Because he was falling in love with her. Falling in love a little more every single day. For the first time in his adult life, he envisioned himself with a wife and child. Not as an abstract concept, but with someone specific in mind. Two specific someones: Brooklyn and Alycia. He wanted a family. He wanted this family.
It was a hot Wednesday evening in mid-August when Derek and Alycia made a practice run, setting up the two pup tents in her backyard. Most of the dads and daughters on the trip would share tents, but Derek hadn’t thought that appropriate in their case. He wasn’t Alycia’s dad. He wasn’t even her stepdad. But two small tents, pitched side by side, would mean he’d be right there if Alycia got scared or needed something. If they wanted and the weather was good, they could sleep with their heads outside of the tent openings, putting them in view of each other.
“Where’s the hammer?” Alycia asked as she stretched a cord on her pup tent to the ground, the stake ready to be driven in.
He handed it to her. “Watch your thumb.”
“I know how to use a hammer, Mr. Johnson.”
“Sorry.” He swallowed a laugh. “Hey, do you suppose your mom would mind if you called me something other than ‘Mr. Johnson’? I keep looking around for my dad when you say that.”
Alycia stopped hammering and looked at him. “I don’t know. Mom’s pretty strict about what I call adults. Respect for elders and stuff like that.”
He was an “elder”? When had that happened? That made him feel older than being called “Mr. Johnson.” He never should have brought it up.
“Derek,” Mrs. Nims called from the back porch.
He faced the woman.
“I’m needed in town earlier than expected. Would you mind staying with Alycia until her mother gets here? Brooklyn’s due home in about ten minutes or so.”
“No, I don’t mind. We’ve got plenty of work to keep us occupied.” He turned back toward Alycia. “Don’t we, kiddo?”
“Yep.” She resumed hammering on the second stake.
“All right, then,” Mrs. Nims said. “Alycia, I’ll see you on Friday.”
“Yes’m.” Alycia hit the last stake one final time, then straightened and waved good-bye to the sitter.
After the woman disappeared into the house again, Derek walked a circle around the pup tent. “Good job, Alycia.” He stopped and tugged on one of the cords. “Real good job.”
“Thanks.” She grinned, obviously proud.
“Are you sure it’s the first time you’ve ever set up a tent?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She walked around the tent too. “It’s an old one, isn’t it?”
“It’s been around.” First she referred to him as an elder. Now she said his boyhood tent was old.
“My friend’s got one that just sort of pops up by itself.” She tugged on the same cord, mimicking Derek’s earlier movements.
“Hmm.”
“Her dad bought it in Boise especially for this weekend. I’ll bet it’s cool.”
“Must be.” Derek resisted the urge to defend the pup tents that had been in his family all of these years.
“Now what?”
He motioned toward the rolled-up sleeping bag beneath the shade tree. “Put your bag in it. Get it ready, as if you were going to sleep in there tonight.”
She obeyed in a flash. When she was done, she looked at him with excitement in her eyes. “Hey, can I sleep in it tonight? It’d be good practice for Saturday.”
He glanced up at the sky, checking the weather. “I guess you could. If it’s all right with your mom.”
“But you’d stay, too, wouldn’t you? I wouldn’t want to be all alone out here.”
He hadn’t anticipated that question. “I don’t know, Alycia.”
“Mom’ll say yes. You’ll see.”
“I’ll say yes to what?” Brooklyn stood where Mrs. Nims had been not all that long before.
“You’re home.” Alycia ran to the porch and hugged her mom. “Can Mr. Johnson and I sleep out here tonight? You know. As practice for the trip.”
Brooklyn’s gaze shot toward Derek. He shrugged, then gave his head a slight shake, not sure if he wanted her to refuse or if he was transmitting his own helplessness to control the situation.
Brooklyn saw Derek shrug. Perhaps she even understood what he was trying to say by the slight gesture. But suddenly, unavoidably, one of those unpleasant memories from her childhood—the kind she’d learned to stuff away and pretend never happened—escaped its little prison cell in her brain and came to the surface.
She was nine and she’d been invited to a backyard campout at her friend Shari’s house. Brooklyn’s dad told her she didn’t have the courage to spend the night outside. Girls weren’t meant to sleep on the ground in tents. Camping was for men and boys, not females. Girls got scared. Girls cried.
Girls were worthless.
But he let her go—the first time he’d allowed her to accept an invitation to a sleepover—and she was excited. Right up until the moment her friend fell asleep beside her in the tent and the night turned strangely quiet, except for the occasional hoot of an owl or chirp of some sort of bug. And as predicted, she got scared. Scared enough to make her cry. Scared enough to wake Shari and to alarm her friend’s parents. Scared enough to have to go inside. Scared enough never to want to camp out again.
Enough to convince her that she was as worthless as her dad said.
“Hey, Brooklyn.”
Derek’s soft words drew her back to the present. She blinked . . . and was surprised to find he stood just below her.
“Are you all right?” Concern filled his gaze.
She inhaled quickly. “I’m fine.”
Still speaking softly, he added, “It wasn’t my idea. About sleeping in the tents tonight. If you think it’s a bad idea . . .” He let the words trail into silence.
Another quick breath carried her down the porch steps and toward her daughter. “I have an idea, honey. Would you mind if I was the one who slept out with you tonight? Mr. Johnson shouldn’t get to have all the fun.”
“Would you, Mom? Would you really?”
Regret twisted her belly. Like the memory, she pushed it away. “Yes, I really would.” She glanced over her shoulder. “If Mr. Johnson will allow me to use his tent.”
“Sure I will. Sleeping bag, too, if you want it.”
She sent him a brief smile. “I’ll make do with sheets and blankets.”
“Okay.” The concern in his eyes had been replaced with unspoken questions.
Avoiding them, she looked at Alycia again. “Are you hungry? How about lasagna?”
“You bet!”
“Then go wash up.”
Her daughter dashed into the house without argument.
Behind Brooklyn, Derek asked, “Anything you need to know before I head home?”
“No.” She faced him. “I think we can get through the night all right. I’ll leave on the porch light.”
“Can’t see the stars that way.”
“No, but we can see the house.”
He was silent for a long moment before saying, “Tell Alycia that tomorrow we’ll go over those survival techniques again.”
“Survival techniques?”
He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to be in any danger this weekend. But it’s best to be prepared when you head into the mountains. Even if we are headed for a public campground and not into the backcountry.”
The tension eased a little from her shoulders.
He looked as if he might want to say something more. Instead, he gave her another quick smile. “Have fun tonight.” Then he strode away across the field.
Chapter 27
Brooklyn awakened to a sky spattered with wispy clouds turned pink by the rising sun. The morning air was sweet and cool. If the earth hummed in the evening, as Derek said, then it sang with the sunrise. Birds hopped from branch to branch in the trees overhead, chirping and tweeting, a melody that made her wish to join in
a song of praise. To think that she’d missed seeing this, hearing this, all these years because she’d been afraid.
Fear not.
Oh, that was a hard command for Brooklyn. She tried not to be afraid, but it still popped up from time to time when she least expected it.
Help me not to be afraid, Lord.
Her daughter wasn’t afraid of anything. Alycia was full of courage at ten. So unlike Brooklyn at any age. Sometimes even now.
I can be proud of that, at least. I haven’t passed on my fears to her. She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes again. Maybe I can’t take much credit for how well she’s turned out. Maybe most of it is despite me, not because of me. You’ve been looking out for the both of us, Lord. Long before I knew You, You took care of us.
“Mom?”
Brooklyn opened her eyes as she rolled her head to the side. “Hmm?”
“This was so cool. Best night ever. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, kiddo.” She had never used Derek’s particular term of endearment before, and she wondered what it meant that she had now. She could almost see him smiling at her, as if he approved.
“I’m hungry.” Alycia slipped out of the sleeping bag and tent in one fluid movement. “Can we have waffles?”
“Sure.” Brooklyn got out of her tent, her movements not as flexible as her daughter’s. Her body, she realized, was going to make her pay for sleeping on the ground. Derek had offered her a blow-up mattress, but she’d declined, saying she wanted the whole “roughing it” experience. Perhaps not the wisest decision she’d ever made. But seeing Alycia’s face and hearing her delighted chatter helped Brooklyn forget the achy spots on her body.
Inside the house, Alycia pulled the waffle iron from one of the cupboards while Brooklyn prepared the waffle mix. After pouring the batter into the heated iron, Brooklyn laid strips of bacon on a plate covered with paper towels and put it into the microwave. Soon wonderful odors filled the kitchen, increasing their hunger.
A short while later, as they carried plates to the table, Alycia asked, “Do you think I’ll be the only girl who’s never been camping before? You know. Real camping. Not just in the backyard.”
“I don’t know, honey. It’s possible.” Brooklyn sat opposite her daughter. “But even if you are, Mr. Johnson has been camping lots of times, so it won’t matter.”
Alycia munched on a slice of bacon. “Yeah. He’s pretty smart. About a lot of things.”
“I think so too.” Brooklyn marveled once again over her changed opinions of Derek.
“What do you suppose he’s gonna teach me today?” Not waiting for an answer, Alycia speared a large portion of waffle and shoved it into her mouth, leaving traces of maple syrup on her face.
Brooklyn swallowed her amusement. “I haven’t the slightest idea what he’ll teach you. But I am certain you’ll have fun.”
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad we came to Thunder Creek. I like it here. I hope we stay forever.”
Brooklyn drew in a slow breath and released it. “I’m glad you feel that way, honey. I like it here too.” It amazed her how true those words had become.
She heard a knock from the porch, then Derek’s voice asking, “Are the campers up?”
“Yeah!” Alycia answered before Brooklyn could. The girl hopped up from her chair and hurried to meet Derek outside. “Camping is so cool, Mr. Johnson. I can’t wait for Saturday.”
“You’ll have to wait, kiddo. Can’t hurry time.”
The pair of them appeared through the kitchen doorway. Derek, tall and broad, his hand on Alycia’s shoulder. Alycia, beaming with enthusiasm. They looked right together. It felt right for him to be here. With Alycia. With her.
The flutter of Brooklyn’s heart caused her to look away from them.
Was it possible she was falling in love?
From a chair on Brooklyn’s back porch, Derek watched as Alycia filled her backpack with a few articles of clothing and additional camping supplies. Deep in concentration, she had the tip of her tongue poking through one corner of her mouth.
“Why’s it so important to keep those matches dry?” he asked, testing her.
“’Cause if they get wet, they won’t work.”
“Right. And what do we use to make a fire?”
“Not matches unless it’s an emergency.” She crinkled her nose. “You’ve got that starter thingy.”
“Starter thingy”? He grinned. Close enough.
“But I don’t have one of those, Mr. Johnson.”
“No, you don’t have one. If we were headed out into the wilderness, just the two of us, you probably would. But we’re going with a group to a campground, so it isn’t necessary.”
Alycia put the last item into her backpack and zipped it closed. “Now what?” She looked up at him.
“Let’s go through this book of weeds and other plants you should know about when we’re hiking in the mountains.” He showed the small paperback to her. “Last thing I want is to bring you home with a bad case of poison ivy. Do you know what that is?”
“No. What is it?”
She truly was a city girl. “It’s a plant. If the leaves rub against your skin, they’ll make you break out in a rash and blisters or make you swell up. It’s nasty stuff.”
“Is there gonna be poison ivy where we’re going?”
“Probably. It likes to grow in the mountains and near rivers, and the campground is both in the mountains and near a river.” He leaned toward her. “We have to keep our eyes open when we’re out walking. That’s the main thing about being up in the mountains. You have to be smart. To pay attention to what’s all around you. Like you’re paying attention to me right now.”
Alycia nodded.
“So tell me. What would you do if we got separated?”
“If you got lost, I’d stay with the others.”
Derek chuckled. “Good idea. But what if you and I were out walking by ourselves and we got separated? Then what?”
“I’d stay put. I’m supposed to sit still and wait for somebody to come find me.” She emphasized the last word by bobbing her chin.
“That’s right.” He lifted his right hand, and she high-fived him. “Okay, kiddo, back to my book of plants.” He motioned with his head toward the chair next to him. “Hop up there and we’ll go through it.”
Brooklyn came out of the house at that moment, carrying two large plastic tumblers. “Lemonade, anybody?”
“Yeah, me!” Alycia answered.
Brooklyn’s gaze met with Derek’s, and she smiled. Something told him she’d been listening to their conversation.
“Join us?” he asked, glancing at another chair.
“Are you sure?” She set the glasses of lemonade on the small round table positioned between him and Alycia. “I don’t want to intrude on your survival lesson.”
“Not possible for you to intrude.”
She laughed softly as she settled onto the chair.
When he was a teenager, his mom had told him falling in love was like an intricate dance, taking some steps forward and some steps back, keeping time to the music, watching his partner and matching his moves to hers, trying not to step on her toes while at the same time trying not to stumble over his own feet. At the time, he’d told her it was a dumb analogy, and he hadn’t thought about it through the years. But now his mom’s words came back to him, and the analogy seemed appropriate.
I love you, Brooklyn.
She lowered her eyes, as if to avoid the unspoken words.
Did she understand what he felt for her? Would she ever be ready to hear the words? And how would he know when the right time was to tell her?
“Mr. Johnson.” Alycia opened the paperback book. “Show me the poison ivy.”
He reined in his thoughts about Brooklyn and focused on her daughter. “Sure thing.”
Ruth bid Camila a good evening before shutting the shop door behind her friend. With a weary sigh, she flipped the
sign in the window to read Closed. Tonight she would be content with a dinner of cheese and crackers or perhaps a bowl of soup. She was too tired for anything more elaborate.
At the entrance to her kitchen, she paused and turned off the main overhead lights for the shop. Then she set the alarm and entered the house.
She wondered how many times she’d passed through that doorway over more than five decades. She wasn’t a whiz at math, but it had to be at least thirty or forty thousand times. Before she could reach for a pencil and paper to figure a better estimate, the telephone rang. She went to answer it. “Hello.”
“Ruth? It’s Fran.”
Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she sank onto a nearby chair. “Hello, Fran.”
“Can you talk?” The woman’s voice was soft and shaky.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Mac was fired from his job today.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He’s so angry right now. He scares me.”
Ruth leaned forward on the chair, as if it would draw her closer to the woman on the other end of the call. “If you’re afraid for your safety, Fran, you need to leave. Leave right now. Don’t take anything with you. Just get the car keys and get out.”
“No. I can’t leave.”
“Would you like me to come for you? It wouldn’t take me long to drive out there.”
“No. That wouldn’t be a good idea.” Fran drew an audible breath. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I shouldn’t have called. It’s all right.”
“Oh, Fran,” Ruth whispered.
“I shouldn’t’ve bothered you,” she repeated. “I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t a bother. I promise you it isn’t. I’m glad you called me.” Now it was her turn to draw a breath. “Would you like me to call Hank for you? Or Derek?”
“No. No, don’t call them. I’m fine. You know what, I’d better get off the phone. Just . . . just pray Mac will find another job. Will you?”
“Of course.”
“And Ruth? Thanks for offering to help. But I’m all right. Really. Bye.”
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