Time crept by slower than an ant on an ice cube. There was clearly a dandy struggle going on in that good-looking head of his. When one corner of his mouth quirked with the hint of a smile, however, Megan knew she’d won.
Nodding, James grasped her outstretched hand and cupped his other hand over it. “Okay. Partners. As long as you don’t butt heads with me in front of the kids and undermine my authority, I’ll put up with you. Both of you. But one false move and you’re out of here. I don’t care if you have friends in high places all over Arkansas. Is that understood?”
“Uh-huh.”
Dumbfounded, she stared at their clasped hands. His touch was warm, comforting, gentle. Her skin was tingling worse than the first time they’d shared a handshake. Much worse. A shiver began at the nape of her neck and skittered along her spine, confirming the full extent of her reaction to James’s innocent touch.
This was more serious than her earlier tendencies to admire his looks. And a lot more scary. Emotions were her business. She recognized the signs all too well. Apparently, some of the uneasiness she’d attributed to simple nervousness when she’d first met him had had its roots elsewhere in her psyche.
Megan pulled her hand free. The effects of James’s touch lingered, making her pulse race. Worse yet, her impressionable sister was standing right there, watching the whole exchange and giving her the kind of look a parent gives a child who’s been caught raiding the cookie jar.
Embarrassed, Megan swallowed hard. This was not good. Not good at all. There was more at stake here than simply preserving her own peace of mind. Preaching to Roxy about virtuous behavior was not going to have any effect if she couldn’t set a good example, both in practice and in her heart of hearts.
Megan knew her actions were not going to be too hard to manage, especially if she relied on prayer for extra support. It was her errant thoughts that were going to give her fits. Thanks to meeting James Harris, wild notions were already spinning around in her head like dry leaves caught in a whirlwind.
The cabin Megan eventually chose was not among the ones James had hoped she’d pick. Naturally. He gritted his teeth. Leave it to her to fixate on a building that had stood empty for years. He’d been associated with Camp Refuge for nearly a decade, first as a part-timer, then as a counselor and finally as its director, and he couldn’t recall a time when anyone had occupied the small, outlying cabin. It certainly wasn’t appealing, yet the woman seemed unreasonably drawn to it.
“Are you sure?” he asked for the third time.
“Positive.” She led the way up onto the porch, looking down and frowning. “You’ll need to repair these steps. They feel wobbly. I hope the interior is in better shape.”
“I can’t promise a thing. We haven’t used this row of cabins for anything but storage for years. Why does it have to be this one? There are lots better choices closer to our main bunkhouses and dining hall.”
“Because I like this one,” Megan insisted. “It has a big enough yard for my horse pen. Plus, my rabbits will need plenty of shade. These trees will be perfect for that. Right, Roxy?”
The teenager shrugged. “Whatever.”
Frustrated, James stared at Megan. “Did you get up this morning determined to do everything the hard way? Or is it simply a talent of yours to be difficult?”
She laughed softly. “I have lots of special gifts, but I’ve never been told making trouble is one of them.”
“Well, let me be the first,” he said, turning the front-door key. “This lock is sticking, too. I’ll need to make a list of repairs. It’ll be a long one.”
“Don’t go to any fuss. I can take care of whatever needs to be done inside. Roxy can help me dust and sweep the place out. It’ll be fine.”
“I doubt that.”
Pushing open the door on creaking hinges, he stood back so the others could peek into the interior. As he’d suspected, the cabin not only smelled musty, it was chock-full of items that had been stored for so long, their value was nil. The stacks of cardboard file boxes were bad enough. Worse, extra cots had been piled along one whole wall. From the looks of the bundles of old mattresses, they’d been home to families of field mice for some time.
Megan made a face. Clearly ignoring her sister’s muffled squeal of protest she said, “Hmmm. This could take a bit more than dusting.”
“Exactly.” James started to pull the door closed. “So, what’s your second choice?”
“I don’t have one. I want this cabin.”
“You must be kidding.”
“No. Not at all. Like I said, it’s perfect for my needs. Think you can have the junk out of it by Monday?”
He rolled his eyes. This woman was not only stubborn beyond reason, she was also nuts. “Monday? Of next month, maybe. This is already Friday. There’s no way I can spare the time to do the hours of work this place will need. It’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible if you want it badly enough,” Megan argued. “And I want this cabin. If you can’t clean it out, we’ll do it ourselves.”
“No way! Not me.” Roxy retreated and scurried down the porch steps.
All James could do was shake his head. He’d never met anyone as inflexible as Megan White. Nor anyone so determined. How did all that stubbornness fit into such a compact package? When he’d been tossed out by his parents and shipped off to military school as a young teen, he’d thought those instructors were unbelievably rigid. But they’d been softies compared to this woman.
“I can’t let you do that.” He cast around for a plausible excuse, settling on “It’s against camp policy” before he realized she’d be privy to the details of actual camp policy through her mentor.
“I’m starting to get the idea you don’t want us here,” Megan chided, breaking into a silly grin. “Well, you can forget about scaring us off. Roxy and I are moving in on Monday, with or without your help. Now, where do you want us to put all this junk after we drag it out the door?”
He knew when he was licked. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you. Let me go get the old dump truck we use to haul trash. We can back it up to the porch and toss stuff into it from there so we won’t have to handle anything twice. I have a bad feeling this place is loaded with spiders, not to mention other crawly things.”
It pleased him to note Megan’s barely perceptible shiver. She’d listened to that warning, at least. He was in favor of anything that fostered caution and slowed her momentum. Which gave him another idea.
“You could be settled in one of the regular cabins down the hill in a few hours, you know. Today.”
When she whirled to face him, hands fisted on her slim hips, she didn’t have to say a word to inform him his sensible suggestion had been in vain.
He shook his head in resignation. “Okay, okay. You win. I’ll go tell Inez and Aaron to keep watching the kids for me and I’ll get the truck. Don’t try to move anything until I get back. Understand?”
“Perfectly.”
As he started away, Roxy hurried to match his stride. He slowed for her. “Aren’t you going to stay and help your big sister?”
“No way. That place is too creepy. I don’t do spiders. Or windows, either.”
“I don’t blame you for hating spiders,” he said soberly. “I’m not real crazy about them myself.”
“Are you married?”
James