Everlasting Love. Valerie Hansen
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dive in again?”
“No. I’ll do it alone,” he said. “You just stand here and hold the door for me.”
“The door is fine. It doesn’t need holding.”
“Put on your mask so you don’t eat any more dust and do as I say.”
“In a pig’s eye.”
“Don’t tell me you have a pet pig, too.”
“Nope. Just a horse, a burro, a couple of rabbits, a herding dog and Rocky.”
James had already donned his mask, which muffled his reply, but Megan got a general idea of what he was asking so she explained, “Rocky’s a flying squirrel. I rescued him from a tree that had been cut down when he was just a baby. I’ve tried to release him back into the wild but he keeps coming home and sneaking into the house. Apparently, he likes living in my menagerie.”
“Guess there’s no accounting for taste.”
“When you’re right, you’re right.” Megan put on her paper mask and went back inside.
Removing the stored supplies didn’t take nearly as long as Megan had thought it would. Cleaning the cabin until it looked and smelled as fresh as a summer breeze, however, took her and James the rest of the afternoon.
Finished, she plopped down on the edge of the small porch and dangled her feet over the side. “Whew! I’m bushed. We used up all the cleanser you brought.”
“You should be tired. You worked hard.”
There was a tinge of admiration in his voice. She leaned her head back to glance up at him. “Hey, if I impressed you, it was worth it.”
“You did. So, what’s next? When are you going to bring the animals and set up your zoo?”
“It’s not a zoo.”
“Whatever. I’d just like to know if I should expect any other big surprises.”
“Big? Like what? An elephant?”
His eyes widened. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Okay. I’m kidding.”
James heaved a sigh and joined her. “That’s a relief.”
Pretending to make room for him, Megan inched farther away for her own sake and feigned a lighthearted attitude. “Sorry if I scared you. Guess you’re not used to my crazy sense of humor.”
“Guess not.” He took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh as he stretched his arms and shoulders. “Why don’t you and Roxy stay and have supper with me and the boys? Inez always cooks extra.”
“Looking like this?” Megan eyed her dusty clothing. Her jeans and shirt were filthy. So were her bare arms. She hated to think what her hair looked like, not to mention the grime that had to be all over her face. “I don’t want to scare the kids, too.”
“They don’t scare as easily as I do,” James quipped. “These are tough little guys. I doubt they’ll even look at you funny.”
He gave her a quick once-over, then followed with a lopsided grin. “Well, maybe a little funny. I’ll get you a new camp shirt and shorts so you’ll have clean clothes. You probably should wash up before we eat, though. You must have rubbed your eyes when your hands were dirty. You look like a raccoon.”
“Since animals are my forte, I suppose that’s in character,” Megan replied. “I haven’t sneezed so much since I brought home a stray kitten and hid it in my bedroom when I was about Roxy’s age.”
“You’re allergic to cats? Hey, me, too.”
“And lots of other things, considering all the sneezing you did today. How can you work up here? I’d think all the tree pollen and weeds would finish you off.”
“I’m usually pretty careful,” James explained. “And a few headaches are a small price to pay for the privilege of helping these kids.”
Megan had been studying his expression, had picked up on the poignancy of his tone. “You can’t save them all, you know,” she said quietly. “All you can do—all any of us can do—is take one day at a time and give it our best. Then we have to let it go.”
“That’s a lot easier said than done.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve been praying for the wisdom to stop feeling accountable for everybody else’s failings for years. I’m still having trouble.”
“Praying?” James gave her a contentious look.
“Why not? I need all the help I can get.” Megan paused, wondering if she should go on. “Don’t you believe in God?”
“Sure. I just can’t see where He’d be interested in hearing from me. I learned to handle my own problems a long time ago. I don’t need any outside source telling me what to do. I make up my own mind.”
“My father feels the same way,” Megan said. “I never was able to convince him to trust the Lord.”
“So?”
“So, I failed.”
James reached over and sympathetically patted the back of her hand. “Hey, like you said, let it go. People do things that disappoint us all the time. It’s not your fault. You can’t be responsible for their choices.”
Yes, I can, she told herself. Logic had nothing to do with her feelings about her parents. Not a day went by that she didn’t wonder what she could have done—should have done—to somehow keep her fractured family together. Such thoughts might not be sensible, but that didn’t keep them from haunting her.
Chapter Three
While Megan took a shower in the girls’ dorm and got herself spruced up for supper, Roxy helped Inez in the kitchen and James supervised his resident campers’ evening chores. Tonight, he’d assigned them to tidy up the area in front of the dining hall.
Several of the boys weren’t thrilled to be outside at all, let alone doing yard work, but when James led by example they all pitched in. It was hard to keep any kid interested in a task for long, and he was glad to have genuine outdoor projects for them to do. Learning to work together and respect authority was crucial for their rehabilitation. So was receiving praise when it was due.
“Super job, Mark,” he called. “Now give the rake to Bobby Joe and let him finish up all the way to the big tree. Kyle, those dead branches go in the wheelbarrow. That’s right. Great.”
James let his thoughts drift to Megan as he worked, and he found himself picturing her in surprising detail. Her hair and eyes were dark, like his, but that was where the similarity ended. He already sported a summer tan. She had skin so fair, it would surely burn after only a few hours under the clear Ozark sky. And she was so small that any kid older than nine or ten was probably going to laugh at her if she made any attempt at discipline. The woman was a hard worker, true, but she didn’t look as if she could handle a good-sized dog, let alone a horse.
He gritted his teeth. It had been ages since he’d thought about how much he hated horses. The first time he’d seen one up close had been when his parents had sent him to military academy at the age of thirteen. His initial experience in horsemanship had been so traumatic it had left him with a broken arm and a deep-seated loathing of the stupid beasts.
Even before his arm had healed, he’d been assigned to help clean the stalls in the horse barn, which was apparently his instructor’s way of pushing him to face his childish fear. Instead, that impossible task had been the equivalent of aversion therapy. If he never touched another horse for the rest of his life it would be fine with him. Two weeks of having one in camp was going to feel like two years.
One of the boys squealed, pointing at the door to the women’s dorm. “Here she comes!”
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