“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.”
Gabi blew out a breath, picturing kindly old Oliver spending his entire salary—which, like any public servant who did the most important work in the univ
erse, was probably dismal—building a getaway for boys who so desperately needed one. She pictured Sam and Eve, who’d probably never had a chance to attend a camp before this lousy summer, and wondered how different they might be if they’d been given the chance to come somewhere like Camp Echo when they were younger.
“So really what you’re saying, Piper, is that my school has come in like a stereotypical corporate shmuck, and is railroading a man whose entire life has been focused on creating a safe, structured camp for kids who probably have very little of either of those qualities in their day-to-day lives?”
Piper put up both hands, palms up. “I’m not sure I said it quite that strongly.”
“Shit.”
Piper’s eyes widened, and then she laughed. “I’ve never heard you swear.”
“You’ve only known me for a week.”
“But still. Unexpected.”
“Even rich bitches swear, Piper.”
“Hey.” Her hands went up again, placating this time. “I never said that.”
Gabi closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know where that came from.”
“Maybe from constantly dealing with people assuming you are? Rich and bitchy, I mean?”
“Well, I’d be glad to show them my bank balance. It’d at least end the rich part of the equation.”
“You’re not bitchy, Gabi. Or if you are, you cover it well.”
Gabi looked down, scraping the last of her nail polish from her thumbnail. “Seems like Luke had the girls and I pegged well before we got here, and now I’m stuck fighting his assumptions, because of what he thinks my school is doing to his camp.”
“Can you really blame him? I mean, no offense, but really?”
“No.” Gabi sighed. “I guess not.”
“He’s just going by experience, Gabi. And to his credit, he does seem to be trying to put it aside, at least. He is helping you.”
“He is.” Gabi nodded. “He definitely is, and on one hand I’d love to just be grateful and thankful. But on the other hand, I can’t figure out if he’s doing it because he really does want to help, or because he’s afraid if he doesn’t help, he’ll be mounting a search party for my runaway girls within a week.”
“I imagine it’s a little bit of both.”
Gabi smiled. “Thanks. That was the part where you were supposed to weave a little platitude to make me feel better.”
“Oh.” Piper laughed. “Sorry. Missed it.”
“He walks around that camp like he owns the place, and he and Oliver have way more of a partner-ish sort of relationship than a director-to-handyman one. He’s got survival skills, and he can teach them.” She paused. “And he’s frighteningly intuitive about my girls. It doesn’t quite compute. He plays at being this uneducated handyman, but I’m not buying it.”
“You don’t think camp handymen come with the power to understand teenage females?”
Gabi snorted. “Does anyone come with that power?”
“Good point.”
“Did he go to college?”
Piper sighed, but continued smiling. “Are you here to do laundry? Or play Twenty Questions about the hot handyman?”
“I’m not—no.” Gabi felt her cheeks flush. “I’m just curious, that’s all. And he doesn’t like to talk about himself, at least to me.”
“Give him time. He’s kind of a grumpy old cuss, for a man so young. He’ll warm up eventually.”
“How long does this process generally take?”
“Well, a week ago, Luke was dead sure you were a princess getting brought down a peg for the summer, so that has to enter in.”
“I’m not a prin— Never mind.” Gabi took a deep breath, knowing Piper couldn’t possibly have any idea how deeply her words cut, and why. “I’m not the stereotype he has in his head. I’m really not.”
Piper smiled. “Might not be my place to say so, but I think he’s already figuring that out.” She shrugged. “And if it matters, Luke’s got a pretty finely tuned bullshit meter, so if he still thought you were rich-bitch material, you wouldn’t be getting the time of day from him, let alone help with the girls.”
“Um, thank you? I think?”
“Give it time, Gabi. I have a feeling you’ll be surprised by what both you and your girls could learn from Luke.”
Chapter 14
“Ceremonial flush?” Gabi laughed as she handed garbage bags of clean clothes to the girls, who’d jumped up from the picnic table as the Briarwood van had emerged from the leafy driveway into the tiny parking lot.
Sam smiled. “Apparently it’s a thing.”
“Yeah.” Eve piped up. “When you complete a plumbing project, after it passes inspection, you do a ceremonial flush.”
“And Luke made you wait till I got back to have this little ceremony?” Gabi laughed as she closed the van doors. “Gosh, I’m honored.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s quite an honor, Gabi. You should be so proud.”
“Oh, but I am.” Gabi squeezed Madison’s shoulder. “A flushing toilet is nothing to sneeze at here. We’re just one step from the Ritz now, girls.”
“Right.” Waverly half sneered, but couldn’t help but let a smile sneak through it. “Come see, Gabi, so we can actually start using the thing.”
The girls tromped down the pathway before her, setting their bags down outside the bathroom, which now had actual walls and a door. As the girls went inside, Gabi walked around the outside, feeling her eyes widen as she ran her hand along the planks, pausing to admire a dead-even row of nails.
“Didn’t think they could do it, did you?” Luke’s voice, soft and deep, startled her from behind. He was close—too close—and the feel of his breath on her ear sent signals to all sorts of places that really didn’t need to be awake right now, thank you very much.
“Um.” Flustered, she turned around to face him, but when she caught his amused smile, words fled her brain.
“Um?” His smile grew, and his dimple appeared. “We’ve been working our asses off all day on this, and I get um?”
“Sorry. It’s awesome! I can’t believe they got it done. You got it done. You all got it done.” She shook her head. Good Lord. It’d be helpful if some blood could return to her brain here.
“Hey, Gabi?” He—damn him—stepped six inches closer, and she found herself nose-to-pecs with his chest. She inhaled, expecting a mixture of sweat and man. He’d been working all day in the heat, after all. But what she smelled was soap, detergent, and was that aftershave? On a guy who didn’t seem to shave? “Don’t move.”
He lifted his hands, deadly close to her body, and a slew of thoughts went careening through her brain while her feet stayed frozen to the ground. Then he slid both hands into her hair, gently, slowly. What was he doing?
“Spider in your hair,” he finally said, stepping back, dangling a huge wolf spider from two fingers. Was it her imagination, or did his voice sound a little huskier than before?
Her hands flew to her hair as her eyes took in the huge black arachnid.
“Don’t worry. They’re ugly, but they’re harmless.” He backed up another step, letting the spider go on a tree branch.
She shivered, but she knew it was more from his touch than from the fear of a spider building a nest in her damn curls.
“Thank you.” Her voice was strangled, soft, and she swallowed hard, trying not to let him know just how strongly her body had reacted to his fingers skating gently through her hair.
“Welcome.” His eyes met hers, then lowered to her lips, then closed as he blew out a breath and turned away. “Okay. Girls are waiting.”
“Right. Girls. Yes.”
Gabi shook her head as she followed him around the bathroom to the doorway. Could she be any more pathetic? Had she thought he was going to kiss her or something? Why would she think that?
She took a deep breath as they reached the doorway, pasting on a bright smile as he turned around to motion her inside.
Gabi stepped inside, and her fake smile turned into a real one as she smelled the fresh lumber and saw four new stalls and an open area at the end, where the girls were standing.
“This will be the shower, eventually.” Eve pointed at the walls of the open area.
“Look!” Sam bounced her eyebrows up and down as she swung a stall door open and closed. “Doors!”
“Heck with that!” Waverly pointed inside a stall. “Toilets!”
Gabi laughed at their expressions. “And you guys did all this? Seriously?”
“They did.” Luke leaned against the door frame, arms crossed across the chest she’d almost reached out and touched just a minute ago. She wondered what it would feel like to slide her hands up inside that soft T-shirt, feel—
“Okay, girls.” Sam pointed. “Places, please.”
Gabi ripped her eyes away from Luke, but not before she caught a knowing arch to his eyebrows as he looked back at her. She shook her head, focusing on the girls as they each took up a position in a stall.
“Ready, set, flush!”
In unison, the four toilets flushed, and Gabi crossed her fingers, hoping everything actually worked. After how much effort they’d put in, she’d hate to see one of the pipes burst open, or see water come gurgling out of one of the bowls.
Each of the girls watched her own toilet, and Gabi would have laughed at their rapt attention had she not been just as invested in the process as they were. And then there was a collective whoop as they realized they’d done it.
“They work!” Eve’s eyes went wide. “We actually did plumbing, and it worked!”
“Oh, goodie.” Madison rolled her eyes for effect, but Gabi could see pride peeking through her bluster. “Now we’re qualified to help Hank in the dorm.”
“That’s a great idea.” Gabi nodded. “Hank could use some weekends off. And if you girls know how to handle this stuff now, maybe we could give him some time.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Waverly wagged a finger. “What happens at camp stays at camp. No one will know we got excited about toilets, understand?” She turned a slow circle, pointing at each of the other girls, and Gabi and Luke laughed.
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