Everlasting Love

by Valerie Hansen

  “Yeah!” Bobby Joe piped up. “I helped.”

  “Me, too! Me, too!” Kyle echoed.

  Megan was even more touched. She crouched and opened her arms to them. “How sweet of you all. Thank you.”

  To her chagrin, none of the youngsters accepted her offer of a group hug. Even the littlest ones, Robbie and John, held back.

  She quickly straightened and pretended nothing unusual had occurred. Clearly, these children were not used to displaying affection—or receiving it. They were like the hospitalized babies she’d read about. Ones who were given daily massages gained weight much more rapidly than expected and were ready to be discharged a lot earlier than others. Loving touch made all the difference. Sadly, when children were not cuddled as babies, they often had trouble forming interpersonal relationships for the rest of their lives.

  That kind of emotional damage was one of the things she hoped to overcome with her companion animal study. Yet it was much more than that. Megan wasn’t sure exactly when the change in her focus had taken place but she knew her work had long ago ceased to be a simple scholarly study. Her heart and mind were now so intertwined with what she was doing, it was impossible to separate herself from her goals. Which was probably why she’d taken James’s negative opinions so to heart.

  Looking into his eyes, she sensed a depth of understanding beyond what she’d expected. He hadn’t missed the importance of what she’d learned when the children had held back, nor was he condemning her for trying to embrace them. He seemed almost appreciative of her efforts, though clearly not surprised at the rebuff.

  Megan smiled slightly and nodded at him. “Well, I’ve disturbed you enough. I hope you can find the time to bring everybody up to my camp later.”

  “What time?” he asked.

  “Around three? That should give us time to set everything up.”

  “Do you need any help? Aaron isn’t here today but I can have Inez watch the boys if you need me.”

  “I appreciate your offer but we can handle it. Roxy and I loaded the horse panels ourselves. They’re not heavy. Just cumbersome.”

  “Okay. Then three o’clock, it is,” James said. “We’re looking forward to it. Aren’t we, gang?”

  Another chorus of children’s shouts punctuated his statement.

  Megan reached out and laid her hand lightly on his arm to reinforce her parting words. “Thanks. And again, I’m really sorry I misjudged you.”

  “No problem.”

  The muscles she felt beneath his warm skin twitched. He pulled away abruptly.

  Comparing his reaction to what she’d just experienced with the children, Megan blinked. New possibilities nibbled at the fringes of her imagination. Was James Harris good at his job because of his formal education? Or did he understand the children in his care so well because he was like them?

  Her heart instantly went out to the stoic man. Perhaps there were adult emotional walls as well as youthful ones that needed breaking down at Camp Refuge.

  If that were the case, she was up to the challenge. She had to be. The good Lord would not have placed her here if He hadn’t been sure she was capable of accomplishing whatever He asked of her.

  Feeling positive and in control of the situation, Megan bid everyone a polite goodbye and started back for her cabin.

  By the time she was halfway up the hill, however, she’d begun to question her conclusions. Her fingers still tingled from where they’d brushed his bare forearm, and her pulse was far too rapid to have been boosted into orbit by the easy climb to her camp. Therefore, she had to be reacting in a personal way to being around James Harris again.

  Okay, fine. She could accept that. So he happened to affect her sympathies the same way a wounded or mistreated animal did. So what? That didn’t mean she had to behave any differently toward him than she would toward the children she’d come to help.

  And it certainly didn’t mean Roxy had been right when she’d envisioned a budding romance between them. No, sir.

  It was normal to feel love for her parents, her sister, her pastor and innumerable fellow Christians—men, women and children—so why not share the same brotherly affection with someone like James?

  In theory, that sounded perfectly plausible to Megan. In practice, however, she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to pull it off without getting too involved. There was something very special about the camp supervisor. Something compelling she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that struck her as the kind of attraction that might prove dangerous to her own peace of mind—if she let down her guard for an instant.

  It was well after three o’clock before Megan saw James leading his charges up the hill. When she’d learned that Aaron wasn’t currently in residence, Roxy had retired to the cabin to read a romance novel, which left Megan alone to greet her visitors.

  She ordered her mottled gray Australian shepherd to heel, then called out a pleasant, “Hi. I was beginning to worry you might have changed your mind.”

  James didn’t smile. “We were delayed.”

  “Why?”

  “There was another fight.”

  “What about?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course I do.” Megan scowled.

  “Okay. Mark and Kyle were arguing over who’d get to ride the horse. I don’t know who threw the first punch but by the time we were through, I was almost ready to cancel this afternoon’s visit.”

  “You can’t blame me for that.”

  “If I did, we wouldn’t be here now,” James said flatly. “Any disturbance in our daily routine can have the same kind of upsetting effect. That’s one of the things I’ve been trying to explain to you.”

  “Then your so-called routine is too rigid,” she countered. “Kids need to have fun.”

  “There’s reassurance in sameness.”

  “Balance is better.” Glancing at the overly subdued boys who were still standing in line behind him like baby ducks trailing their mother, she lowered her voice to ask, “Precisely what makes you think otherwise, Mr. Harris?”

  “Besides my time in the school of hard knocks, you mean?” He made a soft sound of derision. “I have a master’s in education. Will that do?”

  “I wasn’t questioning your abilities. I was just trying to figure out what makes you tick.”

  “I don’t tick. Neither does Camp Refuge. It hums like a well-oiled machine. At least it did until recently.”

  Megan wasn’t about to let him get away with a remark like that. She grinned. “Oh? Well, you know what happens to even the most expensive engine if you never change the oil. It grinds itself to death. And I think your oil needs changing, mister. You’re starting to grind something awful.”

  The resulting look on his face was so comical she had to giggle. Some of the boys began to chuckle, too. At her side, the spotted shepherd wagged his gray stub of a tail so vigorously his whole body shook, yet somehow held his place by her side as she’d instructed.

  She laid a steadying hand on the dog’s head. “Good boy, Wiggles. Stay.”

  The boys looked as eager to make the dog’s acquaintance as he was to make theirs. Megan smiled broadly. “Does everybody here like dogs?”

  Each child nodded in turn as she singled him out and waited for an answer. Satisfied, she said, “In that case, I’d like you to meet Mr. Wiggles. He loves everybody so you don’t need to worry about anything but his kisses. Ready?”

  Greeted by a unanimous chorus of “Yeah!” she released the dog with a hand signal and a joyful “Okay,” watching in delight as he bounded up to the group of children and was immediately surrounded. There was certainly no reluctance to reach out and embrace the four-legged ambassador of unconditional acceptance, was there?

  Megan was filled with delight and appreciation for the direction her life had taken. If, after her parents’ divorce, she’d chosen to go live with her strict father the way Roxy had, there was no telling what would have become of her or where she�
�d be now. Maybe she’d have rebelled, too.

  No, I wouldn’t have, Megan told herself with calm assurance. God had had a wonderful plan for her all along. Even as a teen she’d glimpsed inklings of it.

  She wouldn’t break the rules and try to proselytize the young people she’d be working with, but there was no way she could live her daily life without relying on faith. Her actions were her real sermon.

  And speaking of actions, it looked as if the boys were beginning to tire of dodging dog kisses and trying to pet Wiggles when he wouldn’t hold still.

  “Okay,” she said, moving past James to the children. “Let’s start with a simple rule. This is important. Listen up, guys. You, too, Wiggles.”

  She waited until all eyes were on her, including the dog’s. “I don’t want you coming up here and playing with the animals unless you’re invited. Not even if Mr. Wiggles looks lonely and treats you like his best buddy.”

  Zac’s sly grin gave her pause so she stared straight at him and added, “I don’t care how many excuses you can think up. I mean what I said. Got that?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the thin teen muttered.

  “Good. I wouldn’t want everybody to lose the privilege of having fun just because one of you broke the rules. Any questions so far?”

  “Yeah,” Zac drawled. “How come your dog’s got one brown eye and one blue one? He looks real weird.”

  “He’s an Australian shepherd,” Megan said. “Lots of them have unusual eye color. It’s just how they’re made. The same goes for his tail, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “What tail?” Bobby Joe asked with a puzzled look. He leaned to peer at the dog’s rear end. So did Mark.

  Megan smiled. “Exactly. Most dogs do have tails. But Aussies are usually born without them. It doesn’t bother Wiggles a bit. We can still tell when he’s happy because he wags his invisible tail so hard his whole body…wiggles.”

  She waited for the snickering to die down, then said, “Okay, now that everybody has met my mean old watchdog, let’s go see my horse, Buckets. Follow me.”

  Megan started toward the pens, her dog obediently trotting at heel on her left. The boys came along in a loose group, bouncing, skipping and jabbering excitedly. The only child who wasn’t acting his age was Zac.

  He hustled his walk to match her stride. “That’s a dumb name for a horse.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. When I first got her, Buckets didn’t even have a regular name. She’d been starved till she could hardly stand up anymore. I started calling her Buckets because every time I saw her she had her nose stuck in a bucket of feed.”

  “If she was so bad off, how come you took her?”

  “Because she needed a friend. And I needed a horse like her. By the time I’d nursed her back to health we were good buddies.”

  “Horses don’t know stuff like that, do they?”

  “I’ll let you make up your own mind after you’ve taken care of Buckets for a little while. I think you’ll be surprised.”

  Zac snorted derisively. “Yeah, sure.”

  Megan noticed that although the boys had gathered outside the nearest railing of the horse pen, James was hanging back. Was he looking for errors in the way she kept the children safe? Perhaps. It didn’t really matter. At the moment, she had six boys to educate about the proper way to approach a horse, while keeping said horse from mistaking their fingers for snacks.

  She brought out a cube of sugar to demonstrate. “Now watch what I do so you’ll know how to give her treats. First, look at Buckets. See how her eyes are on the sides of her head instead of in front, like ours? That’s so she can see on both sides at the same time and stay safe from predators.”

  “Like mountain lions?” Bobby Joe asked, awed.

  “If there were any left in Arkansas, yes.” She looked to James. “Are there?”

  “Not according to Game and Fish.”

  “That’s a relief.” Megan smiled. “I’m sure Buckets is glad, too.”

  She paused, held her hand perfectly flat, palm up, and bent to show the boys. “Always offer food like this. When you get close, Buckets can’t see what’s right in front of her nose. If something smells good, she’ll nibble at it to see if it tastes good, too. She’s not being mean, she’s just confused. If your fingers are in the way, they can get tasted before she realizes it’s you she’s biting.”

  “Eeew,” Zac said. “Finger food.”

  Megan had to work to keep from laughing. “Right. That’s why it’s best to always present a treat on a flat palm.” She reached into her pocket. “I have plenty of sugar cubes. Who wants to go first?”

  No one came forward. A mere fourteen hands tall, Buckets wasn’t big for a full-grown horse but Megan knew the mare would appear impressive viewed from the perspective of a child. All they’d need was one boy brave enough to feed her and the others would line up to do the same.

  Megan demonstrated how gently the mare lipped the treat off her palm, then looked at Zac. “How about you?”

  He raised both hands in front of him and backed away. “Not me, lady. I don’t want no horse spit all over me.”

  “Her nose tickles.”

  “Uh-uh. No way.” Safely distant, he shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head insistently.

  Megan could see that none of the others were willing to step forward when their eldest peer had set such a strong negative example.

  “Okay,” she said, smiling. “No problem. Let’s have Mr. Harris do it first to show you how easy it is.”

  If she had looked at James’s face before speaking, she wouldn’t have tried to draft him. A person didn’t need a degree in psychology to see that the man was displeased to have been included in her presentation. Well, it was too late to do anything about that now. He’d have to grin and bear it.

  Megan motioned with her whole arm. “Come on. Show the boys there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  He came, all right, looking as if his best friend had abandoned him, his favorite truck had been wrecked, he’d just eaten a meal of unripe wild persimmons and had been punched in the stomach for dessert. Clearly he was having to force himself to approach. If it hadn’t been for the boys watching his every move, Megan doubted she’d have been able to talk him into helping at all.

  “Offer the sugar on your open hand,” she said. “Then hold real still and she’ll take it from you.”

  The private look James shot her way as she handed him the sugar cube was anything but amiable. It was a good thing Buckets cared more about food than anything else, including how friendly her benefactors might be, Megan thought, because if she’d been in the horse’s shoes, she might have nipped a man with such a rotten attitude, just on general principles!

  Chapter Six

  Megan couldn’t believe the man’s absurd reluctance. What a shame he didn’t prize the affection animals offered. In respect to their immense tolerance, they were often like abused children who looked to their abusers for solace because they knew no alternative.

  The young people at Camp Refuge were not the only ones who needed to learn how to enjoy and fully appreciate the blessings of God’s creations, were they? A certain stubborn man could use a dose of the same medicine.

  Megan smiled, amused at the picture those thoughts created. She could see herself holding a big spoon brimming with the antidote for James’s paradoxical disposition and trying to coax him into opening his mouth to take it.

  “Spooning it in won’t be the hardest part,” she muttered. “Getting him to swallow will be the real trick.”

  He jerked his hand away before Buckets could gobble up the sugar. “What?”

  “Nothing. Sorry.” Realizing she’d been thinking aloud, Megan blushed. “Tell you what. This is taking longer than I’d planned. Let’s leave Buckets and go see something smaller. I think you’ll all like Rocky.”

  The abject relief on James’s face almost made her laugh. Poor guy. He’d been about as eager to feed the horse as she would have be
en to offer one of her pet bunnies to a hungry snake. She didn’t care if it was the way of nature for creature to eat creature, she didn’t intend to facilitate it. Which was one reason she’d chosen not to include reptiles in her menagerie. Besides, they weren’t exactly cuddly.

  On the other hand, studies had proven the beneficial physical affects of petting an animal’s warm, soft fur. Not only did doing that have the advantage of encouraging a feeling of rapport and companionship, it also lowered a person’s blood pressure and slowed his or her pulse.

  Megan knew from personal experience that there was wonderful solace to be found in having a pet. When it seemed no one else understood her feelings, her animals were always empathetic. They might not fathom the depths of her needs but they gave all they had, which was good enough for her.

  Little Rocky was an instant hit with everyone. James had to smile at the flying squirrel’s antics—and at its owner’s. Over her camp uniform, Megan had donned a loose shirt with big pockets. Rocky was playing hide-and-seek by scampering over her shoulders and ducking in and out of those pockets.

  Just when it looked like the tiny squirrel would finally hold still, it took off again, made a mad dash up to Megan’s shoulder and hid under her hair, bringing a chorus of squeals and laughter from the boys.

  She giggled, too. “Hey, that tickles.”

  “He never runs away?” James asked.

  “Hasn’t so far. I’ve had him four years and he’s never made a break for it. I think he sees me as his private tree.” She blushed. “Until I learned to wear something loose that he could crawl into easily, some of my demonstrations got kind of interesting.”

  Chuckling, James nodded. “I can imagine. He sure likes to hide. I guess he’s cute. It’s hard to tell exactly what he looks like when he’s moving so fast.”

  She reached back and gently cupped the tiny animal in her hands, bringing him forward and letting him peek out between her fingers.

  “Rocky,” she said, bending so the boys could get a good look at him, “I’d like you to meet my new friends.”