thanks again,” he replied as she turned away.

  He listened as her footsteps grew fainter. Without her presence in the office, the light seemed to have dimmed and the air felt chillier.

  Morgan scrubbed a hand over his face. He was getting fanciful, but tomorrow he would need his wits for the hike. The older boys were always a challenge, one that would surely take his mind off Emma.

  As Emma supervised some of the younger boys who were seated at an outdoor table doing leather crafts, she kept thinking about Morgan. For the last few days she had made every excuse to seek him out. Franny and Sarah had begun to tease her, and she’d noticed Jeff elbow him last night as the campfire broke up and she approached Morgan with a question.

  The other staff members were protective of their leader, but none of them suspected the real motive behind Emma’s pursuit. The better she got to know Morgan, the more difficult it became to stick to her plan. Not only was he physically attractive, but he seemed to be a genuinely terrific guy. Too nice for what she had in mind, she thought with a sigh. Giving up wasn’t an option, so what choice did she have but to proceed?

  “Emma, am I doing this right?” asked a little boy named Carl, distracting her.

  She looked down at the wallet he was making as a gift for his secret buddy at the end of the session. The two pieces of leather were laced up incorrectly. She should have been paying closer attention, but the mistake could be corrected.

  “I think we need to undo this part,” she said after she’d studied the wallet for a minute.
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br />   “I’ve ruined it!” he cried dramatically. “I knew I couldn’t do it right.”

  The other boys looked on with interest as Carl stamped his foot. His eyes filled with tears and his face flushed dark red.

  Emma immediately squatted down so she was at eye level with the little boy. Carl and his younger brother had been split up a few months before when a couple opted to adopt only one of them. Even though Carl insisted that he understood why he had been left behind, he’d been acting out ever since. His foster parents were at their wits’ end, hoping this break would be good for all three of them.

  “The wallet’s not ruined,” Emma said softly as she pulled out the vinyl laces. “I’ll show you what to do, okay? The stitches were nice and even. You’re doing a good job, see?”

  It was hard to keep herself from scooping him into a hug, but she didn’t want to embarrass him further in front of the other boys. She contented herself with a grin and a wink.

  In a few moments she had undone the stitching and shown him where he went wrong. As soon as he sat down with a gusty sigh and went back to work, she checked on the progress of the other wallets and key cases.

  The sunny weather had been perfect all week, more comfortable than the muggy heat wave back in Portland. Ivy had complained about it when Emma had called last night to make sure her cat wasn’t pining away. After lecturing Emma about not doing anything foolish, Ivy reassured her that Posy was fine.

  As Emma sat at the table with the boys in her craft class, she tipped back her head and looked at the intensely blue sky through the tops of trees. The straight trunks of the Douglas firs seemed to go up for miles.

  “Look,” she said to Carl as she pointed. “I’ll bet that’s a hawk perched on that dead spar tree.”

  “Yesterday we saw a pair of bald eagles,” he told her excitedly. “Jeff took us on a nature walk around the lake. He said eagles were endangered, but they’re coming back and that you can always recognize them by their white heads.”

  “We saw some deer tracks, too,” added one of the other boys.

  “And rabbit poop!” shouted a third, which of course sent them all into paroxysms of laughter and made Emma smile.

  “Did you see any wildflowers?” she asked with an innocent expression.

  “Flowers! No way!” two of them exclaimed in unison.

  For a few minutes Emma asked them more about the various birds, animals and plants they had seen. The sun warmed her bare arms as an intermittent breeze blew through the dry trees.

  The sound of Morgan’s voice in the distance alerted Emma that he was back from town. She ignored the flutter of anticipation she felt.

  A little while later, he appeared on the path from the lodge wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.

  “How’s Mohammed?” Emma called out.

  At the sound of her voice, Morgan changed direction. Perhaps it was her imagination, but his expression behind the tinted lenses seemed to brighten as he came over to the table.

  “Mo needed a few stitches, but he’ll be fine,” Morgan said, removing his shades as he glanced at the boys with her. “I suppose everyone heard what happened.”

  “It was the hot topic at breakfast,” Emma replied. “Derrick said he sliced open his hand while he was helping Cookie. Derrick bandaged the cut, but he thought it needed stitches.”

  “Did he bleed in the food?” Carl asked.

  “Only yours,” Emma told him, laughing.

  “We wanted to make sure that Mo hadn’t damaged any tendons,” Morgan explained. “I drove him to the walk-in clinic in Sisters. It’s about fifteen miles from here.”

  Some of the others had talked about the town one night at the campfire. Emma remembered someone saying that it had a quaint western ambience.

  “Did they use regular thread to sew him up?” asked one of the boys she was helping.

  “That’s gross!” exclaimed another. “Do you think he’ll let us see it?”

  “I guess you’ll have to ask Mo about all that later,” Morgan replied, folding his arms across his wide chest. “He came back with me, but right now he’s resting.”

  Morgan wore baggy gray shorts and a royal-blue polo shirt that matched his eyes. His muscular legs had the same golden tan as his face and arms.

  After seeing him dressed this way for more than a week, it was getting more difficult for Emma to conjure up the image from her first meeting with his alter ego in the suit and tie.

  Her frustration at that meeting was much easier for her to recall. When she thought about him, which seemed to be most of the time, that frustration was what she needed to remember—not how great he looked.

  While the boys continued to hash over the idea of getting their skin pierced with a sewing needle, Morgan switched his attention to Emma.

  “There’s something I need to discuss with you,” he said, flashing his white teeth. “Think you could leave these ruffians alone for a minute?”

  Her heart began to thump as she got up from the table. “Sure, I g-guess so,” she stammered.

  Her physical attraction to him was as unwanted as it was unexpected. She had to stay focused. With a slight feeling of trepidation, she followed him as he put several feet between them and the table.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked, glancing down at the ground, covered with dry needles. “Something I’ve done wrong?”

  “What? Oh, no, not at all. You’ve been doing a terrific job.” Morgan must have seen the concern on her face, because he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Especially for a city slicker,” he added teasingly.

  His words eased away her sudden tension and her shoulder tingled pleasantly from his touch.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” She laced the fingers of both hands together. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I need a favor,” he said gravely.

  Something sparked inside her. She had to swallow the word anything before it could pop out of her mouth.

  “What’s that?” she asked, cheeks flushing.

  “You work so hard as it is,” he continued, apparently oblivious to her stumbling response. “If we shuffle your duties around, could you fill in for Mo? It’s just for a couple of days until another volunteer can get here.”

  “You want me to sleep with the boys in Falcon?” she asked, using the group name they had chosen. Mohammed’s group was in their early teens and she had noticed a couple of them ogling her when they thought she wasn’t looking.

  Morgan looked startled. “No, no. I wouldn’t ask that of you. Mo will continue to supervise Falcon, but he’s not supposed to get his hand wet, so he can’t help Cookie. I know you’re doing a lot of the KP already, but Sarah and Franny are working with the girls on the final skit, or I’d ask them.”

  Emma’s flush deepened. She’d been so busy gawking at Morgan like a girl with a crush that she had leaped ahead. “I get along great with Cookie. Of course I’ll be happy to do whatever I can.”

  “Great, thanks. Cookie’s got lunch under control, but he’ll talk to you about supper, okay?” Morgan backed away. “I’ve got a lot to do, so I’ll see you later.”

  After two days of helping out with meals as well as fulfilling her counselor duties, not only was Emma bone-deep exhausted, but she’d had no time to further her relationship with Morgan. Who would have had any idea that preparing camp food would take up so much time?

  Not her.

  Even with everyone else pitching in when they could, Cookie worked darned hard. He insisted on making everything from scratch, serving well-balanced and nutritious meals. For dinner tonight they’d had a green salad, baked chicken, seasoned rice, peas and sourdough biscuits.

  While he was in the dining room serving the brownies he’d baked for dessert, Emma had been putting away the last of the clean pots and pans Heidi had washed. As Emma wiped off the counter for the last time, she started thinking about the countless family meals and holiday dinners she had shared with the people she’d thought were her parents.

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bsp; Her mother was a wonderful cook who loved to entertain. She had teased Emma on more than one occasion about her lack of interest in cooking. Emma knew the basics, but she had never shared Sally Wright’s passion for reading cookbooks and clipping new recipes from magazines.

  Memories flooded over Emma as she rinsed out the cloth she had used on the counters. Convulsively she clenched it in her fist as she stood at the sink with her head bowed.

  Guess you really knew all along why I didn’t share your talent in the kitchen, Mom, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears from leaking out.

  The Wrights didn’t even know she was here. They still left phone messages for her at the apartment, but she never returned their calls. Of course that didn’t mean she didn’t miss them. Beneath her hurt and anger, she still loved them both.

  Otherwise knowing the truth wouldn’t have been so hard.

  She understood now why people spent their entire lives searching for their biological parents, or looking for the baby they had once chosen to give up. It might appear selfish or intrusive, but Emma got it, she really did.

  Her own situation hadn’t been getting any easier to accept as time passed. It grew more difficult, her need to know more desperate.

  She was unable to move forward, to go on with her life until she knew what lay behind her. What were the circumstances of her birth and why, why, why had she been placed for adoption at all?

  Hearing a noise behind her, she pinned a smile on her face, blinked away any telltale tears and turned around, expecting to see Cookie in the doorway. Instead Morgan stood there with a plate in his hand.

  “I saved you a brownie.”

  He knew that seeking her out was probably a mistake. They had gotten in the habit of exchanging a few words after the campfire was over, or when she stopped by his office as he did paperwork. He hadn’t realized how much he looked forward to seeing her until tonight when she hadn’t shown up. He should have let it go.