She tilted her head. “What do you know about camping?”
He grinned. “Everything. I used to be a marine.”
“So if enemy forces attack the beach, you’ll know just what to do?”
“Exactly.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I’m great with camp food.”
“Do you know how often little girls have to go to the bathroom in the night? They always wake up an adult. They aren’t allowed to do anything by themselves. Everything is the buddy system. Are you prepared for that?”
“This isn’t about me, it’s about Allison. If I went, she would fit in with the other girls. She wouldn’t be the only one without a guy. I might not be her father, but I’m a pretty good substitute.”
Cindy blinked several times. It took him a moment to figure out she was fighting tears. “You’ve only known my children six weeks, but you’re already a better father than Nelson ever was.” She sniffed. “Thanks, Mike. I really appreciate your offer and I hope the campout isn’t too horrible for you.”
“It’ll be fun.”
She moved close to him. “Let’s go tell Allison. She’ll be thrilled.”
Her gaze met his. He could see the tears darkening her irises to the color of emeralds. Her mouth trembled. He wanted to claim it with his own. Not because he wanted her—although he did—but to comfort her. Because he cared.
Caring scared him more than a psycho with a .45. It scared him more than dying.
Chapter Eleven
“Is everybody ready?” Cindy asked.
Six little girls looked at her and nodded earnestly. She raised her hands to cover her ears and yelled, “Go!”
Instantly, the loud, high-pitched scream of whistles filled the air. The seven-year-olds kept blowing until Cindy could feel the pounding start high in her temples. She forced herself to keep smiling. She’d learned a lot of tricks on camping trips with Jonathan and this was one of them.
“What are you doing?” Mike yelled over the sounds of the whistles.
She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she read his lips. “Getting it out of their systems. They have to wear their whistles at all times and blow them if there’s an emergency. It’s just too much temptation for most kids. This way—” The sound stopped. Cindy lowered her hands to her sides and glanced at the girls. They giggled together. After one or two short peeps, there was blissful silence.
“This way,” she continued in a normal voice, “they’ve had their fun. Now they can ignore the whistles unless there’s a problem.”
He shook his head. “It’s not like the marines.”
“I’ll bet.”
She followed his gaze and saw about sixty little girls and their fathers milling through the camp. The kids were sleeping in platform tents. Most of the tents had yet to be erected. Fathers, some experienced campers, most not, argued with one another and their children over the best way to put up the tents.
The adults slept on the ground. Mike had already taken care of putting up their two small tents and Cindy was grateful. Camping wasn’t her favorite activity, but she was willing to be here for Allison. Helping her daughter have a good time was all that mattered.
The crowd had no order, no leadership. Loud voices rose. Some of the girls were already crying. “You want to take over as drill sergeant?” she asked.
“Don’t tempt me.”
Cindy returned her attention to the six girls. Each small group had a woman assigned to them. It meant the fathers didn’t have to deal with personal business such as supervising showers. Not that the girls were going to bathe very much over the next four days.
Most of the men were talking to one another and not their children. Cindy supposed they didn’t know what was expected of them. There was going to be a general meeting in about a half hour, then dinner. At the meeting, the camp director, Mrs. Stewart, would explain the rules of the camp.
“We should probably get the cook fire started now,” Cindy said. “That way the coals will be ready when the meeting is over.”
“Coals?” He raised his eyebrows. “You guys really rough it, huh?”
“They are just little girls.” She smiled. “Wait until you see dinner.”
“Fast food?”
“No, prepared plates. I made one for you. Everything is cooked. We just heat it over the fire. Sort of like an open-air microwave.”
“You’re kidding?”
She leaned close. “Did you expect them to hunt for their meals? Maybe eat grubs and berries?”
His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “At least they’d learn something that way.”
“Yeah, they’d learn they didn’t like camping.”
They exchanged a look of understanding and connection. Cindy felt the pull clear to her belly. She tried to resist it as much as she could. There was no reason for them to impress anyone here with their supposed relationship. They could drop the act and go back to being friends. But she found she didn’t want to. She liked Mike putting his arm around her and holding her close. She liked the way he looked at her as if he thought she was pretty. She liked pretending it was real.
A very dangerous line of thought, she told herself.
Before she could say or do something, she was rescued by a pretty woman holding a can of bug repellent.
“Hi, Cindy. I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Pam,” the woman said. Her thick brown hair was cut short. Green eyes danced with humor.
“Of course I do.” Cindy grinned. “You were at the last campout I came on. It was all boys then.”
Pam nodded. “Girls should be a lot easier. At least we won’t have that snake-catching contest.”
Both women shuddered.
“Is your husband with you?” Cindy asked.
Pam laughed. “Are you kidding? Pass up an opportunity to sleep in dirt and fight with fire ants? He wouldn’t miss it.” She glanced at Mike. “And this is...?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mike Blackburne, this is Pam East. Mike is a friend of the family. He’s my daughter’s substitute father for the weekend.”
They shook hands. “Nice of you to come along,” Pam said.
“I wanted to,” Mike told her.
Pam held up the can of spray. “I’m responsible for insect dieting. If you haven’t sprayed up, you need to. The girls, too. Any of you need an extra dose?”
“No, thanks. We coated the girls before we let them out of the car.”
“See you,” Pam said and walked to the next group of children.
Cindy watched her go. “It’s not fair,” she said when the other woman was out of earshot.
“What isn’t fair?”
“Pam and Steve. They’re a great couple. I met them the last time I came camping. They accompany several campouts each summer, giving up their vacation time.” She looked at Mike and grimaced. “They don’t have any kids of their own. They’ve been trying for years, but nothing. They’re hoping for a private adoption. Who knows how long that’s going to take.” She drew in a deep breath. “Last I heard, they’d about given up. It’s a shame. There are parents like Nelson who don’t even care about their kids, then there are people like Pam and Steve who can’t have them.”
“You mean, they come on the campouts just because they want to help?”
He sounded so startled, she laughed. “Yes, Mike. Some people like children.”
“I don’t dislike them. I’m just surprised.”
“That there are good people in the world?”
“Maybe. I don’t see a lot of them in my line of work.”
She wanted to go to him and hold him. Before she could give in to the impulse, a call came for the camp meeting. Cindy and Mike collected the girls and walked slowly toward the open meeting area.
A small platform had been built at one end. Everyone settled on the ground. Cindy sat down cross-legged and realized her butt was too old to be comfortable without a real chair. Mike struggled to find a comfortable position. If the look on his face was anything
to go by, the healing muscles in his thigh weren’t happy about being stretched out. Allison shimmied between them and plopped onto the ground.
She grinned. “I like camping.”
Cindy brushed Allison’s bangs out of her face. “You haven’t actually done any yet.”
“But I still like it.”
“I’m glad.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead.
The camp director, Mrs. Stewart, stepped up onto the platform. She welcomed everyone to the father-daughter camp, then proceeded to read from a list of rules. Cindy knew most of them by heart. The most important one was the buddy system. No child was to go off by herself. Anywhere. Not even to the rest room. The talk went on.
Cindy glanced around the open area. It had been cleared of brush and trees. There were patches of grass, but by late July, hundreds of campers’ feet had worn most of it away. Tall trees ringed the camp. In another half hour or so they would provide shade from the sun. Cindy wiped her forehead. It wasn’t too bad, only in the eighties. For a Houston summer, that was practically chilly. The humidity was low, too, which was a pleasant change.
“The beach is off-limits tonight,” Mrs. Stewart was saying. “The alligators are out.”
“Alligators?” Mike asked quietly.
“Sure. They’re in the river.” She smiled. “This is swampland, what did you expect?”
“You camp near alligators?”
“It’s a great punishment if the kids get out of hand. We just hold them by their ankles and dangle them over the water.” She could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but she kept her face serious.
Allison looked at her. “Really?” she asked, her eyes big.
Cindy nodded.
“I’ll be good, Mommy.”
“I know you will.”
“So that’s how it is,” Mike said and winked.
It was a silly meaningless gesture that made her tingle all the way to her toes.
When the meeting was over, Allison and her friends scrambled to their feet. The parents rose more slowly. Mike stood up and held out his hand. Cindy placed her fingers against his and allowed him to pull her up. She brushed off her shorts, then grimaced.
“We forgot to start the fire for dinner. The girls are going to be hungry and cranky.”
“No problem,” he said. “I saw starter cans in with the cooking supplies.”
When they got back to their section of the camp, three men had collected around the fire pit. They were arguing over the best way to start the fire. One little girl stood nearby, her expression mutinous.
“But, Daddy, we can’t use starter fluid. It’s against the rules.”
“Do you want to follow the rules, or do you want to eat?” the man asked, obviously annoyed.
“Try these,” Mike said, handing him a starter can. He then showed the man how to stuff newspaper into the can, followed by charcoal briquettes. Mike lit the paper on fire. After a few minutes, he used tongs to pull away the can.
Allison laughed and clapped her hands together. “They’re already red.”
Cindy smiled. “I’m impressed, Blackburne.”
The children got out their prepared dinners and set them on the grill. One girl had a whole yam. Mike looked at it, then at her. “Honey, this isn’t going to cook until morning.”
“Mommy said it would be good for me. Lots of vitamins. I don’t have anything else.” Her voice trembled.
Allison spoke up. “I’ll share my dinner,” she said. “I have lots.”
The two girls sat next to each other on a log. Mike stepped around it and moved next to Cindy. “Don’t ever question your abilities as a parent.”
She stared at her youngest, then shook her head. “I’d like to take credit for that, but I think it’s just her. She’s a sweet kid.”
Slowly, all the meals were heated and everyone sat down to eat. Several of the men jockeyed for position, as if one’s status at a campout was as important as the hierarchy in a boardroom. A few fathers ignored the posturing and settled beside their daughters, clearly enjoying the time with them.
Mike stayed near Allison and her new friend. He made sure they had enough to drink, then brought Cindy her meal. When everyone had eaten and the plates had been cleared away, he and Steve started the marshmallow detail so everyone could have S’mores.
Mrs. Stewart came by and began singing camp songs.
“Something tells me this isn’t how the marines do it,” Cindy said, leaning close to Mike. He was helping a girl fit a marshmallow over the end of a green stick. When the sticky treat caught fire, he blew it out and gently directed her to hold it over some smoldering coals.
“We didn’t roast a lot of marshmallows,” he admitted, leaning back against the log. “But we did sit around fires at night.”
“Telling lies about women?”
“Mostly.”
It was nearly dark, but she saw the flash of white teeth as he smiled. “What were your lies?”
“That I knew any woman. I was very skinny when I was eighteen.”
She almost mentioned the fact that he’d definitely filled out some since then, but managed to hold back the words. Mike had enough trouble with women falling all over him without her starting to do it, too.
When all the girls had their fill of dessert, he roasted a couple of marshmallows for her. The off-key singing continued. Songs about stars and animals and old folk tunes. The children laughed when they didn’t know the words, or made up new ones. Cindy liked the closeness of the moment, and the feel of Mike next to her. When he put his arm around her, she leaned against his shoulder.
“I like Pam,” he said.
Cindy glanced through the smoldering fire and saw Pam and Steve sitting across from them. They were feeding each other marshmallows and smiling in that special way lovers do.
“Why?” she asked.
“She barely noticed I was alive.”
Cindy laughed. “You’re right. She wasn’t the least bit impressed by you.” Her laughter faded as she studied the couple. “They’re so happy together. I envy them. They have everything I always wanted.”
“I’m tired, Mommy,” Allison said and crawled into her lap. The child shifted so she was half on Mike, as well, then rested her head on his chest.
Mike touched her daughter’s hair. “You have what they want,” he said quietly.
He was right, Cindy thought. Life wasn’t fair. But sometimes, like now, it was very close to perfect.
* * *
“Cindy, wake up.”
Someone was shaking her arm. She pulled the sleeping bag up over her head. “Go away.”
“I’m going to stay right here until you wake up.”
That voice. She recognized it. What was Mike doing in her bedroom? What was she doing sleeping on the ground?
“Oh, we’re camping,” she muttered and raised her head. “What do you want?” She squinted. “It’s still dark. Go away. Do you know how many times I had to take little girls to the bathroom last night? Fifty-seven. Or was it twenty? I can’t remember. I just know I barely got any sleep.”
“You have to get up.”
She pushed the hair from her eyes. “You’re disgusting,” she said, glaring at his smiling face. “No one should look that good in the morning. I feel as puffy and attractive as a blowfish. Go away.”
Mike glanced over his shoulder, then reached into her sleeping bag and grabbed her arms. Before she could protest, he pulled her out and set her on the covers. “You’ve got three minutes to get dressed, Cindy. If you’re not ready, you’re coming with us the way you are.”
“Who is us and where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I hate surprises,” she muttered, but he was already gone.
At that moment, she happened to glance down at herself. She bit back a moan. She’d known the girls would come to her to escort them to the rest rooms in the night so she’d gone to bed wearing shorts under her nightshirt. However, in her fi
tful sleep, it had twisted off one shoulder, exposing plenty of flesh. Mike hadn’t even noticed. So much for dazzling the man with her feminine charms. She probably looked so old and haggard, he couldn’t register anything else.
She drew the tent flaps together and quickly put on a bra and shirt. After spraying again with bug repellent, she slipped on socks and shoes, grabbed a flashlight, then made a mad dash for the rest room. A quick combing restored her hair to almost normal. She splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth. She was back at her tent in less than five minutes.
The western horizon was still dark, but dawn was breaking to the east. Mike was waiting for her with Allison and two of the little girl’s friends.
“Where are we going?” Cindy asked again.
Mike put a finger to his lips and started walking away from the camp.
Cindy and the girls followed silently. After about fifteen minutes, they came to a clearing. A small house belonging to the park ranger stood at one end. There was a fenced garden and green grass. Mike paused by the edge of the lawn.
As if their presence had triggered a prearranged signal, a doe and two fawns stepped out of the bushes. The girls gasped.
The creatures moved with long-legged grace. Their smooth coats were almost gray in the predawn light. The back door of the house opened and the park ranger put out a large dish of food.
“They’re beautiful,” Allison breathed. Her friends agreed.
The silence stretched on as the animals ate. The babies finished first, then began a game of tag in the clearing. They chased each other, jumping playfully over imaginary barriers.
The girls stared raptly. Cindy felt her throat tighten with emotion as Allison shyly took hold of Mike’s hand. He squeezed her fingers and smiled down at her. Allison smiled back.
Cindy knew her daughter would remember this moment forever. She would share it with her children, telling them about the first time she’d watched fawns frolic in the early morning.
The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones Page 15