“He’s a jumper?”
“Yes, sir. He’s the best.”
Rand lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes. There was something about this kid that reminded him of Perry Shoal. This time he wasn’t going to be duped. “Let me guess. He wanted you to become a firefighter.”
“Sure does. My granddaddy was a firefighter, too. I come from a long line of ’em.”
Rand kept his eyes on Clint. He noticed the guy had dropped his smile. “What do you like most about firefighting?”
“The trees. The flowers and the foliage. All of it.”
“Yeah. I know that feeling.”
“You do?”
“Uh-huh,” Rand agreed. “But there are other ways to appreciate the trees and the flowers.”
Clint draped his wrist over the steering wheel now that they were on the smooth road. “Now that you mention it, if I had my way, I’d be a landscaper. I love working with all kinds of shrubbery and flowers. Back home, I laid out a circular patio for my mom and then I surrounded it with five varieties of lavender and purple impatiens and deep purple irises. She couldn’t believe it. I designed and built it with my own hands. Paid for it, too, from my summer job.”
“Where was that?”
“At a local nursery. They had six massive greenhouses. All built right after World War Two. Glass ceilings. Glass walls. At Christmas we imported a thousand poinsettias. Red ones, pink, white, speckled and striped. Man, I loved that place.”
“You should go back there,” Rand said firmly.
“Sorry?”
“Take my advice. Don’t do this job just to please your father or your grandfather. My dad was an admiral in the navy. I always knew he dreamed of me becoming a navy man like him. But that’s not what I wanted. He died when I was young. He wasn’t around when I made my choice to become a firefighter. But you know what? I’m sure he would have been proud of me.”
“Really? How?” Clint glanced at him seriously and then turned his eyes back to the road.
“He loved me. Does your father love you?”
“Oh, yes, sir. He does.”
“Well, that’s more than a lot of people have in their lives, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
Rand rubbed his cheek. “I knew a guy like you once. He was my rookie. Maybe if I’d had this conversation with him back when he first started training, he’d be alive today.”
“He’s dead?”
Rand nodded. “He wasn’t cut out to be a firefighter. I don’t want that to happen to you. It takes a special kind of heart and will to do what we do. I’m not saying we’re special, but we are different. Just like what you love to do is different from the guy who wants to be a banker. It’s important to follow your heart.” Rand paused.
Who was he talking to just now? Clint or himself? Had he been following his heart when he’d dropped everything in Indian Lake and flown to Idaho? Yeah, he’d answered the call to fulfill his innate sense of duty. But had it been what his heart wanted?
Rand’s eyes slipped to Clint. “You understand what I’m saying?”
Clint was silent for a long moment. “Yes. I do.”
“Good. Then I’ll expect your resignation in the morning.”
Clint smiled slowly, but it eventually filled his face as he beamed at Rand. “How about tonight?”
* * *
RAND FINISHED HIS second jump, handed in his data to the director and went to his bunk. He’d left his cell phone with the ringer off under his pillow, as he always did.
He’d spoken to his mother the day before and he hadn’t been expecting any calls.
So when he punched in his code he was surprised to find that he had a voice mail.
He read the number of the caller and stared at the phone for a long moment.
Inexplicably, his hand trembled as he pressed the screen to listen to her message.
“Rand...”
That was it. The call ended.
He touched the screen again and listened. “Rand...”
She hadn’t left him a message. But she had called him, and on his new government-issued cell phone, which could only mean that she’d gotten the number from his mother.
Beatrice had talked to his mother. Why?
If Beatrice truly didn’t want anything to do with him, then why had she sought out his mother? Or had they simply run into each other at the grocery or pharmacy?
Did it matter? Beatrice had his new number.
And she’d attempted to call him.
Her impulse had been to connect with him, something he wanted as well.
He flopped back on the cot and put his arm under his head. He stared at the ceiling. The tiles were stained and needed replacing. Just like the ceiling over his bed at the last base camp.
Was that what the future held for him? Being alone? Going from one training facility to another? Sure, he was making a mark on the future for others, but what did he want? What was best for him?
He’d believed Beatrice when she’d said she didn’t want to see him again. He’d retaliated by telling her to leave him, because he didn’t want to admit how painful those words were to him.
They’d agreed they were incompatible, and after that he’d thought there’d been no more to say to each other.
He’d been wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“WHO’S GOING TO water the trees when we’re gone?” Eli asked Beatrice as she poured a stream of water from an old watering can she’d bought at the Goodwill store several years ago.
“Yeah,” Chris said, dousing the tallest sapling they’d planted. “You’re going to be all alone out here and there’s a lot to do to run a place like this.”
“You’re right, Chris. It’s almost like taking care of a farm, though without the animals. It would be very hard on me if I had to milk cows every morning.”
“Every morning? Even Saturdays and Sundays?” Eli rolled his eyes. “No way do I want to be a farmer.”
“Well, now, Eli, don’t be too hasty. There’s all kinds of farmers. I was talking about dairy cows. You could be a farmer who grows only herbs. That’s getting to be a big industry in America.”
“What kind of burbs?”
“No,” Chris corrected. “Herbs. Like basil and thyme.” He lifted his eyes to Beatrice. “I like those ones.”
“Really?” Beatrice watered another sapling. “Did Amanda show you those herbs?”
“Yes, but I also read about them in one of the firefighter magazines that Mr. Nelson gave me. They have recipes in the back.” He dug a little moat around one of the droopier saplings then filled it with water.
“Where did you learn that trick?” she asked, kneeling next to him.
“Mr. Nelson.” Chris lifted his face to look at her. “Why didn’t he come say goodbye? I know you said he’s got an important job now, but I thought he liked us.” Chris kicked the dirt and a clod shot behind him. “I miss him.”
Beatrice understood Chris’s disappointment and loss. Rand was probably the first adult male Chris had ever come to trust. Rand’s leaving had caused both boys to withdraw. She reached out to Chris and caressed his arm. “Chris, I told you, there wasn’t enough time.”
“Yeah, I miss him, too,” Eli said, slipping his arm around Beatrice’s shoulder and leaning his head down to her cheek.
“So do you think he’ll ever come back?”
“I suppose he’d come to town to see his family. His mother would miss him at Thanksgiving if he didn’t.”
“Thanksgiving?” the boys chorused.
“That’s a long, long way off.” Eli frowned.
“I was hoping he’d come home for Labor Day. This is a holiday,” Chris offered. “Some of the other kids said they go to picnics and watch fireworks.”
“I never celebrated a
Labor Day like that,” Eli said sadly.
Beatrice placed her palm on Eli’s cheek. “This year you will. I have it all arranged with Miss Phillips for you both to go with me to Mrs. Beabots’s Labor Day party.”
“Why would you do that?” Chris asked, his eyes filled with surprise.
“I didn’t want you to be alone for the holiday. And besides, I’d kinda be by myself if you didn’t go with me. Did you ever think about that?”
“But you have the counselors and Miss Amanda.”
“They’ll be leaving this afternoon with the rest of the kids. Only Amanda will stay here overnight with us. Then she’ll leave in the morning. Of course, Amanda and the counselors will all come back every weekend for the field trips and the day campers. But they have other weekly jobs and homes during the school year.”
“Oh.” Eli stared down at the saplings. “I didn’t know that.” He reached over and took her hand. “Then, really, you need us around here more than you thought.”
Beatrice put the watering can down on the ground and pulled him into her arms. She reached over for Chris to join her. “Group hug,” she said.
She knew exactly what the boys were asking. They wanted her to be their mother. She felt as if she already was their mother. Her eyes spilled with tears and a lump burned in her throat.
“Boys, I can’t promise you the world, but what I will do is talk to Miss Phillips and see what we can do about you both coming out here on weekends through the fall. Though it will depend upon where they place you, of course.”
“What if we have to move out of Indian Lake?” Chris asked, his voice cold and edgy.
That was a real possibility. How could she have allowed herself to fabricate daydreams of the boys being around through the fall? And the holidays? She’d gone so far as to think of the jackets and hats they’d need by Christmas. She’d bought puzzles and games, envisioned taking them ice-skating and sledding when the snow came.
She’d known she was setting herself up for heartbreak by including them in her daydreams. She’d never done that before with any of the other kids. Until these boys, she’d been so concentrated on the camp finances, the repairs and construction improvements, that she hadn’t allowed herself to dream about personal happiness.
But something had happened to her the night of the fire. She’d been tested and she’d tested herself. She’d never had a brother or sister to look after or...to love. With no children of her own, she’d simply figured her maternal instincts were on hold.
But they’d come blasting out of her like the inferno that had raged around them that night. She hadn’t thought about her personal safety when she’d charged into the fire. All she’d known was that Eli was in danger and she wanted to save him.
When she’d realized that Chris was somewhere in the burning forest, those instincts had gone into overdrive. She’d vowed not to rest, not to feel her own pain, until she’d been sure Chris was alive and unharmed.
In the midst of it all was Rand. Despite the protective shields he erected around his own heart, she respected him and she loved him.
But she had no ties on him. They’d both agreed that was best.
He still harbored bone-deep grief over Perry Shoal’s death. One of the traits she admired about Rand was that he took his responsibilities seriously. She did the same. Just as she did with Eli and Chris.
And she was guilty of manufacturing impossible fantasies that included these boys.
They were guilty of doing the same.
“Oh, Miss Beatrice,” Eli cried and hugged her tight. “If we have to move, I’ll miss you so much.”
“I don’t want to go, either,” Chris said with a halting voice. He was struggling not to cry.
Beatrice felt painful fissures splinter across her heart.
She was well aware of the crisis that Zoey Phillips and other administrators in the Indiana foster care system were facing on a daily basis. There weren’t enough homes for the nine thousand children already in foster care, let alone the newcomers. Zoey was barely able to keep up with the flow.
Siblings often had to be broken up in order to place them, but now they were also often parted by hundreds of miles.
Some parents worked diligently to prove to the courts they were fit parents and take their children back home with them. That would not be the case with Eli and Chris. Zoey said their father had indicated he’d relinquish his rights and the mother had vanished.
Beatrice had enlisted Trent Davis’s help to locate the boys’ mother, but even Trent, with all the resources of a detective, hadn’t had any luck. Trent had said, “We’ve exhausted our attempts. This woman doesn’t want to be found. She may not even be in the United States any longer.”
Beatrice’s heart went out to the woman who must have truly been in a dark place in order to feel that she had no other choice but to throw her children away.
But with both parents out of the picture and the incident with the fire, Zoey was having trouble placing them. Zoey had told Beatrice that as of this very morning, they still didn’t have a foster family to take Eli and Chris. The summer was over and they would be expected to start school on Tuesday. They needed school supplies and new sneakers.
Mostly, they needed stability, love and safety. They needed a real home, not just a summer camp with games and kayaking. They needed more than what Beatrice could give them.
“Boys,” she said with as much assurance as she could muster. “I talk to Miss Phillips all the time. I’m hoping we can work something out with your new foster family. Maybe you’ll be able to come out here on the weekends when I’m holding the botany field trips.”
She held Eli’s little hand. Funny. Over the weeks in camp, she’d thought he’d grown up so much. Matured. But now she realized how very young and vulnerable he was. Though his skin glowed with a bit of a tan, at this moment he looked pale and wan, as if he hadn’t slept for several nights. Maybe he hadn’t.
Chris, always his brother’s protector, was looking at Eli, eyes older than they should be. What had the boy seen with those long-lashed deep violet eyes? Had he been watching when the police arrested his father? What had he been thinking during those traumatic moments? How many addicts had come and gone from his parents’ apartment buying drugs? Had Chris seen his mother high? Eli had told Beatrice that their mother was always in bed and that she slept a lot. Chris was too street-smart not to realize the truth.
Chris was the kind of older brother who would do everything in his power to keep the dark reality from Eli. The icy arrogance Chris displayed when they’d first come to camp was understandable. But once Rand had hacked through Chris’s facade, the boy had revealed his true self. Though he carried his own code of honor, he was a loving boy, protective of anyone younger or weaker than he. With Rand’s encouragement, Chris had already revealed the kind of noble attitude that befitted a firefighter—like Rand.
“Did Miss Phillips say she has a family for us?” Chris asked.
“Well, not quite yet,” Beatrice admitted, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. Chris was going to be a very handsome man someday. Strangely, he seemed like a man in a boy’s suit to her. Whereas Eli was all little boy, still filled with wonder and anticipation about life, Chris was already displaying his maturity. He’d seen the dark underbelly of life and, fortunately, he’d chosen to learn what not to do with his own life.
Chris had come to Beatrice’s camp at just the right moment, when he’d needed to see another kind of life. She, Rand and the counselors had shown Chris that neglect, drugs and danger were his parents’ choice. There was another way to live.
Beatrice had always envisioned the camp being more than simply games and water-safety classes. She’d wanted the kids to find friendship and guidance. To experience attention and affection. And most important, to discover their own value.
Though Chris and Eli had endured the har
rowing experience of the fire and its aftermath, they had also grown in wisdom and experience.
And a good deal of that growth was due to Rand and his outpouring of generosity toward her, the boys and the camp.
Every kid had seen him working on the water lines.
They knew he didn’t have to help, but he’d done it all willingly, and he’d even gone so far as to donate the cost of the pipe. The children saw a heart full of charity in action.
For the rest of their lives, they might not witness that kind of love again.
Beatrice felt guilt grow into a whirling gale inside her. She hadn’t done enough to thank Rand. Sure, she’d tried to pay him back, and sure, she’d attempted to phone him.
But she’d restrained herself each time she’d felt the need to text him.
She told herself she was honoring their decision to not pursue a relationship. She wanted him to be happy.
But she was miserable.
She couldn’t make herself stop loving him. It was just there. Everywhere. Rand was on the other side of the country, and yet, she felt his presence smack-dab in the midst of her camp.
The boys admired him. They looked to him for guidance. She recognized now exactly what Rand had seen when he’d argued with Beatrice about what the wayward children needed.
The kind of guidance Rand had envisioned wasn’t strictly discipline. It was loving guidance. It was a ball cap for a kid who didn’t have one to shade his face from the sun. It was respect for a little sapling tree that required watering and a moat around it to grow. It was the satisfaction you got when you’ve accomplished a task and done it well.
She and Rand were so similar.
“What if Miss Zoey can’t find us a home?” Chris asked. “Where will we live?” Eli’s face contorted as he fought tears.
“Eli.” She held his chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Listen to me. Miss Phillips is one of the best in the state. She’s got all kinds of resources. You’d be amazed at what can happen between now and Tuesday morning.”
Chris put his hand on her shoulder. “Miss Beatrice. She’s had weeks to find us a home. We’re not stupid. Nobody wants us. It’s because of the fire.”
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