“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. How old are the boys who live here?”
“Younger than you,” he said dryly. “And while we’re on the subject, I want you to understand something. These kids are already confused and worried when they come to camp. If you do or say anything to upset them further, I’ll have to end your sister’s project early and send you both away. Is that clear?”
Roxy shrugged. “Sure. It’s not my problem. I’m only here because my mother didn’t want to be bothered with me.”
“I thought you came to help Megan.”
“Whatever. It wasn’t my idea.”
Thoughtful, James refrained from further comment. He hadn’t been crazy about the idea of bringing animals into the camp in the first place. Now that Megan had added a troubled teen to the mix, he was even less inclined to endorse the project.
It’s only for fourteen days, he reminded himself. Two weeks. Surely, not much could go wrong in that short a time.
When James returned with the dump truck he was alone. He handed Megan some leather gloves and donned a matching pair. “Your sister decided to stay with Inez.”
“Not a big surprise.” The gloves were miles too big. Nevertheless, Megan expressed gratitude as she put them on. “Thanks. It was nice of you to think of bringing these for me. If I’d known I was going to be doing a lot of manual labor today I’d have come better prepared.”
“You’re welcome. There’s bottled water in the cab of the truck, too. I don’t want you using the taps in the cabin until I’ve had a chance to flush them out. Might make you sick.”
“Aren’t you sweet? Thanks.”
“Me? Sweet?” He chuckled. “You’re the first person who’s ever called me that.”
Slightly disconcerted, he reached for a stack of cardboard boxes, looking them over carefully while brushing away spiderwebs with one gloved hand. “All these old records are in our computer system so it’ll be okay to pitch them. I’d forgotten this stuff was still around.”
“You’ve worked here a long time?”
“On and off. I started volunteering when I was still in school. After I got my degree, I went into teaching but it wasn’t satisfying enough. I finally chucked it all and came back here to stay. Been here ever since.”
Megan nodded. “Why don’t you do the heavy work and leave those boxes to me? I can move them by myself if I only lift one or two at a time. I know I can’t handle the mattresses.” Pointing, she gifted him with her most convincing smile. “Please?”
“Okay.” James straightened. “Just keep your gloves on and watch out for spiders. We have a lot of brown recluse up here. I fight them all the time in the bunkhouses.”
“You be careful, too. Looks like the wasps have taken over that end of the cabin.”
“Mud daubers. They’re everywhere, especially in attics. Chances are they even managed to find a way into some of those boxes you’re about to handle.”
“Terrific.” She made a silly face at him.
“Hey, you’re the one who insisted on doing this. I’m still willing to be sensible.”
“No way.” It amused Megan to see him giving her a look that said he thought she was dumber than a post. She laughed softly. “I discovered a long time ago that the only way to be sure you’ll lose is to quit before you reach your goal. That’s why I never give up. It’s not in my nature.”
“Not even if you’re fighting a losing battle?” James asked as he dragged a huge bundle of dilapidated mattresses toward the door.
“In whose opinion? Yours? Mine? That’s not nearly good enough for me.”
Watching him work, Megan couldn’t help continuing to appreciate his natural appeal. Not that she ever intended to reveal her thoughts. Or act on them. She simply had an ingrained admiration for all of God’s creatures. And she had to admit this particular creature was pretty close to perfect, at least on the outside. What was inside was the problem. He’d looked after her by providing gloves and drinking water, sure, but his lack of open-mindedness spoiled his overall image.
“So,” he asked, “what does it take to influence you? A lightning bolt from heaven?”
“Something like that.”
The dust they’d stirred up was making her nose tickle. She slipped off one glove and pressed her clean forefinger against her upper lip to stifle a sneeze. “Sometimes it feels like the good Lord has to drop a brick on my head to get my attention. Once He does, I try to listen before the second brick comes along.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Fortunately, no,” Megan said, “or I’d have to go into the chimney-building business.” She sneezed twice and sniffled. “As anyone will tell you, I’m just about flawless by now.”
Her quip, coupled with the look of disbelief on his face as he turned away, made her giggle.
James made it as far as the back of the truck before he, too, began to sneeze. Repeatedly. By this time, Megan had joined him on the porch with the first of the storage boxes.
Her next “Achoo!” blew a puff of fine dust off the top of the box and left them standing with their heads in a cloud of it. “Sorry. I guess I must be allergic to whatever’s in this dirt.”
“You and me both,” James said. “I should have thought of that. My allergies aren’t usually too bad this time of year. It slipped my mind.”
Heaving the bundle of mattresses into the truck bed he followed it with the box Megan had been holding, then jumped down off the porch. “Stay put. Don’t move anything else till I get back. I’ve got a couple of disposable masks left over from when I painted the dorm. Wearing those should help. Anything’ll be better than sneezing our heads off like this.”
“Bring a box of tissues, too. And if you run into my sister, tell her I’m just about ready to send her home to face the music.”
“She might like that. She said she didn’t want to come with you in the first place.”
“True.” Megan stifled another sneeze. “This trip was the best of her options though, even if she won’t admit it.”
“I don’t want any trouble here,” James warned.
“There won’t be. Roxy’s as sweet-natured as she is pretty. She just needed to get away from home for a while. I expect her to be a lot of help to me.”
James chuckled, glanced down the hill and said, between sneezes, “Oh, yeah? When?”
By the time James returned, Megan had discovered an abandoned mouse nest and had deposited it on the porch.
Handing her the box of tissues and one of the white paper masks, he scowled at the matted nest. “I told you to wait for me.”
“I did. Sort of.”
“Then what’s that?”
“Well, it’s not the latest in porch decor,” she quipped with a smile. “I prefer pots of petunias, myself.”
He eyed the jumbled mass of leaves, twigs, fabric and mattress ticking. “What’d you do with the mice that lived in there, make pets of them?”
There was something about his glib attitude that brought out her sense of rivalry, made her want to best him, wit to wit. “I would have, if they’d been around when I found their house. I thought I’d teach them to ride tiny bicycles and juggle little balls, maybe made out of dried peas. I could paint the peas bright